I tick all the privilege boxes. That’s not guilt or bragging, it’s context for everything I write about money. Here’s what having the odds stacked in your favor actually looks like.
In 2022, Dutch journalist Joris Luyendijk published a book that pissed off a part of the country, made another nod along uncomfortably, and opened the eyes of many. His book, De Zeven Vinkjes (The Seven Checkmarks), argued that if you tick seven specific boxes, your odds of ending up in the cultural or financial elite in The Netherlands are much higher.
The seven? Male, white, straight, academic degree, speaking ‘proper’ Dutch, having at least one Dutch parent, and having them be rich or well-educated. The result when you tick all the checkmarks? You’ll fit in more easily with the culture of the elite, because these traits form their collective foundation.
Maybe you’re reading this and already counting your own checkmarks, or maybe you’re thinking about the ones you don’t have. Either way, I promise this isn’t about making anyone feel bad. It’s about seeing the invisible forces that shape all of our paths, because this combination of real-life natural 20’s compounds in ways most of us don’t see, especially when we have them.
My Seven Checkmarks
I tick all seven boxes. All of them.
Now before you picture me growing up in a mansion with a tennis court and ponies: nope. I'm not the heir to a multi-billion empire, and you will not unexpectedly fly business class with me if we're taking a trip. I grew up in a normal middle class household: My mom was a primary school teacher, and my dad worked for the Dutch government. We were comfortable, but our family cars were second-hand Toyotas that definitely didn’t have massage seats.
Nevertheless, the advantages were real. And they’re still working for me today:
Being male means I’ve never had my assertiveness called “aggressive” or been told to smile more in meetings. I can speak up, interrupt occasionally, and show confidence without it being labeled arrogance. I’ve never had to calculate whether my tone might make someone uncomfortable.
Being white means I probably looked like what hiring managers picture when they think “good fit.” I’ve never been the “token hire”, or wondered if my name got me filtered out before anyone read my qualifications. I’ve never walked into a client meeting and felt eyes scanning me to confirm I belonged there.
My university diploma opened doors before I proved I deserved to walk through them. That piece of paper signaled “capable” before I’d done anything meaningful. It gave me the benefit of the doubt before having even earned it yet.
Being straight meant I never had to decide whether to mention a partner at a work event, never calculated whether being honest about my personal life might cost me opportunities. My romantic life has never been a professional risk.
I speak ‘proper’ Dutch, no regional accent that might code me as “less educated” or “provincial”. That sounds trivial, until you realize how much snap judgment happens in the first thirty seconds of conversation.
Being born in The Netherlands and having Dutch parents meant no visa anxiety, no bureaucratic nightmares proving I had a right to be there, no extra hoops for every job application. My existence and presence have never been questioned.
And most of all, I had loving, well-educated parents who provided stability growing up. I could take career risks because I had a safety net. I could fail without it being catastrophic.
If you’re keeping count and realize you have fewer checkmarks than I do, I want you to know this: the fact that you’ve gotten where you are with more headwinds makes your achievements even more impressive, not less. And if you have all seven like me, maybe some of this is starting to feel uncomfortably familiar.
What Privilege Actually Does
Here’s what I didn’t understand when I was younger: privilege isn’t just about the doors that open. It’s mostly about the doors you never see closed.
It’s not getting the job because you ticked boxes, it’s never being filtered out before the interview upfront. It’s not being handed opportunities, it’s being given the benefit of the doubt when you stumble. And it’s not having everything easy, it’s having the invisible cushion that makes failure less catastrophic.
The slightly uncomfortable part, now that I’m aware of it? These advantages don’t stop after you get hired. They compound like crazy.
When I succeeded early in my career, people assumed it was competence. When I made mistakes, they got treated as learning experiences rather than confirmation I didn’t belong. When I spoke up in meetings, people listened. When I negotiated salary, I was seen as confident, not greedy.
At every step, I got the better interpretation of ambiguous signals. That’s what privilege does: it tips the perception of others in your favor, over and over, in small ways that add up to massive advantages over time.
The Uncomfortable Question I Have to Ask Myself
I’m in a position now where I occasionally evaluate others. Think stuff like interviews, team dynamics, and decisions about who gets opportunities.
And I have to ask myself: When someone feels “right” for a role, is it because they’re actually the best fit? Or is it simply because they remind me of myself?
When I see someone who’s confident, articulate, and with the “right” background, am I recognizing competence or just familiarity? When someone with a different background or communication style doesn’t immediately “click”, is that a real culture misfit, or just that they don’t mirror my own advantages back at me?
If I prefer people who “feel right” without examining why that is, I’m just reproducing the same advantages I benefited from. Teams get created that look like the stock photo from the HR handbook, and then we call it “meritocracy” afterwards.
Privilege and Effort Aren’t Opposites
Here’s what took me too long to understand as well, especially if realizing your privilege also makes you somewhat uncomfortable: acknowledging privilege doesn’t mean you didn’t work hard. It just means you worked hard while also having a tailwind.
I did build my career through effort, learning, preparation, and intentional choices. I saved money, negotiated opportunities, and took some risks to get where I am. That’s all real.
But I also did it from a starting line closer to the finish. I did it with fewer headwinds and more benefit-of-the-doubt. I did it in a context where my advantages were invisible to me, but obvious to everyone who didn’t have them.
It’s essentially social dynamics meeting quantum theory, because both working hard and having massive advantages can be true at once. Pretending otherwise will just make you blind.
No Need For Guilt, But A Little Awareness Instead
Think about a time when someone gave you the benefit of the doubt. Was it because you earned it, or because you looked like what they expected success to look like? It’s not always easy to tell the difference, and that’s exactly the point.
Privilege isn’t something to feel guilty about. I can’t undo my advantages or give them back, but I can at least be honest about them. This blog is about my money, my emotions, and my actions. All of it real, but all of it also happening in a social context where the odds were often tilted slightly in my favor.
You deserve to know that context before reading anything else I write about money. My stories are real, my lessons are hard-won, but some of them also happened on a playing field where I started a little closer to the finish line. That doesn’t invalidate the lessons themselves, but it does affect how you can put them in the context of your own experiences.
If this story gave you something, feel free to pass it on!
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