The Hierarchy of Calls: How Land Surveyors Prioritize Monuments, Adjoiners, Courses, Distances, and Area to Establish a Property Boundary

A deed calls for 200 feet of frontage, but an iron pipe undisturbed since 1948 sits at 187 feet. The buyer demands the full 200 feet they paid for, while the neighbor insists the pipe marks the true boundary. This is where abstract property rights collide with physical reality, forcing courts and surveyors to decide whether a mathematical measurement on paper overrides a rusted piece of metal in the ground.[5]

To resolve these inevitable conflicts, the real estate and surveying industries rely on a legal framework known as the "hierarchy of calls." Established in federal surveying standards as early as 1805, this system ranks the elements of a property description to determine which piece of evidence controls when a contradiction arises.[3]

The hierarchy is not merely a set of suggestions; it is a rigid order of precedence that dictates how land is divided, bought, and sold across the United States. At the top of the list are natural monuments, followed by artificial monuments, adjoiners, courses (directions), distances, and finally, area or quantity.[1]

Natural monuments hold the highest authority because they are permanent, visible, and generally indisputable. A river, a ridgeline, or a massive boulder cannot be easily moved or forged. If a deed states a boundary runs "to the center of the oak tree," the tree dictates the line, even if the distance to reach it is entirely wrong.[1]

Just below natural features sit artificial monuments. These are human-made markers placed specifically to denote a boundary, such as concrete posts, iron rods, or rebar. In the landmark 1941 Illinois Supreme Court case Monroe v. Shrake, and subsequently reaffirmed in jurisdictions nationwide, courts have firmly ruled that physical evidence of a boundary monument prevails over the measurements listed in a deed.[4]

This principle often frustrates modern buyers who trust the precision of contemporary GPS technology. A surveyor might find that a deed calls for "North 150.00 feet to a rebar," but the actual field measurement to that rebar is 150.10 feet. Under the hierarchy of calls, the surveyor must hold the rebar as the true corner, yielding the bearing and distance to the physical monument.[5]

When monuments are missing or destroyed, the hierarchy moves down to "adjoiners," or the record boundaries of neighboring properties. A call to an adjoiner—such as "bounded on the North by the Smith tract"—takes precedence over the specific courses and distances that follow, ensuring that no unowned strips or overlapping claims are created between neighbors.[1]

Only when monuments and adjoiners fail do surveyors rely on courses (the compass bearing or direction) and distances (the length of the line). While these are the most common elements in a modern metes and bounds description, they are considered highly susceptible to human error, transcription mistakes, or the limitations of historical surveying equipment like the 33-foot two-pole chain.[3]

At the very bottom of the hierarchy sits area, or quantity. Although buyers often fixate on the acreage they are purchasing, courts and surveyors view area as a derivative calculation rather than a controlling boundary element. A standard Public Land Survey System township is 36 square miles, divided into sections of nominally 640 acres, but the actual physical lines on the ground dictate the true size, regardless of what the plat claims.[2]

The overarching philosophy behind this ranking is the doctrine of original intent. As the Bureau of Land Management's Manual of Surveying Instructions dictates, "The boundary lines, actually run and marked in the surveys returned by the surveyor-general, shall be established as the proper boundary lines." What you find in the ground often matters more than what is written on paper.[3]

However, this rigid hierarchy is not without its exceptions. State courts frequently modify the priority of calls if strictly following them would clearly violate the original intent of the parties involved. If a monument was moved, disturbed, or incorrectly set by a subsequent surveyor, it loses its controlling authority and the surveyor must rely on the next best available evidence.

The hierarchy of calls serves as the vital translation layer between the abstract legal descriptions stored in county courthouses and the physical dirt that homeowners actually occupy. Understanding this framework allows buyers, sellers, and agents to navigate boundary disputes not by arguing over who has the better GPS, but by reading the historical story the land itself tells.[5]