2025: The fabric of etiquette frays under a global avalanche of societal shifts. And yet. The mysterious and important status quo of domestic seating hierarchies stays carved in stone. Where do you sit in the scheme of things?
“All is right with the world, because you’re in the right seats.”
My Dad
Setting the scene
A microcosm under the microscope, the salty Manc universe of the Beeb’s noughties sitcom, The Royle Family, captures the homely world order of knowing you’re right where you are.
To the Royles, the outside world was another universe. And the portal to that universe wasn’t the front door, but the front room television. Bar their tiny kitchen, all the action that ever happens in the family's lives takes place in that small room.
Wedged onto the sofa, elbows on laps, they chatter and argue. Jim Royle – the dad and the don – reclines on his mustard throne, surrounded by tea, biscuits, an ornamental ashtray, and an armrest reserved exclusively for the zapper.
The scene gives echos of my mum’s mum. Closer to heaven in her eighth-floor Stokey council flat, her throne represented all the mythic symbolism of the self-appointed ruler of the living room. She reigned between the coffee table, the electric fire, and whatever ITV prime-time show she decreed to air with the volume turned up to 11.
My dad sat by the door and kept his coat on for every visit.
The right seats
At home, most families have what my parents call “the right seats.” Each takes a specific place in the room – sacred, bum-size territories that have been earned, fought for, and deferred to over decades of cohabitation.
In my parents’ words, here’s why they sit where they sit:
How to work it out
In my highly scientific study of domestic seating hierarchies, I’ve built theory of the phenomenon that I’ve reduced to a simple formula:
TV proximity [epicentre] x Armrest access [personal space] = Best seat in the house
Note that I’m not trying to change the fabric of the universe by writing it down. This is fundamental cosmic rule. Family lore.
All things being equal, both my parents think that the other has “the best seat in the house,” and they allow that seat to be taken by them. Kids and guests must also choose their places wisely. Any (unwitting) transgression is on record.
The modern family might gather in the kitchen or dining space with multiple screens. But for many, the telly-as-epicentre trope is still an intergenerational default. Each family member finds their own “right seats” based on arbitrary collective rules that no one cares to articulate, but they’ve silently agreed on anyway.
Out of home
In legacy corporate settings, seating hierarchies once had the power to affect career trajectories – proximity to the boss and a nice window view were the flex that replaced the TV. Fast-forward to the 2020s. Depending on your dramatic worldview, hybrid co-working spaces and hot desking are an opportunistic gift or a minefield.
After hours, social hierarchies can be reflected or disrupted with the tiniest tweak of a dinner seating plan. Take this excellent episode of Curb Your Enthusiasm. The host, Susie, realises she’s made a rookie table plan error and has to join forces with Larry to usurp a boring middle guest from his seat. She replaces the dullard with Vince Vaughn – a higher-status player, and business resumes.
Anyone who can read the room knows that the middle guest can make or break the flow of conversation. Susie, ever humble, confirms this herself from the head of the table, “Not everybody has the personality for the middle.”
Know your place
Back in the front room, our family seating hierarchy is the purest, most idiosyncratic of all the places we pull up a chair.
As occasional cramp would have it, I sit on the floor at my parents’ house. There’s no throne left. I didn’t opt out of the domestic world order. It’s just that “the best seats in the house” were taken long before I learned how to play the game.
I don’t complain about my spot, though. That’s another unspoken rule. Because if the rest of the family is sitting comfortably, you’ll likely find that “all is right with the world” anyway.