You know the Bank of Mum and Dad when you see it: it’s your friend who seems broke, but always has a safety net, or who suddenly (but discreetly) acquires the deposit for a home. It’s those who stayed with their parents while they saved for a flat, or stuck it out in a profession they were passionate about even though the wages are chronically low. It’s those who do not need to consider the financial costs of having children. It’s those whose grandparents are covering nursery or university fees, with the Bank of Grandma and Grandad already driving an economic wedge between different cohorts in generations Alpha (born between 2010 and 2024) and Z (born in the late 1990s and early 2000s).
This is the picture we know, but the Bank of Mum and Dad is not just a luxury confined to the 1% – it is also evident in families like mine. I grew up in a working-class household and was the first person in my family to get a degree, but it was the fact my parents had scrimped in the 1980s to purchase properties in London (and allowed me to crash in one throughout my 20s) that has arguably been the true source of opportunities in my life.
In recent years, we have rightly widened the conversation about privilege in society. And yet how honest are we about one of the most obvious forces shaping anyone under 45: the presence or absence of a parental safety net? The truth is that we live in an inheritocracy. If you’ve grown up in the 21st century, your opportunities are increasingly determined by your access to the Bank of Mum and Dad, rather than by what you earn or learn. The economic roots of this story go back to the 1980s, but it accelerated after the 2008 financial crisis, as private wealth soared and wage growth stalled. In the 2020s, rather than a meritocracy – where hard work pays off – we have evolved into an inheritocracy, based on family wealth.
I bought my first home half with money I’d saved by working, and half with some money I inherited from my grandparents. I was also able to buy with only 10% down because it was 2005, leading up to the sub-prime mortgage scandal, and they were giving out mortgages very easily.
Fast forward some years.
I reluctantly rented my place out for a couple of years because I needed to move myself and the mortgage was underwater following the 2006 crash caused by all those sub prime mortgages. I rented to a nice couple and although I gave them a very attractive rent and treated them as well as possible, there was no question that their rent money got me through that housing crisis and eventually allowed me to sell at a significant profit instead of losing my ass.
When I sold, I offered my renters a deal to move out. They took it, and said that they were buying their own place as they had inherited a small amount recently.
For me this was a perfect example of how, just because my grandparents died a few years before theirs, I was their landlord and not the other way around. I got protection for my investment on their dollar. And once they too got the benefit of inheritance, they were able to graduate to the next level themselves.
Years later I’ve remained a homeowner and am sitting on multiple millions in equity from all the appreciation during that time. My remaining mortgage payments are about 1/3 of what it would cost to rent the same home. My wife’s younger siblings, by contrast, can’t even afford to buy under any circumstances because the market is so high. And of course lending standards are much more strict now.
For me this is a perfect example of generational advantage. Here I am sitting pretty just because I’m 10 years older than them, while they have to move out of state just to get a start.
Anyone who thinks this is a fair and equal opportunity economy is a damn fool. As long as you are competing against people who have advantages you don’t, it doesn’t matter whether your theoretical opportunities are equal. You’re going to lose and wind up in servitude of those who won.