By Nell Geraets
When asked recently how he could afford a $1.2 million McLaren sports car, Brooklyn Peltz Beckham said it was thanks to his career as a chef. What he neglected to mention was his extremely famous parentage: former Spice Girl Victoria Beckham and star footballer David Beckham.
Brooklyn is what the internet today calls a “nepotism baby”. His 14.4 million Instagram followers and exorbitant wealth are both linked to the family he was born into, affording him certain privileges unattainable for non-famous children.
“Nepo babies” Brooklyn Beckham, Hailey Bieber and Maude Apatow.Credit: Instagram
Brooklyn is not the first, and he certainly won’t be the last nepo baby. The celebrity world – particularly Hollywood – has been rife with nepotism since the 1800s, when actor Maurice Barrymore married actress Georgiana Drew and proceeded to create a long line of actors, including their great-granddaughter Drew Barrymore (Charlie’s Angels).
From Barrymore to Euphoria’s Maude Apatow (daughter of Knocked Up director Judd Apatow and actress Leslie Mann), rapper Jaden Smith (son of actors Will and Jada Pinkett Smith) and model Hailey Bieber (daughter of actor Stephen Baldwin and designer Kennya), nepo babies extend across generations and industries, making up many of both our past and current A-list celebrities.
Recently, nepo babies have become a common discussion point on TikTok, with over 122 million views across the subject’s content. Whether out of adoration, envy or frustration, users are interrogating celebrity favouritism more intensely than ever.
So, why has TikTok suddenly become a breeding ground for criticism against famous offspring?
“We are within a period of calling out injustices and inequalities, where nepo babies are the most recent public issue to fall into this category,” says Dr Jonathon Hutchinson, media lecturer at The University of Sydney.
From Black Lives Matter to climate change, TikTok has become Gen Z’s platform for socio-political discourse, says Hutchinson, including the generational inequality propelled by nepotism.
When Brooklyn joined NBC’s Today show to present a bacon and sausage sandwich recipe, the self-proclaimed photographer and chef (with few proper credentials beyond being a Beckham) was criticised by some for concealing his true entry into wealth.
Gen Z will not only engage with these topics, but “tease out nuances of the social debate”, says Hutchinson. Nepotism has existed since time immemorial, but only now has a generation with both access to social media and a firm desire for transparency, equality and self-awareness emerged, ready to remind those like Brooklyn to “check his privilege”.
Brooklyn’s privilege is arguably no different from, say, that of Sofia Coppola (daughter of The Godfather director Francis Ford Coppola), but his perception of it is what sent TikTok through a loop.
When TikTok creator Daniel Mac approached Brooklyn to ask about the aforementioned McLaren and for advice he could give to fellow aspiring chefs, Brooklyn responded, “Just follow your passion, whatever makes you happy.” No mention of his mother’s estimated net worth of $450 million – just a healthy dose of pulling up the bootstraps.
It isn’t his wealth and access people scoff at – socio-economic inequality has existed far longer than Hollywood, after all. It’s when privilege morphs into entitlement, when a famous child is committed to the delusion that everything they have was independently earned and deserved.
When supermodel Kendall Jenner said during the Keeping Up with the Kardashians reunion special that she believed her famous name made it harder for her to become a successful model, the ensuing backlash was not based on her lack of runway talent. It was her inability to acknowledge the hard yards she skipped as a result of who her mother, Kris Jenner, knew.
When nepo babies fail to express a certain level of self-awareness, instead touting a misguided message of meritocracy, those not of famous blood can feel patronised and deceived. The general TikTok user isn’t given the head-start afforded to those with a recognisable surname, they aren’t born with one foot already in the door.
Michelle Andrews, co-host of the Shameless podcast, says although not all nepo babies seem entitled, citing Hailey Bieber as an example, those who attempt to conceal their wealth or are blind to its power frustrate those without similar access.
“It’s far more endearing to just point to your money and be truthful with where that comes from,” Andrews says in one of her podcast episodes. “On TikTok, so many rich people are trying to pass off their generational wealth as just something that they worked really hard for. It’s like, we’re not idiots, we know that you got that through inheriting it.”
The structure of TikTok could be another reason why the nepo baby train has suddenly taken off. Beginning on Twitter at the start of this year, Hutchinson says the discussion soon shifted to TikTok – a platform more conducive to ongoing, evolving conversations around equality.
“TikTok is one of the more intuitive platforms in terms of content creation, with ready-made audiences,” he says. “It’s functionality and discoverability makes TikTok the go-to place for conversations such as these.”
With the tenacity of Gen Z’s activism and the virality of TikTok content, little goes unnoticed online anymore, including who your parents are and where your fame comes from. What other age-old pattern could TikTok expose next?
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