The rise of the nepo baby generation

What celebrity culture reveals about power systems and inequality.

While the ‘nepo baby’ discourse tends to focus on celebrities, Lia Gordon argues that it is everyday nepotism that is far more insidious.

Culture Bite is a free weekly column that features Cheek-coded analysis and opinions at the intersection of pop culture and politics. To support more content like this, please consider becoming a paid subscriber!

---

“Nepo babies” aren’t just a pop culture obsession; they’re a visible symbol of a deeper shift toward inherited advantage in an increasingly unequal economy, where access often outweighs merit.

The discourse around nepo babies has been circulating for years. It was brought to the forefront in the New York Magazine’s widely debated article in 2022, and seems unlikely to die down any time soon - and for good reason.

What originally started as short, often tongue-in-cheek TikTok videos pointing out celebrity family trees and connections quickly turned into a broader critique of privilege and the role nepotism plays in one’s success. Users highlighted that the industry wasn’t just competitive, but inherited. And as the discourse intensified, figures like Lily-Rose Depp, Hailey Bieber and Brooklyn Beckham became central to the debate.

Their careers began to look less like individual success stories and more like extensions of existing networks. What once felt niche or insider knowledge was suddenly reframed as something structural, visible, repeatable, and difficult to ignore. What appeared to be coincidence or individual trajectory instead began to resemble patterns - patterns of access, of proximity, and of inherited positioning.

The fixation on “nepo babies” is less about the individual, and more about the structures they benefit from. They expose a system where access is often inherited, where proximity to power can quietly shape outcomes, and where the idea of meritocracy begins to feel increasingly fragile.

Focusing solely on celebrities and influencers misses the broader reality. Nepotism is often far less visible, operating through everyday networks: internships secured through family friends, graduate roles fast-tracked via referrals, and opportunities shaped by informal connections framed as “merit” or “fit.” The “everyday nepo baby” may not have a famous surname, but they often benefit from proximity to opportunity.

It can look like a student landing an internship via a parent’s colleague, a graduate told to “reach out” to an industry contact, or a role quietly filled through internal recommendation before public competition. While these practices are common, they’re often reframed as initiative or networking - making them difficult to identify, and even harder to challenge.

The everyday nepo baby doesn’t bypass the system but moves through it more smoothly. They still apply and interview, but often with informal advantages with insider knowledge, direct access to decision-makers, or endorsements that elevate an application above others.

This advantage is rarely seen as illegitimate by those who benefit from it. If the opportunity exists, why not use it? In this sense, the line between networking and nepotism blurs, becoming less about clear rules and more about who you can access.

The conditions our generation is entering are not neutral; it’s tightening by the second. In Australia, graduate opportunities have declined significantly over the years, with job postings falling by around 24% in 2025 and a further drop in 2025. At the same time, the competition is intensifying, while overall unemployment remains low, graduate unemployment sits closer to 10%, marking a more crowded and uneven entry-level market.

These pressures don’t just shape outcomes; they shape behaviour, reinforcing the importance of access in ways that feel increasingly unavoidable.

The ABC reported that the Australian government board appointments look like ‘patronage and nepotism’ after the No Favourites Report integrity review that scrutinised the ‘jobs for mates’ trend in Commonwealth appointments. The report concluded that ‘friends of the government’ were frequently appointed as rewards for loyalty or to ensure political alignment.

In a survey by Resume.io published in late 2025, 1,000 US workers revealed the extent of workplace nepotism, with more than half the workers reporting the role it plays in securing employment.

• 50% of workers said they lost a job opportunity to a ‘nepo baby’

• 72% believe ‘who you know’ is crucial in hiring

• Over 40% admitted they’ve used family connections themselves

Those entering the workforce today must grapple with a system where access is widely recognised and actively used - in an increasingly tight job market, the adage of ‘who you know not what you know’ rings especially true. As opportunities shrink, this advantage increasingly determines who is even considered. Nepotism feels more visible now, not because it is new, but because opportunity is scarcer and the stakes are higher.

This economic pressure feeds directly into a broader cultural shift - the growing erosion of belief in meritocracy. For decades, success has been framed as something earned: the outcome of hard work, talent, and persistence. It’s a narrative that underpins education systems, career advice, and the broader promise that effort will be rewarded. But the ‘nepo baby’ discourse disrupts this idea. The frustration isn’t simply that some people have advantages; it’s that those advantages often operate alongside, and sometimes instead of merit.

What emerges is a stark contrast between expectation and reality. The dated narrative of ‘work hard, and you’ll succeed’ relies on the assumption of a level playing field. The current reality suggests something more uneven: that networks, capital, and social positioning frequently shape outcomes before merit is even evaluated, and sometimes before opportunity is even accessible.

The “nepo baby” figure reflects not just celebrity critique but growing generational disillusionment with systems meant to reward merit. The issue is less the existence of advantage than its visibility and persistence. What once looked like individual success now increasingly appears as structural positioning—who is known, recommended, and already inside the room before others can enter.

The “nepo baby” discourse, then, is less an accusation than an exposure. It names something that was previously softened by language like networking, opportunity, or fit.

And in doing so, it forces an uncomfortable question: if access is increasingly inherited, what exactly are we asking people to compete on? Is it qualifications? What school did you go to? Or is it who you know?

---

About the Author

Lia Gordon

Lia is a recent graduate of the Australian National University, where she completed a double degree in International Security Studies (Peace and Conflict) and Arts (Criminology and Anthropology) on scholarships. She previously wrote for the ANU Observer and is passionate about journalism and storytelling. As an Indigenous Australian, Portuguese and Indian woman, she is passionate about bringing attention to issues surrounding gender equality, culture, and inequalities, and ensuring these conversations translate into meaningful change. She is particularly interested in pursuing journalism that sits at the intersection of research, politics, and social justice. She also writes independently on Substack.