Powerful families protect their interests in their personal lives as well. Members of the upper class—whether they’re the political, business, or intellectual elite—increasingly live in their own segregated communities, send their children to the same exclusive schools, marry individuals of their own class, and act in other ways to pass on their wealth, power, and privileges. I can personally attest that nepotism has been creeping into American academia, increasingly following patterns that are similar to those of Italian baronism. I moved to the United States in 1992, and of the first two academic jobs I interviewed for, one was offered to the daughter of a powerful professor in the same institution, while the other was offered to an internal candidate, a protégé of the department chair. At my own institution, the University of Chicago, many of the students supervised by well-established professors happen to also be the sons and daughters of other well-established professors. In fact, as I was writing this chapter, I received the following email from a colleague:
Dario,
We met briefly last week. I am Vice-Chair of the Department and I was very impressed with the work you are doing.
The reason I am writing you is to ask if you have an interest in an intern for this summer. My son is——at the University of——and we have been talking about your work. Would you be willing to look at his CV and a possible internship for the summer? I would appreciate anything you can do to help him get this experience.
Sounds like an Italian raccomandazione, doesn’t it? Maybe this is my chance to get a lamb rack or some Italian sausages.
As I mentioned earlier, biologists explain the relative strength or weakness of nepotism in a species or a society on the basis of availability of resources and the intensity of competition. With America’s recent history of resource depletion and economic crises, coupled with healthy population growth, social competition has intensified. America may still be the land of equal opportunities, but some are more equal than others. At the present time, a great deal of wealth and political power is concentrated in the hands of baby boomers: people born between 1945 and 1960. And as the baby boomers approach retirement age, their children are entering the workforce en masse. Sounds like the perfect setup for nepotism, doesn’t it? No wonder the aging baby boomers are using all the means at their disposal to transfer their wealth and power to their children.
Confronted with the reality that American society is becoming less meritocratic and more nepotistic, Bellow launches himself into a patriotic defense of American nepotism. He explains to us that contemporary American nepotism is a different beast, of a gentle and noble kind, and nothing like the nepotism practiced by rhesus macaques, dictators around the world, or Europeans. Therefore, he reassures us, any concerns we might have about the resurgence of nepotism in America are unfounded. He also tells us that while bad nepotism is essentially harmless, good nepotism plays a positive role in promoting a capitalistic economy and conservative moral and family values.
The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly
Although nepotism is traditionally viewed as a top-down phenomenon—for example, parents pulling strings to help their children—the new American nepotism also has a significant bottom-up component. It is often the result of children choosing to follow in their parents’ footsteps and thus inheriting jobs, wealth, and political power, rather than of parents bending rules to get jobs for them. The opportunism of children who exploit the family name and their parents’ wealth and influence is not limited to the upper class but is practiced by anyone who has connections. There is nothing new, however, about this bottom-up aspect of nepotism. In fact, the top-down and bottom-up components of nepotism have always gone hand in hand. When children become aware that they live in a nepotistic world, learn what nepotism can do for them, and realize that their parents have money, power, and influence, they actively try to take advantage of every opportunity for gain that is available to them. The beneficiaries of nepotism are never passive bystanders. The same is true in monkey societies. Young rhesus macaques born to high-ranking mothers actively solicit their mothers’ interventions by continuously picking fights with others and screaming for help.
Bellow acknowledges that the resurgence of interest among baby boomers in creating dynastic genealogies by transferring business, wealth, and power to their children has also been accompanied by a reversion to older expressions of nepotism. He gives this example. Richard Williams one day announced to his wife that he was going to turn their daughters—named Venus and Serena—into tennis champions. So he taught the girls tennis as soon as they could hold a racket in their hand, and he continued to give them lessons until they won their first U.S. Open. Says Bellow: “As a father, Williams represents what can only be called a throwback to Ancient Nepotism. His example is a testament to the nepotistic truth that where children are concerned, you get out what you put in.” Well, if this is a good example of a resurgent Ancient Nepotism, we’ve got nothing to worry about.
Teaching your children how to play tennis is not nepotism. And more generally, there is nothing wrong with parents who transfer their skills, business, or money to their children. Nepotism occurs when individuals, in the process of helping their relatives or protégés, break the rules. And the more parents try to influence their children’s lives, the greater the chance they will break the rules. Aging baby boomers are becoming involved in the lives of their children to a much greater extent than their parents ever did with them. And yes, this phenomenon has been accompanied by a resurgence of nepotism, but there is nothing gentle or kind—or new for that matter—about it. It’s the same old nasty beast. To be fair, nepotism is increasingly practiced not only by members of the upper class but by members of the lower class as well. Nepotism, however, is much more dangerous to society when rich and powerful people do it. The lower classes simply don’t have the power to bend the rules, and their nepotistic activities are largely inconsequential for the society.
It is possible to define nepotism very narrowly to mean not just hiring a relative, but hiring one who is grossly incompetent over more qualified candidates. Here, Bellow introduces the crucial distinction between bad and good nepotism. Bad nepotism, such as hiring an incompetent relative, typically backfires, but it’s a relatively minor offense because it doesn’t hurt people other than those directly involved in it. By contrast, good nepotism, which involves helping a competent relative, arguably benefits everyone.
So Bellow’s conclusion is that “history shows that nepotism in itself is neither good nor bad: how it is practiced is what matters.” We shouldn’t eliminate nepotism or punish it, but rather apply it constructively and recognize that it’s an art. Moreover, we must observe the unwritten rules that have made it a constructive and positive force in our society. Those who observe these hidden rules are rewarded and praised; those who don’t are punished. And—drum roll, please—these are the golden rules:
First, don’t embarrass the patron. Since the protégé’s actions and conduct reflect on the patron, accept the nepotistic help but don’t make the patron look bad. Second, don’t embarrass yourself. If you are the beneficiary of nepotistic help at someone else’s expense, you must work hard to counteract the resentment of those who are fregati. If possible, you should give them a consolation prize. Third, pass it on. If you are the recipient of nepotistic help from your parents, express your gratitude to them in the form of nepotism toward your own children. It is okay to receive generous nepotistic help if you become, in turn, generous toward others (as long as you keep it within the family, of course).
Mafia Family Values
Despite providing reassurance that this is not the case, Bellow reduces the subject of nepotism to an argument about family values. He tells us that we have a moral obligation to be nepotistic: if we fail to put our families first, we may destroy the very fabric of human society. We should therefore strengthen nuclear families, encourage people to help their relatives, and stimulate the creation of extended kinship networks through patronage
of friends and associates. Hiring a nephew may be objectively discriminatory, but since people are going to do it anyway, we may as well make sure that we hire the best and most meritorious of our nephews, concludes Bellow.
“If nepotism is just about helping relatives,” Bellow reasons, “then clearly there is nothing wrong with it and even the nepotistic values the mafia embodies may have merit and legitimacy.” He cites an episode of the TV series The Sopranos in which Tony Soprano’s wife Carmela tries to get their daughter admitted to Brown University by pulling strings. She says: “It’s all connections now. It’s who you know. If the rules don’t apply to everyone, why follow the rules?” So, if we share Carmela Soprano’s and Adam Bellow’s views, it can fairly be concluded that, in the end, we are all mafiosi.
Chapter 4
Climbing the Ladder
Going It Alone
Nepotistic raccomandazioni from our biological or adoptive parents—such as baroni, army generals, or politicians with whom we have connections—are one way to advance our careers and secure good and comfortable lifestyles. Sometimes, however, nepotistic support is not an option. For most of us, there are times in our lives when we must leave our families and join a new group in which we have no connections to help us. Chances are that this new group already has a clear power structure and a well-established dominance ladder. Our success in this new environment will depend on our ability to negotiate the ladder, and we have no one to depend on but ourselves.
Male rhesus macaques on the brink of adulthood are confronted with this very situation. When male macaques reach puberty, they emigrate from their familial group—in which their friends and their mother, sisters, and other maternal relatives reside—and join a new, entirely unfamiliar group. Like a young male rhesus macaque who realizes he can’t make a reproductive career in his natal group, I left my family, my support network, and my country after college to emigrate to the United States. In both macaques and people, such transfers are by no means limited to the beginnings of reproductive or professional careers. Monkeys and people also make “secondary” transfers later in life in order to seek even better reproductive and career opportunities. The kinds of problems they encounter in these secondary transfers, however, are generally quite similar to those of their first move.
Whether you are a rhesus macaque or a human being, you’ve probably experienced transfers into a new group at some point in your life. And you know that not everyone will roll out the red carpet for a newcomer. Even though most people who enter a new workplace have been hired, which means that they are wanted and welcomed by someone in the organization, they must contend there with an established power structure that is generally resistant to change. As discussed in Chapter 2, human workplaces—whether they are large corporations, military organizations, theater companies, or schools and colleges—have dominance hierarchies, just like monkey groups. People who have worked hard to climb the ladder—whether they are now all the way at the top or simply one step up from the bottom—are not happy to step aside and make room for a newcomer. In both macaque and human societies, the newcomer is seen as a competitor, and therefore his or her arrival into the group is likely to be met with indifference, resistance, or outright rejection. The newcomer, then, must cultivate relationships with these strangers and try to obtain their support through exchanges of favors or other means. When there are no relatives around to help, success depends not on nepotism but on politics. But in humans and macaques, there are different ways to play the politics game, and different ways to climb the ladder.
Here I would like to explore three different strategies for climbing the ladder that are used by both humans and male macaques. Each strategy is illustrated by a story: I begin by sharing the three human stories—with fictional characters named Gina, Mario, and Sarah—and then tell three parallel monkey stories involving male macaques named Billy, Rambo, and Max.
Primatologists have developed theoretical models that explain why these different strategies for climbing the ladder exist and under what circumstances each one is most effective. Primatologists have also created models that explain when it is advantageous to form political coalitions with others to change the order on the ladder and what kinds of coalitions are most advantageous under what circumstances and why. As we’ve seen before, these models combine principles from evolutionary biology with economic cost-benefit analysis. Although the way people and monkeys play the game of politics is not exactly the same, there may be enough similarities between the people’s stories and the monkeys’ stories to convince you that the theories that explain monkey behavior can explain our behavior too.
Human Stories
THE GOOD CITIZEN
In her first few years of employment as a systems analyst at Microsoft, twenty-seven-year-old Gina worked hard and kept a low profile. Whenever she ran into a coworker in the hallways of their building, she would smile and make small talk. During business meetings in her department, Gina sat quietly in the back of the room and never asked questions or volunteered an opinion on the topics of discussion. When a coworker turned to her for a reaction, she would smile and nod. If directly asked for an endorsement of a proposal that the majority supported, she readily offered it. Asked for an opinion on a controversial subject over which the group was divided, she would diplomatically avoid taking a position on the issue, claiming that she was new to the company and didn’t know enough about the matter in question to have an opinion. She never missed a meeting and regularly showed up at the department’s “happy hour” events.
Gina was often called into her boss’s office and given extra assignments. Thus, in addition to the normal duties that were part of her position, she also took on extra work for the department that was above and beyond her responsibilities. When the boss would ask in a business meeting if anyone was willing or had time to take on some extra work, everybody else made excuses about being too busy or not having the expertise or the resources to take up the new responsibility. Gina, however, made no excuses and readily volunteered for the new assignments. And it wasn’t only the boss who was giving Gina extra work. Other senior colleagues of Gina’s, by asking her for this or that favor, also dumped on her aspects of their work they didn’t like. Gina, of course, couldn’t say no. Gina wasn’t the only employee who was asked to do extra work; this happened to other junior employees who had been with the company for a year or two. Like Gina, her junior coworkers couldn’t dodge requests to do extra work, but they didn’t look as pleased as she did when accepting the extra assignments, and in some cases they voiced a complaint. They sometimes missed business meetings or happy hours not only to avoid getting caught in these situations but also to register a silent protest against what they considered “professional abuse” on the part of their boss and their senior coworkers. This, of course, meant that Gina—who never missed a meeting—ended up doing most of the extra work.
Behind the facade of smiles and happiness, Gina was quite resentful about the additional work she was forced to do. Although many requests came from her senior coworkers, Gina wasn’t as mad at them as she was at her junior colleagues who, by not showing up at meetings, avoided some of these requests. Although Gina and her junior colleagues were essentially in the same boat and could have benefited from establishing friendly and cooperative relationships among themselves, Gina didn’t think that it would advance her career to form alliances with coworkers who appeared to be as powerless as she was. She decided that the best—or the only—opportunities for improving her professional position would come from the support and generosity of the people at the top of the power hierarchy. Gina counted on the expectation that by constantly pleasing her superiors and accommodating their requests she would eventually be rewarded by them. She knew that it was highly unlikely that her boss would offer her a big promotion or a significant salary raise out of the blue. But she thought there was a chance that being a good citizen and keeping a low profile would enable her to experience a slow but gradual rise thr
ough the ranks. It helped Gina in her use of this strategy that she had an easygoing personality and a nonreactive, unimpulsive temperament. She knew that making it in this new workplace would take a long time, but she was willing to wait—without rocking the boat.
THE YOUNG TURK
Mario was a twenty-six-year-old biologist who had just finished his doctorate and accepted a two-year position as a postdoctoral researcher at the University of Arizona in a research group led by Prof. Michael Levine, a world-renowned authority in his field. Mario had been a straight-A student from first grade all the way through graduate school and never had a doubt in his mind about his potential for a successful career in academia. During his years in graduate school, he had done a great deal of research, sharpened his critical thinking skills, and developed the ability—or so he thought—to distinguish interesting research questions from uninteresting ones, to tell good science from bad, and to discriminate between smart scientists and phonies. Despite the fact that Mario had only recently obtained his doctorate, he had already achieved some recognition as an independent scientist by publishing articles and being invited to give presentations at prestigious conferences.
Twenty years of successful performances, first in school and later in college, had given Mario a high degree of self-confidence. This belief in the value of his own ideas and the quality of his work had also produced an arrogance in Mario, accompanied by a disregard for others’ viewpoints. Mario was a highly driven and motivated young man who pursued his goals with extreme tenacity and persistence. Not surprisingly, he was also a self-absorbed person with poor social skills—he was embarrassingly bad at reading other people’s emotions and communicating with them without hurting their feelings. A highly competitive and anxious individual—traits commonly associated with high testosterone in the body and low serotonin in the brain—Mario was also a highly impulsive person who did not hesitate to launch himself into direct confrontations with others, at least on intellectual matters.
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