In this week’s edition:

• The data behind the Inheritocracy

• Do two-thirds of Gen Z really want to be their own boss?

• Why workplaces need to talk about class

When I wrote last week’s newsletter, I didn’t expect it to strike such a chord. But it clearly hit home. Nearly a million readers read it, thousands shared it, and hundreds replied; admittedly, some with fury, some with relief, many with their own stories, and plenty with thoughtful suggestions about how we could rethink and reimagine Alistair and Ben’s story.

If you missed it and have no idea what I’m going on about, you can catch up here.

I think it resonated because so many of us, especially millennials and Gen Z, are searching for a narrative that actually makes sense of the last twenty years. Inheritocracy isn’t about victimhood, and it’s certainly not about blame. It’s a way of understanding how the modern economy is really working underneath the surface noise.

So much of what I’m trying to do in this space (and in the book) is peel back the layers. To call out the bullshit around ‘meritocracy’ and ‘hustle culture’ and look clearly at what’s happened to adulthood over the last two decades. And more importantly, what we might do about it as individuals, families, friends, and as a society.

A lot of you really responded to Alistair and Ben’s story, not just because it felt real, but because it reflected something many of us have seen in our own lives: how friendships, as well as families, are now shaped and sometimes strained by the inheritocracy.

There were brilliant suggestions shared over on Instagram about how we could have modelled the scenario differently. What if they both had kids? What if one invested in stocks instead of property?

Our brilliant Head of Data, Maria, is on it, and we’ll share new models soon.

One of the most thought-provoking comments asked:

“Are Alistair and Ben still even friends in their forties given this disparity?”

The optimist in me wants to say yes. I picture them downing Jaegerbombs together on a rare night off from mid-life responsibilities. But we know interclass friendships have been in long-term decline over the last thirty years. And I read that 88 percent of millennials have taken on debt when spending time with a wealthier friend. It also reminded me of an interview I did with one woman in the book who bluntly stated:

“I’m fortunate to not have extremely wealthy friends. My friends are all teachers or work for the NHS. If we had friends who were all parent bootstrapped, I’d find it annoying.”

I’m actually filming a video on this subject right now because the intersection of money and friendship feels like one of the more quietly corrosive forces of our time, something we rarely talk about but so many of us feel.

But this week, I want to reflect on the broader context behind Ben and Alistair’s story.

People often tell me that young people today have it easier than previous generations. There are certainly upsides. We don’t face the same levels of overt discrimination, mass unemployment, or industrial decline. Tech has enabled a lot. Travel and education have opened up the world.

So we need to be specific about what has changed. The truth of the last two decades isn’t strictly about collapsing opportunity (although certainly for some); but for many, it’s also one of misaligned expectation. Let me explain.

The Promise: Growing up in the 90s, we were handed a script, one that told us to study hard, get a degree, build a career, save diligently, and one day own a home and start a family. That script still exists, but for the majority who reach these heights, it now requires something unsaid, and Alistair obviously had: support from your parents.

The story of our generation is not one of total failure or complete decline. It’s the story of a shifting economic model from the 1980s and a new one that’s been in operation, but in denial for a long time: one in which assets became harder to access through wages alone, and family wealth and support have quietly stepped in to fill the gap.

1. Education is no longer the golden ticket

Let’s start with the graduate premium - that is, the extra earnings a university graduate can expect compared to someone without a degree. That premium has been declining since millennials first started entering university (it dropped rapidly at the time when Ben and Alistair graduated). At the same time, tuition fees increased and maintenance grants were scrapped. In other words, the value of the degree has gone down just as the cost of getting it has gone up.

It’s still true that having a degree is better than not having one, but the return on that investment is shrinking. In fact, since 2016, non-graduate wages have been growing faster than graduate wages. And the postgraduate premium has also declined, even as more young people pursue master’s degrees in the hope of getting ahead.

Meanwhile, student debt has become a defining feature of adult life for two entire generations. At a time when AI is reshaping job markets and up-skilling is no longer optional but essential, we’ve left an entire generation under-qualified for what’s next and overcharged for what’s past.

2. Assets increased; wages did not

If anyone brings up the “too much avocado on toast” theory again, flash them this graph.

What’s changed in the last thirty years isn’t just the price of a house; it’s the relationship between wages and property. Since the 1990s, but especially since 2008, house prices have surged while wages have stagnated. When mortgage affordability is measured against income, the gap becomes impossible to ignore. For many, getting on the housing ladder through wages alone is no longer realistic.

So, who’s been bridging that gap?

First, the rise of dual-income households, particularly the increase in full-time working mothers. That’s done a lot of the economic heavy lifting.

Second, it’s increasingly been the Bank of Mum and Dad.

We tend to focus on the initial deposit, like the one Alistair received. But that’s just one part of the story. The Bank of Mum and Dad offers a full portfolio of support products: from rent guarantors to rent payers, from parents acting as landlords to outright mortgage payers. Some parents release equity. Others take on debt. Many endure financial hardship or delay retirement, all to help their adult children enter the housing market or remain housed.

3. Homeownership has declined as a result

This chart captures the rise and fall of the property-owning democracy, the Thatcher-era dream that homeownership was not just a financial asset but a democratic right. And for one generation, it was. Homeownership rose steadily through the 1980s and 1990s, boosted by the sale of council housing and a cultural shift that treated property as the cornerstone of personal freedom and an ‘investment’. But it was a one-off. A moment of mass access that wasn’t replicated. You know the story. We didn’t build enough new homes. We didn’t replace the social housing stock that was sold off. And for the next generation, the promise was articulated even as the economics underpinning this idea collapsed after 2008. And mum and dad stepped in if they could. That’s where the real frustration lies, not just in how expensive it is to do, but in being held to a standard that’s no longer accessible in the same way.

4. BOMAD equals access

This really speaks for itself: Ben and Alistair on opposite sides of this pie chart. This also doesn’t show that they were years apart when each was able to get on the ladder. A majority of first-time buyers under 35 now receive financial help from their parents. It’s one of the clearest illustrations of how the housing market has become intergenerational. That said, it’s important not to overstate the power of the Bank of Mum and Dad. There are still paths to financial independence, especially outside the South East, as I explore in the book, but those routes are narrowing. The mortgage crisis, the cost of living crunch and, more recently, a budget that encouraged even greater wealth transfer from parents to children, have all tilted the balance further. Support is becoming the norm, not the exception. And for those without it, the gap keeps growing.

5. This ISN’T just a story about housing

As millennials and Gen Z came of age, a strange shift happened. Certain things got cheaper: travel, eating out, tech. All those lattes and smashed avo’ weren’t just lifestyle choices; they were available and cheap. Experiences became affordable. Assets didn’t.

Because at the same time, the big-ticket items in life — housing, education, childcare — became eye-wateringly expensive compared to wages. And when those costs became impossible to manage on your own, where did people turn?

You know.

Ben had it. Alistair didn’t.

That’s the thing about the Bank of Mum and Dad. It doesn’t just show up for a house deposit. It’s covering nursery fees, rent top-ups, student loan repayments, and energy bills. It’s shaping lives. Not in every case, but in enough of them to redefine what financial independence actually looks like now.

We need to talk about the Bank of Mum and Dad and build an economy where inheritance matters less.

US .v. UK Inheritocracy

I was interviewed by Newsweek yesterday for a feature on my work, and I was asked about the potential comparisons and contrasts between US/UK when it comes to the Bank of Mum and Dad.

In the UK, inheritocracy tends to be unspoken and quietly resented. In the US, building generational wealth is more openly acknowledged and even celebrated. It reflects deeper differences in class structures, housing markets, and a lingering belief in the American Dream — that success is still possible with enough drive. At the same time, there’s growing unease about how much inheritance and dynasty shape American life, from college admissions to politics and beyond.

The economics are different, too. In the US, college fees are significantly higher, but the inheritance tax in the UK means there’s less intergenerational financial planning in some areas and more in others.

Ahead of my US tour this autumn, we’re doing a deep dive into the data around adulthood, family money and the modern American version of the Bank of Mum and Dad. More soon.

The Rise of the Solopreneur Generation — and Its Limits

According to a recent AMEX poll, 67% of Gen Z workers say they want to own or lead a business. Really? We’re also seeing increasing numbers of Gen Z not wanting to manage others. They want autonomy, not admin, or responsibility for others.

I find myself questioning this. What does owning a business mean to this generation? Are they in fact talking about solo-preneurship rather than entrepreneurship? Two completely different things. Do they want scale, or do you just want freedom?

Because to really maximise your value, you will need a team even in an AI-enabled world. Not a corporate hierarchy, but a smart, lean support structure. Something I’ve been learning recently.

The Gen Z dream may be to work for yourself, but the real opportunity lies in knowing when to stop working alone and hire people.

Let’s Talk Class

Over the past few months, I’ve been quietly working on a major research project exploring class, social mobility and the modern workplace, and I’m finally ready to share it.

This work draws on original data, dozens of interviews, and a deep dive into what companies in the UK and around the world are doing to widen access and build more inclusive organisations. It has become increasingly clear to me that class is still the missing conversation in many corporate spaces. And yet, it’s the one that so many employees (especially younger ones) are desperate to have.

We’ve crunched the numbers, and we’re now offering sector-specific insights that reveal what declining social mobility really looks like across different industries — from law and finance to media and professional services. Crucially, this isn’t just about class in isolation. The project explores the intersection of class with race, gender, region and family wealth, showing how these overlapping factors shape who gets in, who thrives, and who gets left out.

We are hosting private events rolling out this data over the next months to specific sectors, and I shall also be sharing the content on LinkedIn and other platforms. But also, if this is something your business is interested in - from measuring class pay gaps in entirely new ways, to redesigning DEI strategies that confront the full picture of socioeconomic inequality - do get in contact with my team.

Block filming videos on everything from quiet luxury to the graduate premium. Head over to Instagram if you want long, exhaustive explainers and bloopers from me.

Thanks for reading,

Eliza