Height matters
I once had a colleague, a young woman who stood above me and most of the other men at work. By contrast, some girls in the same building resemble sixth graders playing hooky—parang pinabili lang ng suka (like someone on a store errand to buy vinegar)—who’d easily be carded in an English pub for looking underage. This is not uncommon in Manila, where many Filipinas stand at about 1.5 meters (4’11”).
While some guys may find tall girls emasculating, I’m happy to be taller than the average Pinoy, though certainly not basketball player or ramp model material. Still, I’m ambivalent whenever requested to reach for grocery items on the top shelf, clear the ceiling of dust and cobwebs, change the light bulb, or hold a shared umbrella.
I sometimes wonder how it would feel to be taller, or shorter, for that matter. I occupy a comfortable middle ground, so to speak: a Goldilocks-height crow’s nest from which to observe, with both amusement and curiosity, just how much height matters in this world.
It begins with that universal urge to climb. I have nephews who have scaled Mount Kilimanjaro and Everest, and have seen friends posting triumphant selfies from the misty summits of Mount Pulag and Mount Apo. Having barely made it out of the rolling hills of Galicia when I did the Camino de Santiago pilgrimage last year, I feel no such compulsion.
Curiously, this collective desire to rise above the rest is not limited to mountains. For over 3,800 years, the Great Pyramid of Giza stood as the tallest man-made structure in the world. At its full height of 146.5 meters, it wasn’t just a narcissistic homage to the pharaoh, but an engineering marvel that still inspires alien conspiracy theories to this day. The 12th century,160-meter Lincoln Cathedral in England signaled the end of that polytheist reign and the beginning of an enduring contest among men to reach the heavens and feel like a god.
What would the builders of old say if they saw Dubai’s BurjKhalifa now, in all its dizzying 828-meter glory? It might not hold the record long, but it could still be an architectural one-upmanship; in other words, it’s just a grand pissing contest for men with an abundance of money and ambition.
So why do men of power build higher and higher? For competition? Is it hubris? A subconscious yearning to overcome our own physical limitations? Perhaps all of the above. For some, it’s enough to metaphorically rise through the ranks, while for others, there must be a literal view from the top — preferably with an observation deck for tourists.
Height has long served as a barometer of success. Studies show that taller individuals, especially men, are often perceived to be more competent, and therefore statistically more likely to be successful in their field. Even in choosing leaders, voters subconsciously equate height with strength and moral authority. And when the leader is shorter than expected, it’s rarely mentioned without commentary or, unfairly, caricature.
In entertainment, the story is more nuanced. Hollywood has long relied on the illusion of height. Although Tom Cruise may have had to swallow his pride every time he and Nicole were on the red carpet, he still gets to sprint across explosions in slow motion to fulfill every Mission: Impossible. Elijah Wood and Daniel Radcliffe are vertically challenged, yet their careers have gone past Middle Earth and Hogwarts. Or look at multi-awarded Dustin Hoffman and Al Pacino. Talent, thankfully, is not measured in centimeters.
Across the Pacific, tall male leads are prized. Whenever my wife watches a Korean or Chinese drama, she’ll comment on the male lead’s height—in admiration or dismay—followed by a sigh of relief that I’m not short. Apparently, apart from angular jawlines, perfect hair, flawless skin, and brooding stares, long legs and slender bodies are integral to the appeal of the shows among female fans.
And yet, even here, height doesn’t always make the man. Lee Byung-hun and Song Joong-ki, both shorter than many of their contemporaries, are living proof that acting chops and presence can be just as compelling as stature. Among the ladies, Park Bo Young, Song Hye-kyo, Son Ye Jin, and IU may stand shorter than the average soap opera stars but they soar in terms of mass appeal.
Of course, nowhere is height more fraught than in the world of dating. After asking a few women from different generations, I got the same answer: it’s a hard pass on short guys. While not a strict rule, it’s more of a whispered preference in a world where couples pics are disguised and not being seen together in public is the norm, like individuals in an illicit affair. The secret shame, I suppose, adds excitement to the game. On the other hand, for guys who manage to win the affection of a taller girl, it must feel like conquering El Capitan itself.
Still, many men are uncomfortable chasing after anyone they literally have to look up to. Few can measure up to Tom Holland when he’s with Zendaya.
In the realm of fiction, we remember Peter Dinklage’s Tyrion Lannister as one of the most complex characters in Game of Thrones. Warwick Davis has played everything from Ewoks to professors, while the late Hervé Villechaize made his short line—“De plane! De plane!”—more iconic than Fantasy Island itself.
As for the towering athletes who dominate basketball courts, I grew up watching the likes of Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, Magic Johnson, Larry Bird, Shaquille O’Neal, and Michael Jordan. Today, players like Nikola Jokić or Giannis Antetokounmpo inspire many Filipinos with big dreams. Sure, we have many skilled cagers, but maybe we should also focus on soccer, archery, fencing, or shooting sports, apart from medal mills like gymnastics, weightlifting, and boxing. After all, sports is about believing we can reach higher than anyone expects us to—not always literally.
Which brings me back to the core of it all: this constant desire to go up, to climb, to be tall. It’s primal, persistent, and profoundly human. But let’s not also discount the short and sweet, the hidden gems, those who slay giants instead of standing on their shoulders.
My takeaway from this: while height may unlock doors, it’s character, kindness, talent, and resilience that keep them open.
As the Imp once revealed to a young and unwitting Jon Snow in GOT’s pilot episode, “Never forget what you are. The rest of the world will not. Wear it like armor, and it can never be used to hurt you.”
So yes, height matters. But how you carry it matters more.
