Finding our worth in rankings

Another day, another link. Another article promising a new way to measure scientific impact, influence, visibility, performance. Another system, another metric, another list.

And there I was—doing what so many of us do before we even admit it to ourselves. Scrolling quickly, searching for my own name.

Then I found it. Top five in South Africa.

And yes, I smiled. Of course I did. I felt that small rush of validation, the quiet satisfaction of being seen, measured, acknowledged. For a moment, it felt good. Maybe even deserved.

And then, almost as quickly, I spiraled and sank again.

Who was above me? Why not higher? How was this calculated? Who was missing? What about the other list from last month? How long before this changes?

It is amazing how quickly pride can turn into comparison, and comparison into emptiness.

That made me think, how much of our lives is shaped by rankings?

Countries compare GDP growth, inflation, competitiveness, and happiness indexes. Universities compete in global tables. Athletes chase podiums, records, world rankings. Schools rank learners. Companies rank employees. Social media ranks popularity in likes, shares, followers. Even in the quiet corners of our minds, we rank ourselves constantly—better than, worse than, ahead of, behind.

And then I see it again, closer to home. Teenagers are comparing themselves in ways that are even more raw and immediate. Who is better at sports? Who is more popular? Who performs better academically? Who gets invited? Sometimes the rankings are spoken aloud, and sometimes they are silent yet deeply felt. A comment, a look, a number on a report card—suddenly, they become a measure of worth.

And I wonder what we are teaching them. Because they are not inventing this behaviour. They are absorbing it. Watching us, the adults, refresh pages, compare outputs, celebrate positions, and question gaps. They see how easily we attach meaning to numbers, how quickly we measure ourselves against others.

Somewhere along the way, measurement became identity.

Of course, rankings are not meaningless. They can motivate. They can inform. They can create standards and encourage excellence. But they are also selective mirrors. They reflect one angle, one methodology, one moment in time—and yet we often let them define our whole value.

That is where the danger lies.

Because worth is wider than ranking. Contribution is deeper than visibility. Impact is often slow, human, and impossible to capture neatly in numbers. A student encouraged. A colleague supported. A difficult idea pursued quietly for years. A family held together while still producing work. None of these fit neatly into a league table.

And yet, if I am honest, I still look. I still search for my name. I still feel the lift and the drop.

Maybe the goal is not to pretend we are above it all. Maybe the goal is awareness. To notice the smile, but also to notice the spiral. To appreciate recognition without handing it full custody of our self-worth.

Because if we live only by rankings, we will always be vulnerable to the next list.

Today, you are in the top five. Tomorrow you are forgotten.

But if we root ourselves in purpose, in craft, in relationships, in values, then rankings become what they were always meant to be: information, not identity or worth.

So yes, I may still click the link. I may still search for my name.

But I am trying to remember—and to show my children—that we are more than where we appear on someone else’s list.

PS. AI was used for formatting, language corrections, and images.