Few flavors of pedant are as irritating as the syntax scold, those humorless hall monitors who smirk as they tell total strangers what nonplussed actually means. So everyone confuses literal with figurative; literally, who cares? It gives me no pleasure to join their ranks. But I can no longer stay silent—because as a culture, we’ve totally lost the plot on what a nepo baby is.
The term has been inescapable since 2022, when 25-year-old Canadian @MeriemIsTired tweeted how shocked she was to learn that Euphoria star Maude Apatow is “a nepotism baby” because her mother is Leslie Mann, while her father is “a movie director lol.” To Gen Z readers, the most astonishing part of that message wasn’t that @MeriemIsTired had never heard of Judd Apatow—it was the reveal of a vast left-coast conspiracy. The self-made Sydney Sweeneys and Zendayas suddenly seemed to be dwarfed by the Maudes, famous people who got a leg up because (gasp!) their parents were also famous.
Forget that this truism is (almost) as old as time—did you know Isaac was actually the son of Abraham? Forget that it’s foundational to the film industry in particular, which has a long tradition of incubating familial talent: the Barrymores, the Hustons, the Fondas, the Kardashians. (Before “nepo baby,” we called them Hollywood royalty.) The neologism caught on because it was a snappy way to summarize an ancient form of injustice at a time when calling out injustice felt like an important thing to do.
The problem is that careless usage has gradually shifted the nep-Overton window, expanding the term until it’s lost both its meaning and its bite. Because, to paraphrase an old line about Champagne and sparkling wine, it’s only nepotism if you’re doing the same job your parents did. Otherwise it’s just called “being rich.”
Take, as the New York Post so often does, the case of Zohran Mamdani. The democratic socialist and recently elected mayor is the first to admit he grew up privileged, the son of Columbia professor Mahmood Mamdani and celebrated filmmaker Mira Nair. He is not, however, a nepo baby, at least not in his capacity as a politician. (Though he certainly was one when he worked as third assistant director on Nair’s 2016 film Queen of Katwe: “You know, nepotism and hard work goes a long way,” Mamdani joked in an interview with a South African radio station that year.)
In some dynasties, the lineage is clear—the Trumps and the Kennedys are a long line of nesting nepo babies. In others, the label simply isn’t always correct. George W. Bush is, unquestionably, a nepo baby. Jenna Bush Hager is not, because she didn’t get famous for starting a war on Iraq. Maya Hawke, who got her breakout film role from her “Uncle Quentin”? Obvious nepo baby. Lena Dunham? Doesn’t count unless you really think conceptual artists hold undue sway over HBO’s executive suite.
In fact, despite what critics in the 20-teens would have had you think, arguably none of the girls on Girls were true-blue nepo babies. Allison Williams didn’t go into newscasting. Zosia Mamet acts in plays but doesn’t write them. Jemima Kirke’s parents are a drummer and a boutique owner. Yes, she’s a childhood friend of Dunham’s, but if you get a job because of who you’re friends with rather than who your parents are, that isn’t nepotism either—it’s cronyism. Words have meaning! We live in a society!
As a slang term, “nepo baby” is played out; asking actual nepo babies about what it’s like to be a nepo baby has also become its own shopworn trope. But ultimately, the phrase deserves to be retired because, like woke and hipster before it, it’s a once-specific coinage that’s become a catchall epithet. There are plenty of legitimate reasons to hate wealthy people who have the audacity to keep achieving; there’s no need to invent new ones. Go ahead, eat the rich—but at least describe them accurately first.
