Hierarchies and Human Development: A Journey, Not a Judgment

This is a persistent topic in the Integral sphere, so I persist in trying to crack this nut.

Let’s be honest: most people flinch a little when they hear the word hierarchy. I do too—a little.

It makes sense. We’ve all had experiences with power hierarchies—bosses, institutions enforcing laws, government agencies, corporations denying claims—where decisions were made above us, sometimes unfairly, sometimes without explanation. Those structures can leave us feeling powerless. So, when someone starts talking about “stages” of human development, it can sound suspiciously like ranking or labeling people—the kind of activity that strips us of power and self-determination.

There are two kinds of hierarchies

The first kind, the one we usually bristle at, is the dominator or power hierarchy—the kind imposed to control or suppress the many or elevate certain people over others. These show up in rigid or inconsistent bureaucracies, authoritarian regimes, and modern workplaces that talk about “efficiency” but only succeed at dehumanizing employees, customers, or citizens. Power hierarchies are designed by people, and they can be abused by people.

A very different kind is natural or growth hierarchies—the kind that emerges organically in nature, culture, and human development. Think of how a plant grows: root, stem, leaves, flower. Or how children learn: crawling before walking, babbling before talking. Or how teams grow: forming, storming, norming, performing. These aren’t enforced stages—they unfold as conditions allow and natural capabilities emerge.

When we reject all hierarchies based on our painful experiences with the dominating kind, we risk throwing out valuable insights about how we learn and grow to handle increasing challenges.

Why the fear runs so deep

Still, I get the resistance. It’s not just intellectual—it’s emotional, and it can persist! Most of us have a memory of being on the wrong end of a hierarchy. Maybe we were the student dismissed by the teacher, the employee ignored by the manager, or the person excluded from the “inner circle.” That feeling—of being less-than, voiceless, outside the circle of respect—sticks with us. This exclusion can be based on our identity, like race or gender, or it can be based on our point of view or what we think.

So when someone introduces a developmental model and says there are “later stages,” it can sound like another way of being left out. But development theories allow for a more generative perspective: I can grow into a more capable version of myself.

What if powerlessness itself can spark growth?

Let’s pause here. Something unexpected can happen when we examine those painful moments of being silenced or overruled. They don’t just hurt—they also reveal something. They show us our hunger for respect, voice, and understanding. And sometimes, in the long arc of a life, they become the catalysts for growth.

Nelson Mandela comes to mind. Early on, he operated from a fiery, combative stance—what Spiral Dynamics might call “Red energy”—driven by urgency and rage against injustice. But he evolved during his 27 years in prison. He didn’t come out with more anger. He came out with vision, compassion, and strategy. He emerged with the capacity to negotiate the end of apartheid and lead a divided country toward reconciliation.

That’s not just moral strength. That’s multiple stages of developmental transformation building successively, including the tools of earlier stages and transcending the elements that no longer worked towards his goals.

Isn’t this just a fancy way of saying that some people are better than others?

I think the answer depends on how we frame development. If we use it to judge, we fall back into the power hierarchies we’re rejecting in this new way of thinking.

But if we use it to understand, it opens up space for empathy. I’ve been there—where I just did not get what a person was trying to tell me—but eventually, after a lot of thought, their point of view opened up new possibilities for me. This was not a factor of power or domination over me; it was a factor of my growth, enabling me to see a new, wider world view.

Here’s an analogy that helps me. Think of education. We don’t expect a kindergartener to do calculus, a 6th grader to build a house, or a college freshman to run a hospital. Education unfolds in stages. People take different paths—some stop after high school, others pursue more. That doesn’t make one person inherently better than another. It just means they’re equipped for different challenges.

Human development works similarly. We grow along many lines—cognitive, emotional, interpersonal, and spiritual. Some invest more in certain areas. Some grow fast, others slow. There’s no finish line—just the ongoing work of learning to meet life with greater depth and flexibility.

Once I learned about growth hierarchies, I realized that

• I was developing along cognitive, moral, emotional, interpersonal, and spiritual pathways.

• I was above average on some and not so much on others.

• And so was everyone else.

• This was an outlook that could free me from the judgmental thinking that previously came so naturally.

When I struggle to connect with someone—when we’re clearly seeing the world through very different lenses—it helps to wonder: What stage or worldview might they be speaking from?

What experiences have they had that I have not had that keep me from seeing what is so clear to them?

That curiosity slows down my reactions. Sometimes, it creates space for understanding instead of judgment.

Mandela didn’t abandon his fire—he refined it. He didn’t erase the past—he integrated it. That’s what real growth looks like. Not leaving behind who we were but growing into who we’re capable of becoming. That’s a kind of hierarchy worth embracing.

If you’re new to Glimpsing Integral and curious about Integral Theory, I’ve written several posts that break it down into bite-sized pieces. You can find them in a reader-friendly order under the Contents tab.