Large societies require a shared order, and the shared order is imagined. Not imaginary in the sense of “false,” but in the sense that it exists inside collective belief, not inside trees or rivers.
Hierarchies, castes, and roles are stabilized by stories people repeat until they feel like nature. A legal code, a lineage, a mandate: each turns power into something that appears legitimate rather than merely enforced.
The paradox is that imagined orders become real in their effects. People build pyramids, pay taxes, and accept suffering because a narrative tells them it is proper. Even rebels often argue within the same language of the system they oppose.
Once you see the mechanism, you notice it everywhere: money, borders, corporations, rights. None are physical objects, yet they coordinate millions of strangers. The stone blocks are heavy, but the ideas that moved them are heavier.