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 stirred up quite a debate with his book De Zeven Vinkjes (The Seven Checkmarks). His argument: 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? Being male, white, straight, having an academic degree, born in The Netherlands, speaking ‘proper’ Dutch, and growing up with rich or well-educated parents.
The book hit a nerve. Some people recognized themselves instantly. Others felt attacked. But whether you cheered or rolled your eyes, one thing was undeniable: these advantages compound in ways most of us don’t see, especially when we have them.
My Seven Checkmarks
I’ll admit it right away: I tick all seven boxes. All of them.
Now, before you imagine me growing up in a mansion with a tennis court and ponies: nope. My parents were middle class. My mom was a primary school teacher, my dad had a steady job for the Dutch government. We were comfortable, but our family cars were second-hand Toyotas that definitely didn’t have massage seats.
Still, the advantages were real. And they’re still working for me today:
Being male means I’ve never had my assertiveness labeled as “aggressive” or been told to smile more in meetings. I can speak up, interrupt occasionally, show confidence without it being called arrogance. I’ve never had to calculate whether my tone might make someone uncomfortable.
Being white means I’ve probably looked like the reference image when hiring managers picture “a good fit.” I’ve never been “the diverse hire” or wondered if my name on a resume 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 even before I proved I deserved to walk through them. That piece of paper signaled “capable” before I’d accomplished anything meaningful. It gave me the benefit of the doubt in ways I didn’t earn 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 would 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 meant no visa anxiety, no bureaucratic nightmares to prove I had a right to be here, no extra hoops to jump through for every job application. My existence here has never been questioned.
And most of all I had loving, well-educated parents who provided stability when I grew up. I could take career risks because I had a safety net. I could fail without catastrophe.
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 predominantly 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. 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.
And here’s the part that sometimes makes me a little uncomfortable, now that I’m aware of it: these advantages don’t stop after you get hired. They compound.
When I succeeded early in my career, people assumed it was competence. When I made mistakes, they were treated as learning experiences, not confirmation that I didn’t belong. When I spoke up in meetings, people listened. When I negotiated salary, I was seen as confident and assertive, not greedy.
At every step, I got the better interpretation of ambiguous signals. That’s what privilege does: it tips perception 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 at work where I’m occasionally responsible for evaluating others. That could be in interviews, in team settings, or in 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 because they remind me of me?
When I see someone who’s confident, articulate and has 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 is it just that they don’t mirror my own advantages back at me?
If I have a preference for people who “feel right” without examining why they feel right, I’m just reproducing the same advantages I benefited from. Teams are 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: Acknowledging privilege doesn’t mean I didn’t work hard. It means I worked hard with a tailwind.
I did build my career through effort, learning, preparation, and intentional choices. I did save money, negotiated opportunities, and took risks to get where I am today. That’s all real.
But I also did it from a starting line that was a bit 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.
So both things can be true: You can work hard, and have massive advantages. Pretending otherwise would just make you blind.
Final Thought
I can’t undo my advantages or give back my checkmarks. But I can at least be honest about them. Every story I tell on this blog is filtered through them. When I write about negotiating salary, graduating debt-free, or taking career risks, all of that happened in a context where the odds were tilted in my favor. You need to know that before comparing your path to mine.
Privilege isn’t something to feel guilty about, since guilt like that won’t get you anywhere. But it is something to be conscious of, because that consciousness changes how you use advantages you didn’t choose. This blog is about my money and my emotions and actions because of it. But all of that happens in context. And my context includes starting the race closer to the finish line.
You deserve to know that before you read another word.
So here’s my question to you: What privileges or head starts do you recognize in your own life, and how do they shape the lens through which you see others?
Many readers share these lessons in their own circles. If this story gave you something, feel free to pass it on!
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