A Psychosocial Approach to the Hot Dog/Sandwich Debate

By Gracelyn Skilling ’26

In our current day and age, it seems like the only fact all Americans can agree on is that we can’t agree on anything. Yet, one century-old issue in particular has endured through every turn of current events, remaining one of the nation’s most polarizing issues. 

The issue is this: Is a hot dog a sandwich?

The deathless persistence of this question comes down to the fact that, really, there is no good answer.

On one side, you have the dictionary definition of hot dog: Merriam-Webster states a sandwich to be “two or more slices of bread or a split roll having a filling in between” (“sandwich”).

On the other hand, you have every last vestige of intelligible reality screaming that a meat cylinder atop Pac-Man-shaped bread cannot be synonymous with your PB&J. 

So instead, I would like to offer an alternative approach concerning this moral fork-in-the-road, which may appease the existence of those respectable Americans who practice faith in both Merriam-Webster and hot dog autonomy: perhaps the disquieting ambiguity doesn’t lie in the nature of hot dogs and sandwiches, but rather in the nature of their definitions.

It’s a common misconception that categories are derived from definitions: that is, to determine if something belongs in a category, you’d compare it to the category’s definition and see if it fits. But if it’s the case that we categorize things according to categorical definitions, where did the definitions of those categories come from? 

If you were asked to define “chair,” you’d probably say something along the lines of “it’s usually got legs and a back, and you sit in it.” What you just did was think up examples of the things you’ve observed to qualify as “chair”—desk chairs, dining chairs, spinny chairs—and then described their common characteristics. These observed characteristics are how you define your concept of chairs, and, accordingly, how you identify other chairs. 

Developmental psychologist Jean Piaget proposed that we interpret the world in this way: by sorting our experiences into “schemas,” mental groups of similar things (Myers 188). If asked, “Is this a chair?” your mind would not flip through its Webster’s Third New International Dictionary, Unabridged; you’d simply gander for the characteristics that you’ve observed on chairs, i.e., your chair schema. That is to say, the parameters of your mental category—your schema—for “chair” are procured from characteristics of things under that category (examples of chairs). 

To summarize, we don’t categorize things by sorting them under definitions; we perceive groups of like things and then attempt to delineate that group by describing its most prominent features, from which we get a category. This is how we got the definition of “sandwich”: two slices of bread with something in the middle, because that’s what most sandwiches are like.

However, this is just an attempt to describe the concept of “sandwich.” Sandwiches do not have two slices of bread because that’s the definition of the sandwich—rather, because that’s what most sandwiches have, that’s the definition. The definition is merely an attempt to nail down the essential nature of that concept, not an absolute totalitarian determinant of it. This is significant because it implies a different relationship between definitions and what they define: rather than the definition governing what it defines, as is usually assumed, the defined governs the definition. If this is the case, using the category’s contents is the most direct source for understanding its parameters; whereas using the category’s definition to determine its reach is one step removed, more so like using a synopsis instead of the thing itself.

Disregarding definitions for classification in this way is far from a new concept. For example, in the 1893 case Nix v. Hedden, the Supreme Court ruled that, despite botanically being a fruit, tomatoes were to be considered vegetables for the purpose of tariffs due to their common usage and preparation (Nix v. Hedden). This implies that an item’s classification may not always be reflective of its definition, and, of equal importance, it emphasizes the relevance of context. It’s reasonable, then, to say that a hot dog’s being “served in a long split roll” (“Hotdog”) may not be relevant to its classification in all scenarios. 

So, let’s not compare hot dogs to a description of sandwiches—let’s compare hot dogs to sandwiches.

Cultural usage

• As summarized by the National Hot Dog and Sausage Council, “A hot dog is an exclamation of joy, a food, a verb describing one ‘showing off’ and even an emoji. It is truly a category unto its own” (“National Hot Dog”). 
• The terms “hot dog” and “sandwich” are not interchangeable. As put by the NHDSC,  “Imagine being at the ballpark with the organ playing, the crowd cheering, and a vendor walking through the stands saying, ‘Sandwich, get your sandwich here!” (“Is a Hot Dog”). 
• Hot dogs are a party food, being eaten in others’ company 61% of the time, compared to 38% of sandwiches (“Why can’t we”). 
• The majority of Americans (57%) say a hot dog isn’t a sandwich, while about a third (33%) say it is (“New Polling”). 
• You can’t buy a hot dog at Jersey Mike’s. 
• “Hot dog buns” are sold as an independent product specific to hot dogs, separate from “sub rolls” or “buns.” 

Structure

• Hot dogs are vertically oriented (with the bread along the sides and the filling visible from the top) rather than horizontally, as is indicatively sandwichy. 
• The identity of a hot dog is independent of the bread—take it out of the bun, and it’s still a hot dog. Contrarily, take peanut butter and jelly out of the bread, and it’s not a PB&J anymore—just some lonely spreads. While bread is an essential characteristic of sandwiches, it’s not so in the case of hot dogs. 
• Cutting a sandwich in half is a measure of lunchal probity, whereas cutting a hot dog makes you a heretic. 

The list goes on. When we stop getting hung up on definitions and instead just look at what they’re describing, it becomes clear that hot dogs and sandwiches just aren’t the same thing. It’s high time that we move on from this debate and let the two foods have their own lanes. We Americans already have enough to argue about.

Works cited

“Hotdog.” Merriam-Webster.com Dictionary, Merriam-Webster, https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/hotdog. Accessed 6 May. 2025.

“Is A Hot Dog A Sandwich?” NHDSC, https://hot-dog.org/culture/hot-dog-sandwich. Accessed 13 May 2025. 

Myers, David. Myers’ Psychology for the AP Course 4e. Available from: BFW – Macmillan High School – Achieve Embedded, (4th Edition). Macmillan Higher Education, 2024.

“National Hot Dog and Sausage Council Announces Official Policy On ‘Hot Dog as Sandwich’ Controversy.” NHDSC, 6 Nov. 2015, https://www.hot-dog.org/press/national-hot-dog-and-sausage-council-announces-official-policy-hot-dog-sandwich-controversy. 

“New Polling Shows Most Americans Agree: A Hot Dog Is Not a Sandwich.” NHDSC, 1 Aug. 2016, https://www.hot-dog.org/press/new-polling-shows-most-americans-agree-hot-dog-not-sandwich. 

Nix v. Hedden, 149 U.S. 304 (1893).

“Sandwich.” Merriam-Webster.com Dictionary, Merriam-Webster, https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/sandwich. Accessed 13 May. 2025.“Sandwich History: 10 Words You Can Chew On.” Merriam-Webster, https://www.merriam-webster.com/wordplay/to-chew-on-10-kinds-of-sandwiches. Accessed 13 May 2025.