5 Historical Nepo Babies Who Make The Roys Look Regal

If you’ve ever watched Succession and thought, “Wow, imagine being born into a private helicopter and still
finding a way to emotionally faceplant into every meeting,” congratulations: you understand the basic energy of a
nepo baby. But history? History looked at modern nepotism, laughed politely, and then unveiled a gilded scrapbook
labeled “Inherited Power: Now With More Assassinations.”

The Roys are fictional media barons with boardroom problems, therapy problems, and “who accidentally texted the
group chat?” problems. The people below were handed empires, crowns, and churches like party favorsand responded
with the kind of chaos that makes the Roys seem downright ceremonial. These are five historical nepo babies whose
family connections didn’t just open doors… they kicked down entire civilizations.

What “Nepo Baby” Means in a Historical Context

In Hollywood, nepotism is when your last name gets you a pilot. In history, nepotism is when your last name gets
you a country, an army, or the spiritual keys to heavenand your first major decision is, “Let’s make the court
hate me as a hobby.”

Dynastic succession wasn’t a quirky industry perk; it was the default operating system. “Merit” was often a rumor
traveling slowly by horse. And when a person raised on entitlement gets absolute power, you don’t get a mildly
annoying executive. You get a ruler who treats reality like an optional subscription.

1) Caligula: The Tiny-Boot Nepo Baby Who Turned Rome Into a Stress Dream

Before he was the emperor everyone uses as shorthand for “this meeting could have been an email,” Caligula was
Gaius, the son of the celebrated general Germanicus. As a child, he trotted around military camps
wearing little soldier bootscaligaeand the troops nicknamed him “Caligula,” basically “Bootie.”
It’s adorable until you remember the sequel is political terror.

How the family name handed him the keys

Rome didn’t do elections the way we imagine; it did proximity to power, patronage, and “please don’t let the army
riot.” Caligula was part of the imperial family tree, and that tree came with a throne-shaped fruit basket.
When he succeeded Tiberius, he didn’t just inherit authorityhe inherited a system built to obey him.

How it went off the rails (and into the Colosseum gift shop)

Caligula’s reign is notorious for extravagant spending, cruelty, and humiliating the Senate like it was a sport.
The horse storyIncitatusgets repeated constantly, often as “Caligula made his horse a consul.”
The historical reality is murkier: it’s possible he threatened or joked about it to mock the
political class. Either way, that’s still a man using the entire state as a one-person roast session.

Even his most meme-able episodes point to something darker: power without restraint, surrounded by people whose job
was to applaud. Imagine the Roy kids with unlimited authority, plus an ancient empire’s worth of people who can’t
quit because quitting is treason.

Why Caligula makes the Roys look regal

The Roys might tank a stock price. Caligula helped normalize the idea that the head of state could behave like a
capricious performance artist and still expect obedience. In terms of “nepo baby consequences,” that’s not a
quarterly lossit’s a civilizational migraine.

2) Commodus: The Emperor Who Treated Rome Like His Personal Gladiator DLC

Commodus was the son of Marcus Aureliusyes, that Marcus Aurelius, the philosopher-emperor whose journal
became the world’s most elegant “keep calm and carry on.” Commodus inherited the imperial brand and then used it to
endorse a very different product: Commodus, Live at the Arena.

How the family name handed him the keys

Commodus didn’t claw his way up through military genius or political coalition-building. He was born into the
Antonine dynasty and elevated early. When your dad is the emperor, the career ladder is basically a trampoline.

How it went off the rails

Commodus became infamous for indulging in spectacle, surrounding himself with questionable advisors, and alienating
elites. One of the most jaw-dropping details: he took part in staged combat and leaned into gladiatorial imagery as
a ruler. To the Roman elite, that wasn’t “relatable.” That was the emperor cosplaying as the entertainment.

After a failed assassination plot involving his sister Lucilla and others, his rule grew more paranoid and
punitive. When a regime turns into a fear factory, nepotism doesn’t just look like unfair advantageit becomes the
mechanism that installs the factory manager.

Why Commodus makes the Roys look regal

Kendall might fantasize about being a visionary. Commodus fantasized about being Hercules in the arena while the
empire’s governance ran on fumes. It’s the difference between “I embarrassed myself onstage” and “I embarrassed the
entire concept of leadership.”

3) Edward II: Born to Rule, Destined to Get Voted Off the Island

Edward II of England inherited the crown from Edward I, a formidable ruler who expected competence the way medieval
winters expected misery. Unfortunately, Edward II brought a different skill set to the throne: a talent for
angering powerful nobles and choosing favorites that turned politics into a never-ending feud.

How the family name handed him the keys

Medieval monarchy didn’t ask, “Is he good at the job?” It asked, “Is he the correct baby?” Edward II was the
correct baby, which meant he became kingand then discovered that “inherited power” comes with inherited enemies.

How it went off the rails

Edward’s close relationship with Piers Gaveston sparked intense resentment among the barons, in part because royal
favor translated into titles, wealth, and influence. When Gaveston was banished, recalled, and ultimately killed,
the pattern didn’t endit just rebranded. Later, Edward relied heavily on the Despensers, fueling more conflict,
more rebellion, and more “please stop making your court a chaos laboratory.”

The breaking point arrived when Queen Isabella and her ally (and romantic partner) Roger Mortimer invaded, toppled
Edward, and pushed the crown onto Edward III. It’s hard to imagine a more severe performance review than “your
spouse returned from France with an army and a new boyfriend.”

Why Edward II makes the Roys look regal

The Roy siblings might lose a board vote. Edward II lost a kingdomthen became a cautionary tale about how
favoritism and poor political instincts can make even a divinely anointed monarch look… extremely fireable.

4) Cesare Borgia: The Papal Nepo Baby Who Speedran Power (and Inspired Machiavelli)

If you want a historical example of nepotism with a capital N, welcome to Renaissance Rome, where power was traded
like luxury real estate and “family business” could include the Church, regional armies, and multiple scandalous
rumors per week.

Cesare Borgia was the son of Rodrigo Borgia, who became Pope Alexander VI. That alone is a résumé enhancer. But
Cesare’s career is the kind of fast-tracked ascent that makes modern nepotism look like a cautious internship.

How the family name handed him the keys

Alexander VI elevated Cesare quickly, including making him a cardinal while still very young. In a world where the
papacy was also a political powerhouse, this wasn’t just a church jobit was a launchpad to real territorial power.

How it went off the rails (strategically)

Cesare later pivoted from churchman to military leader and became a central figure in papal state-building. His
mix of calculated alliances, intimidation, and violence became so textbook that Niccolò Machiavelli used him as one
of the real-world inspirations behind The Prince. That’s not a flattering Yelp review. That’s history’s
way of saying, “This guy was so effective at ruthless politics we turned him into a manual.”

The Borgia project was also fragile: it relied heavily on the pope’s backing. When Alexander VI died, Cesare’s
power base cracked. Nepotism can build a rocketbut if the rocket is powered by one person’s patronage, it can also
explode the minute the sponsor disappears.

Why Cesare makes the Roys look regal

The Roy kids weaponize PR. Cesare weaponized armies. The difference is scaleand the fact that Renaissance politics
didn’t have HR. It had daggers, exile, and the occasional carefully timed “accident.”

5) Charles II of Spain: The Inherited Crown That Came With a Family-Tree Warning Label

Charles II of Spain became king as a child and ruled as the last Spanish monarch of the Habsburg dynasty. The
tragedy isn’t just that he inherited immense responsibility very youngit’s that the dynasty’s long history of
inbreeding likely contributed to severe health problems that shaped his life and reign.

How the family name handed him the keys

This was dynastic succession at its most literal: Charles didn’t “rise” to power; he was placed there by birth.
The Spanish Habsburgs had built an empire and a legacy, and Charles was next in lineregardless of whether his body
and court were prepared for what that meant.

How it went off the rails (quietly, tragically)

Accounts of Charles II’s health describe a life shaped by illness. Meanwhile, European powers watched Spain’s
succession with the focus of people eyeing the last slice of pizza at a party: politely, but with plans.
When Charles died childless, the succession crisis helped trigger the War of the Spanish Successionan enormous
conflict tied to who would inherit what was left of the Spanish Habsburg legacy.

It’s a different kind of nepo baby story. Not the flamboyant kind. The heartbreaking kind: when inherited power is
fused to inherited biology, and politics turns a human being into a geopolitical question mark.

Why Charles makes the Roys look regal

The Roys inherit wealth and dysfunction. Charles inherited an empire and a dynastic medical crisisand his life
became a cautionary tale about how “keeping it in the family” can collapse both a person and a political order.

So… Are the Roys Actually the Least Terrifying Nepo Babies?

Compared to emperors who played chicken with the Senate, kings who got overthrown by their spouse, and dynasties
whose genetics became a historical warning sign, the Roys are practically a polite family business.
Which is not a compliment to the Roys. It’s an indictment of history.

The recurring pattern is simple: nepotism doesn’t just give someone a head start. It can give them a stage, a
sword, and a crowd that’s too afraid to boo. And when accountability disappears, even “minor” personality flaws can
scale up into national disasters.

Extra: 5 “Nepo Baby” Experiences That Hit Different Once You Know the History

Let’s make this painfully relatable. You don’t need a marble palace to recognize the feeling of watching someone
fail upward. Once you learn how often history ran on inherited power, the modern world starts to look like a remake
with better lighting and worse swords.

Experience #1: The museum moment. You’re standing in front of a portraitsome teenager in velvet,
holding a scepter like they just discovered their hands. The plaque says “King at age 4” or “Cardinal at 18,” and
your brain does the math: while you were struggling with basic homework, this person technically owned your
ancestors. It’s hard not to laugh, except the laugh gets stuck because you realize the consequences weren’t funny
for anyone without the velvet.

Experience #2: The “favorites” flashback. You read about Edward II showering attention and power on
Gaveston and later the Despensers, and suddenly every modern workplace clique makes more sense. You’ve seen how a
leader’s chosen inner circle can become a shadow governmentjust with fewer castles and more Slack channels. The
medieval version had barons and rebellions. The modern version has passive-aggressive calendar invites and a
mysterious reshuffling of budgets.

Experience #3: The Caligula meme whiplash. You hear the horse story for the hundredth time and
laugh, because it’s absurd. Then you learn the story may be exaggerated or symbolicpossibly a way to humiliate the
Senateand you stop laughing for a second. Because the point wasn’t really the horse. The point was: “I can say
anything, do anything, and you still have to pretend it’s normal.” That’s not just ancient tyranny. That’s a mood
that pops up whenever power stops caring about reality.

Experience #4: The “celebrity ruler” cringe. Commodus performing as a gladiator lands differently
when you imagine the head of state treating governance like a brand extension. You can almost hear the court
strategists whispering, “Yes, Your Majesty, the empire totally loves this.” It’s the same uncomfortable energy as
watching a wildly privileged person chase applause while everyone around them quietly handles the consequences.
The difference is that the consequences used to involve famine, purges, or armiesnot just a bad quarterly report.

Experience #5: The inheritance you can’t opt out of. Charles II’s story isn’t a punchline; it’s a
reminder that dynastic politics turned a human being into a vessel for legacy. When you read about health problems
tied to generations of inbreeding, you feel the grim weight of systems that treat individuals as tools. It reframes
the whole “born into it” concept: sometimes the inheritance isn’t just privilegeit’s pressure, isolation, and a
life lived under the microscope of international ambition.

And here’s the weirdest part: after soaking in all this, modern nepotism doesn’t disappearit just becomes easier
to spot. You start noticing how often “connections” get framed as “destiny,” how frequently institutions defend
inherited power as “stability,” and how quickly a charismatic last name can substitute for competence. History
doesn’t make you cynical. It makes you alert.

So next time you watch a rich heir melt down in a boardroom, remember: it could be worse. They could have a legion,
a crown, or a papal army. And the ability to turn their personal issues into a national emergency.