Geneva Babies: From Switzerland with Privilege
Recently, I came across an interesting term: ‘Geneva babies’. It’s not an official label, but a shorthand used among some UN staff. It describes the children of UN workers based in Geneva, the home of the UN headquarters.
These children can be characterised as growing up multilingual, well-travelled, well-connected, cosmopolitan, and privately educated in the top international schools. Often it’s said with a wry smile or an awkward sigh, there’s an irony to the term. It carries a subtle sense of uneasy recognition of the enormous levels of accumulated cultural, social, and economic capital which are passed on through the lifestyle of a UN development worker.
The dichotomy is interesting. The children of people professionally dedicated to reducing inequality, make up an international-class of elite who embody privilege and inherited success. In this context, privilege is not peripheral, it actively replicates the social hierarchy. Even the most progressive institutions of the world can become architects of elite continuity. The more I learn about phenomena like Geneva babies, the more I wonder, at what point does human instinct start to reproduce the societal imbalances we work to eradicate?
As educators we learn about ways we can level the playing field and increase equity among students. Inherently, one of the broad goals of education is to work towards a less unequal society. We want to believe in the liberatory potential of education, that no matter what background a child is from, they can excel in life. My wife works for the UN. We married last year, and we’ve started to talk about the future. We have also tentatively spoken about what kind of life we’d want for our children. What kind of schools they’d go to. We’re an international couple so naturally we discuss what languages they might speak. We also talk about what kind of opportunities living in a certain location might open up for them.
This is the paradox. The UN, like many global institutions, is built around principles of equity and justice. But within its structures, advantage is able to accumulate. Staff benefits support private schooling. Professional networks open doors for children. The lives built within the organisation can end up replicating similar inequalities it aims to eliminate. Avoiding sanctimonious or judgemental blame, in order to understand why society functions the way it does, it’s important to observe the features of the ways inequality perpetuates. Most people working in these systems are acutely aware of privilege, and that’s part of the complexity. So, what then, does the phenomenon of Geneva babies suggest more broadly about how social reproduction can operate today?
Firstly, ‘Geneva babies’ highlight a transnational reproduction of privilege. Whereas Pierre Bourdieu’s conceptualisation of social reproduction was a matter of continuity among local or national classes, this isn’t really the case in this example. These children grow up across borders, speaking several languages, and move comfortably through institutions of global power. This form of reproduction transcends state structure and reflects a new, borderless class position.
Second, ‘Geneva babies’ exhibit how reproduction isn’t always unconscious. In many cases, it takes place within systems that explicitly aim to reduce inequality. The contradiction is visible, discussed and acknowledged, and sometimes it’s even awkwardly joked about, but it still survives. Reproduction while knowing reflects something more than just institutional design. It’s rooted in a natural, rational desire to secure a prosperous future for one’s own. This powerful desire is something that exists across cultures and ideologies. It isn’t conditional on a certain class position or a person’s held political values; it’s a near-universal impulse.
Even Karl Marx, the most ideological, fervent critic of accumulated wealth, in his later years, lived in the upper-middle class suburb of Hampstead. While he wrote about revolution and class struggle, at the same time in letters he would privately bemoan the cost of his daughter’s piano lessons. He understood inequality better than most. And still he wanted his children to have all the refinement of a middle-class life. This demonstrates how the instinct to provide isn’t unbiased. Even among those who most acutely understand inequality, the inclination to cushion one’s own from discomfort in life can supersede more abstract and intangible principles of fairness. The uncomfortable truth is, privilege doesn’t always reproduce itself through arrogance or malice, but through love.
