Abstract: Using the example of Andean archaeology, this article focuses on subtle forms of inequality that arise when academic communities are conceptualized as friendship-based and egalitarian, rejecting explicit hierarchy. I describe this as performative informality and argue that it stems from a meritocratic ideology that inadvertently reproduces Euro-American white-male privilege. In a discipline that prides itself on its friendliness, openness, and alcohol-fueled drinking culture, those who find themselves unable to enact or perform informality appropriately are at a distinct disadvantage. Drawing from a multisited ethnography of Andeanist archaeologists, I make the case that it is the ephemerality and plausible deniability of performative informality that makes it hard to recognize and thus mitigate against it. In doing so, I draw on and contribute to the theorization of gender/class intersectionality in anthropology and science studies, US conceptualizations of meritocracy in academia and higher education, and feminist Jo Freeman’s concept of “the tyranny of structurelessness.” [anthropology of science, ethnography of archaeology, class, gender, anthropology of work and education] RESUMEN Usando el ejemplo de la arqueología andina, este artículo se enfoca en las formas sutiles de la desigualdad que surgen cuando las comunidades académicas se conceptualizan como basadas en la amistad e igualitarias, rechazando la jerarquía explícita. Describo esto como informalidad performativa y argumento que proviene de una ideología de meritocracia que reproduce inadvertidamente el privilegio de hombre blanco euroamericano. En una disciplina que se enorgullece de su amabilidad, apertura, y una cultura impulsada por el consumo de alcohol, aquellos que se ven así mismos incapaces de actuar o representar la informalidad apropiadamente están en una desventaja distinta. Basada en una etnografía multilocal de arqueólogos andinos presento el argumento de que es la efimeralidad y la deseabilidad plausible de la informalidad performativa lo que hace difícil reconocer y por tanto mitigar en su contra. Al hacerlo, me baso en y contribuyo a la teorización de la interseccionalidad de género/clase en antropología y estudios de las ciencias, conceptualizaciones estadounidenses de meritocracia en academia y educación superior, y el concepto feminista de Jo Freeman de “la tiranía de la falta de estructuras”. [antropología de la ciencia, etnografía de la arqueología, clase, género, antropología del trabajo y la educación] D a 2011 interview, a North American1 Andeanist archaeologist,who I’ll call Hannah, described an early experience that almost led her to leave archaeology. I’m always respectful and I was always eager. But unfortunately, with the boss of the project, he sort of requires, and really really AMERICAN ANTHROPOLOGIST, Vol. 000, No. 0, pp. 1–15, ISSN 0002-7294, online ISSN 1548-1433. © 2020 by the American Anthropological Association. All rights reserved. DOI: 10.1111/aman.13455 likes, if you kiss ass.That was really hard. Because the other graduate students, they were much older than me and were like, “Well, you need to kiss more ass.” Very blatantly, like, “If you want to make it in this field, you need to be doing this, you need to be...” And I was like, “Are you kidding me? I’m here every day, I do my work, I’m respectful, I’m eager.”...And it was implied that this is how [archaeology] works, but especially with someone with such 2 American Anthropologist • Vol. 000, No. 0 • xxxx 2020 a status [as] this person. For example, one of the other graduate students would read in the evening something that the professor wrote, and then come in the morning like, “I had this really great idea!” Something sort of related to what the professor had initially written, and he’d be like, “Oh, I totally agree!” And then they’d get in this discussion. It was obviously a game. (February 2011) At the time we spoke, Hannah was nearing the end of her PhD at a North American university and had established a solid reputation for herself.With some satisfaction, she remarked that the bullying students who’d told her to “kiss ass” were no longer working in archaeology at all. The moral she’d taken from this story was that hierarchies and nepotism do not, in fact, have a place in archaeology, and a successful career is best forged through hard work. Later in the same interview, I asked how she’d met the various mentors who’d invited her on their projects or encouraged her graduate applications. In response, she described a series of chance encounters at conference parties or dinners that all led to career-changing invitations. I met some people at a conference.... I don’t know how it happened,but I started talking to someone on the project and they had me over to dinner....We went and ate dinner with the [project] crew, completely casual. Then, from there I went down [to their excavation] because I had this one contact [from the dinner].... They gave me a scholarship, meaning I didn’t really have to pay to come down. (February 2011) When applying to graduate school, Hannah reached out to potential faculty advisors. One could not take her that year, but: Hannah (H):He put [me] in contact with Sam. I came down to visit [Sam’s university].... I had put in my application but they hadn’t done the selection yet. I’m like, “Well, I’m going to be in town,” because I was driving [to that state anyway]. Obviously, it’s not straight passing through. I had to make a detour. I know showing your face makes a big difference. Mary (M):How did you know that showing your face and emailing people beforehand ... ? H: I think that any way that you can set yourself out from the pack helps because, otherwise, I’m sure the majority of applications are all good, or you wouldn’t even be applying to grad school, you wouldn’t have letters of recommendation. It was just an intuition thing. No one ever told me, “You should do this,” but I had the understanding that you shouldn’t apply to grad school unless you have someone who wants to accept you and work with you.... I just figured that if I can make any sort of impression personally, it’s going to help my application because [my GRE scores2] weren’t all that stellar. There’s things that could count against me, you know what I mean? So I figure, you know, do anything you can.We actually went out and we partied all night.We had a great time, I hung out with [Sam] and [another archaeology professor] and they all responded really well to me. M: They took you out drinking? H: We had a great time.... Anyway, I was very fortunate. I think that really made a difference because they only accepted two people that year. I don’t think that I would have gotten in if I hadn’t done that. M: The fact that you’d made the effort to come and met with him made the difference? H: Could be, but I think they had at least a feeling about me. They had had a conversation with me. I really don’t think that I would have gotten in if they hadn’t done that. (February 2011) In this article, I explore subtle forms of inequality that arise when academic communities are conceptualized as friendship-based: built not through explicit hierarchy but through informal forms of sociality that are considered “casual” and “intuitive.” An ability to “fit in” determines who is present in the lab, field, or classroom—who, at themost fundamental and insidious level, is positioned to create knowledge. As Hannah illustrates, and research on “cultural fit” argues (Garth and Sterling 2018; Friedman and Laurison 2019; Rivera 2012), in the United States, this ability to fit in is invariably ascribed to an individual’s personality rather than their gender, race, class, or nationality. Andean archaeology is thus an interesting case study to contrast with sociological studies of fit and meritocracy in middle-class professions; as anthropologists, the members of this professional community are, for the most part, aware of and committed to inclusive, feminist, anticolonial work. When inequalities arise, they do so in subtle, hard-to-pin-down ways. Drawing from theories of gender/class intersectionality in anthropology and science studies, US conceptualizations of meritocracy in academia and higher education, and feminist Jo Freeman’s concept of “the tyranny of structurelessness,” I explore how and why subtle inequalities arise, using a concept I term performative informality. “Performative” emphasizes how informality is a norm remade through each instance of enactment and draws attention to how such enactments are a negotiation of power.When a profession like archaeology is understood to be fun, open, friendly, and meritocratic, an individual’s success depends on inhabiting or enacting that professional community’s specific kind of informality correctly. Performing informality correctly underpins whether people have a “good feeling” about you. Other professional skills—academic grades, publications, and so on—are important, but formal professional opportunities, such as invitations to join excavations or encouragements to apply to graduate school with a particular professor, often stem from informal friendship-based contacts. My goal is to contribute to the current debate in archaeological practice surrounding discrimination and inequality, as exemplified by both the #MeTooSTEM movement and the reaction to Kawa et al.’s (2019) analysis of biased hiring of graduates from “elite” universities, and a broader anthropological conversation about how meritocratic ideology perpetuates and masks class and gender discrimination in the United States. The North American Andean archaeologists I studied performed a Euro-American, middleclass, and male sociality. Women, people of color, people from working-class backgrounds, and foreigners found it harder to “do” this informality correctly.Archaeologists who were comfortable and successful in this community were not consciously excluding others; rather, e