The 5 Levels of Nepotism

Some people are forging weapons from sticks and stones, and others were born holding Excalibur complaining it’s too heavy.

There are 5 levels of nepotism. Let’s walk through them.

Level 1: The Peasant (You, Unfortunately)

You’re starting from absolute zero. No context, no connections, no idea what you’re doing. You would crawl across broken glass for the opportunity to speak to the housekeeper of a UBS MD.

You didn’t grow up around finance. You didn’t even know what EBITDA was until a YouTube video told you it “basically doesn’t matter but also matters a lot".

Rumor has it one guy at your non-target signed with Evercore last week. You consider it a personal blessing just to breathe the same air as him.

Your dad thinks Goldman is a retail bank. Your mom thinks banking and private equity are the same thing and asks if you’ll “be working with loans.”

You send 200 cold emails to get 3 replies, and you treat your first coffee chat with a random first-year analyst like a Make-A-Wish experience.

Religion? No. WSO threads are your scripture.

And the best part? You actually believe this is meritocratic.

Level 2: The Social Climber (Friend-of-a-Friend Merchant)

You still don’t know anyone. But you do know someone who knows someone.

Your best friend’s cousin’s brother’s hamster’s wife’s gynecologist’s father’s sister just made MD at Jefferies, and somehow this is your foot in the door.

You casually say “yeah I’ve got a few connections” as if you’re not one ignored follow-up away from irrelevance.

Your entire rolodex is one analyst who regrets ever replying to you and one VP who told you to circle back, which you interpreted as the beginning of a long-term relationship instead of a polite rejection.

You’ve started asking people what their dad does within the first five minutes of meeting them. Not because you care, but because you’re hunting.

You’re still grinding just as hard and just as desperate, only slightly more delusional about your leverage.

Level 3: The Nepo-Adjacent (Corporate Spawn Point)

Your parents aren’t bankers, but they orbit money closely enough to feel the gravitational pull.

Tax. Accounting Insurance. Close enough to smell the deals, not close enough to be on them.

You grew up watching bankers push your parents around and decided that wouldn't be your fate.

One day your dad says he’s going to connect you with a friend, and everything changes overnight.

People reply faster. Conversations feel warmer. You’re no longer trying to get in, you’re being gently let in.

You will spend the rest of your life insisting you grinded just as hard as everyone else. Technically you did grind, you just didn’t grind from the bottom. You started halfway up and called it a climb.

Level 4: The Banker’s Kid (Born on Third Base, Thinks He Hit a Triple)

You didn’t find finance. Finance found you at the dinner table.

Your dad has Managing Director in his email signature and a personality that was slowly replaced by Outlook over the past twenty years.

You’ve been in offices since you were a kid. You know the language, the culture, the people. For you, networking is just texting someone your dad already had drinks with in 2009.

You say things like “I still had to interview” with a straight face.

You did interview. In the same way someone with a reservation “waits” for a table.

When you land an offer at a top bank you frame it as competitive as if the outcome was ever in doubt.

At first, nobody in the office pays attention to you.

Then they see your last name and suddenly everyone becomes incredibly interested in your development.

Nobody actually hired you. They just made the risk-adjusted decision not to offend your father.

Level 5: The Final Boss (Your Parents Are the Clients)

This isn’t nepotism. This is control.

Your family doesn’t work with banks. Banks work for your family.

You don’t network. People introduce themselves to you pre-emptively.

Bankers laugh before you finish the joke. They nod before you finish the sentence. They tell you your thoughts are interesting before you’ve fully formed them. If you crapped in their hands, they'd be grateful.

You mention at dinner that you might be interested in finance, and by the end of the week multiple firms are “excited to stay in touch” as if this was ever a two-sided process.

Your recruiting process is just other people deciding how to approach you.

You don’t choose a firm. You allow one.

Your biggest decision is whether you prefer the offer you didn’t apply for or the one you didn’t interview for.

You will go on to say you followed your passion, and everyone will agree, because no one wants to be the person who says otherwise.

The moment your family’s mandate disappears, everything changes instantly.

For the first time in your life, nobody is impressed.

For the first time in your life, nobody is careful.

For the first time in your life, it’s fair. And you have absolutely no idea how to play that game.