Last time in my newsletter, I mentioned that I would talk about privilege. It’s a complicated topic, but I’ll try.
Privilege is invisible, yet tangible and deeply rooted. It is also open to interpretation.
Let’s start with the negative of the film roll: all it takes to belong to a cultural elite is to define oneself as an intellectual and despise money (at least outwardly). To be part of an entrepreneurial elite, all it takes is to be a founder who has raised capital. Sometimes, it is simply about being born in a certain family, in a certain place. At the same time, not belonging to something is enough to feel excluded from it.
While studying populist movements, I realized that resentment toward groups we don’t belong to often distorts the concept of privilege. Instead of recognizing privilege as a form of responsibility within one’s group, it becomes a target for frustration. This is not to say that elites don’t exist, or that they don’t systematically exclude certain groups—of course they do, and in some cases, the consequences are severe. But if we go to the root of the issue, the real trigger is not classism—because classism is a form of prejudice. The real issue is unawareness and the lack of communication between groups, which is simply the other side of classism.
Those who lash out against privilege are often unaware of their own. The very idea of privilege is intertwined with group dynamics and belonging, and once you start seeing and acknowledging it, you can expand its meaning. If we allow space for this awareness, we begin to uncover fascinating insights—but it requires dialogue and attention (which, as Simone Weil said, is the rarest form of generosity).
Often, when privilege is framed as inherently negative, it stems from a lack of recognition of advantages others may have—which is closely tied to envy. The feeling that others should not have what we don’t. Envy is a complex social phenomenon, and for those interested, I highly recommend the book Cinderella and Her Sisters, which challenges many simplistic perceptions. Scratching beneath the surface of our biases, our views on privilege, and even envy itself, is a valuable exercise. And the good news is—there is something worth discovering down there.
Humans are constantly redefining rules and languages to incorporate outsiders into existing groups, or to form new groups altogether. Every group, in doing so, creates its own rules of engagement, determining who can participate and under what conditions. These rules, in turn, serve to justify the group’s ambitions and interests, while simultaneously exposing it to the ambitions and interests of others—sometimes in opposition (competition), sometimes in alignment (alliance), and often somewhere in between.
Take meritocracy, for example. It is one of these “rules of the game” used to determine membership in an educational elite. But as Michael Sandel points out in The Tyranny of Merit, we should be cautious about assuming meritocracy is inherently good.
So, returning to the initial question—if privilege is so obvious, why is it also so invisible? What is the brighter side of the negative of the film roll that we are still not seeing?
I believe the other side of privilege is belonging—and this is particularly relevant in venture capital, which, given its nature, has immense cultural potential for expansion.
Belonging helps us understand how complex human groups function—but we must be willing to engage with it. To grasp what belonging means, try looking at one of your own groups and identifying what deeply connects you to it. Sometimes, explicitly recognizing your own sense of belonging allows you to evolve it. These constellations of relationships shape us and determine how we move through the world.
Here’s a simple exercise:
- gruppo 1 _______
- gruppo 2 _______
- gruppo 3 _______
Among my own groups of belonging, I count writing, theater, Noventa, my family, and France. I know these are the strongest ties I have, though there are many others, including meritocratic circles, startups, politics, and mediation, where I have an active role. And with this, I hope I have clarified the difference between belonging to something and simply being part of something.
I once heard a quote by Ginevra Elkann: “At some point, you realize where you come from and where you want to go.” Every form of privilege is also a responsibility, and knowing where you come from is essential to having the freedom to shape your own personal constellation.
I don’t want to impose one of my “Silviathustra” moments on my readers, but I do think that taking a moment to look at our feet and recognize where we stand and where we want to walk would be a source of clarity for many.
We talk about purpose all the time, but what does that actually mean? I believe that if you don’t feel where your feet are planted, you won’t know where your purpose is.
And finally, in venture capital, understanding belonging is fundamental. To see the positive of the film roll, to see the printed photograph where both negatives merge, one must recognize that we all bring unique elements to the table. Privilege is also the ability to draw from diverse and complementary sources.
A startup, at its core, is a group seeking to form new alliances and redefine existing rules. It is not made up of robots (unless it’s in robotics), but of humans, each with their own backgrounds and affiliations. And whether they realize it or not, they are leveraging their privilege—both inherited and acquired—to create an impact in the world that aligns with their identities and values.
Being aware of the boundaries in which we operate is crucial for any venture. A startup must be conscious of its own development path, balancing its need for structure with its ability to evolve. Understanding the impact of these dynamics benefits not just the startup, but everyone involved—including, perhaps, those who have been outside these spaces for far too long.
Because, as someone I know once said, belonging is a fundamental human calling. The real question is—what do we choose to do with it?
Dedicated to my friends, rich in spirit.
And to a mentor who once told me that my constant “blabla” was just an attempt at writing. Who would have thought—maybe I wasn’t even fully aware myself that I belonged to the group of people who, to express themselves, write.
So, what is my bubble?
