What are the standards by which we may rank teeth? As any practical taxonomy can be constructed, we begin with lived experience and encounter our first problem. Singling out a tooth in one’s mouth proves difficult, for if not for one, the whole surely would lack in aesthetics and function. So, we can expedite this relational process by turning outwards.
While preference may suffice in this endeavor, we encounter another interiority trap, one of objectivity. For instance, sharp canines or off-white teeth might well be ideal, and if I had to anoint a single tooth to sit in that coveted top position, it would be that of Emily Brontë’s canine, right—from her perspective, which is assumed to lie buried in Haworth, England among the rest of her remains (this is of course an educated assumption, as I have never, nor will I ever, see the tooth, but its legitimacy is entirely derived from its symbolic function; I’m sure some may invoke God’s canine here, but we’ll let that lie). The difficulty of extrapolation is apparent; nevertheless, using my own preferences does offer clues as to how one might conduct a survey of teeth for ranking purposes. E.g. ranking one’s teeth vs. another’s. All else being equal, one’s teeth may be preferential based on feel rather than aesthetic appeal, as the tongue and lips have more regular contact with one’s teeth than one’s eye. Yet, we can’t dismiss the potential for ranking another’s teeth based on feel (however one acquires that information) as well, despite the distinct lack of sustained direct tactile contact that occurs with one’s teeth.
This points toward a ranking-factor compendium (see FIG. 1), and we may as well begin where people already behave as if teeth are rankable: sentimentality. Many parents retain a small archive of their children’s baby teeth–an impulse that, once admitted, is hard to call irrational. In this instance, ranking logic would likely lean to the first of firsts but no hard rule kept any loving parent from hoarding even the third and last child’s every lost tooth with a zeal that borders on devotional.
We can apply the proposed ranking factors to almost any tooth valuation, including those involving serial killers (SKs), but not without qualification. Ranking teeth with SK-level obsessive compulsion belongs in its own category, distinct from the usual romantic or fetishizing lens. For instance, SKs may rank based on utility for things such as tooth necklaces or tooth tools. Of course, overlap may occur with the SK and typical romanticist, and it’s almost certain that aesthetics play a role for both SKs and non-SKs. However, no SKs with this predilection were available for comment.
On a deliberately rough model of global dentition–rough enough to be irresponsible, but precise enough to bother me–the total number of teeth on Earth may have already passed its historical maximum and entered gradual decline. Whether or not the model holds, it accomplishes what it needs to: it forces the domain outward. When the available categories include everything from snail teeth to those of the Megalodon, it becomes easy to see why a rare, fossilized Tyrannosaurus rex tooth commands upwards of $50k, helped along, no doubt, by Hollywood.
The only price tag rivaling those of the T. rex seems to be veneers. Surprisingly, or maybe not, these artificial solutions are inversely proportional in price to that of the lab-created diamond and its “organic” counterpart. In other words, authenticity as a proxy for price is demonstrably fluid (See FIG. 2).
Hypothetical teeth certainly shake up any ranking scale. There are teeth from a vampire, from The Thing, from the movie Teeth, or even future teeth (not to be confused with teeth futures that particularly obsessed individuals use to guarantee pricing—though those contracts could be ranked as well), none of which are real but all of which still have a seat at the table. We can also zoom in and rank the parts of a single tooth—the crown, root, cervical line, apex, or furcation—or even, in theory, its atoms, beyond which we’re left only with the qualia through which the tooth is given to us. For examples of practical ranking models, see the rubrics included in figures 3A and 3B. A note before the ranking exercises: it is with great displeasure that I acknowledge the inherent flux of any ranking system. The rankings below are not set in stone, and neither is the right canine of Emily Brontë. Next week, or next hour, it may be her left that supplants her right as my favorite, or—forgive me for even suggesting it—none of her teeth at all. Though some rankings are more durable than others, the inventories can always grow, shrink, or even disappear entirely (see: Neanderthal fishing spots).
Volume 16.2, Summer 26
Kyle Garrison
Kyle Garrison lives in Ohio. His work appears in The Raven Review. He writes at More Weight. https://moreweight.kylegarrisonwriter.com