I’ve always said it’s not about what you know, it’s who you know. It’s a phrase people repeat with a knowing shrug, usually right before admitting that the world doesn’t work quite as fairly as we’d like to believe. And yet, nowhere does that sentiment provoke more fury, moral panic and selective outrage than in the ongoing nepo baby debate — a conversation that feels increasingly loud, increasingly circular, and increasingly determined to miss its own point.
The latest flashpoint came when Kate Winslet publicly defended her son’s work as an actor and screenwriter. Winslet’s argument was neither radical nor evasive. She simply stated that growing up around an industry does not negate the effort required to work within it, nor does it guarantee success. Yes, her children understand the world of film — they’ve absorbed its rhythms, language and expectations by proximity alone — but that doesn’t magically turn them into capable creatives. Access may open a door, but it doesn’t write a script, sharpen dialogue, or sustain a career.
The reaction, however, suggested something deeper than disagreement. It was outrage tinged with moral accusation, as though acknowledging advantage without apologising for it were somehow offensive. The subtext was clear: privilege must be disowned to be acceptable, even when it’s obvious, even when denying it borders on absurd.
Among those who pushed back was Scarlett Curtis, daughter of Richard Curtis and Emma Freud, who argued that the comparison doesn’t hold. Children of doctors, she said, still have to pass exams. Children of lawyers still have to qualify. Entertainment, by contrast, allows famous offspring to bypass formal barriers entirely. It’s a compelling argument — but also a comforting one. It relies on the idea that other industries operate on pure merit, insulated from soft power, inherited confidence, and the quiet advantage of familiarity. In reality, they don’t. They’re simply less visible about it.
What often gets lost in this debate is a far more honest observation, articulated with refreshing clarity by Kate Hudson during a conversation on The Graham Norton Show with Ben Stiller. Hudson didn’t deny privilege; she explained it. When you grow up inside an industry, you don’t just inherit contacts — you inherit fluency. You know how meetings work, how rejection works, how momentum is built. You learn how to enter rooms because you’ve been watching how they operate your entire life.
This isn’t cheating. It’s environmental education. And it exists everywhere.
