Modern Britain is a necro-inheritocracy – it’s a macabre way to ensure financial security
I was talking to a comedian about the housing crisis the other day. I know, it sounds like the set-up to the world’s most depressing punchline, but comedy is sometimes the only rational response to what feels like one of the country’s most pressing and intractable problems: how can anyone in Britain afford somewhere to live?
Increasingly, the answer looks to be down to whether your parents can throw some money at the issue – of which there is a not insignificant amount coming down the pipeline.
The Sunday Times describes British baby boomers as “the richest generation there has ever been”, with around a quarter owning £1m in assets. Those now in their 60s to 80s are set to pass on £5.5trn to their children and grandchildren in the next few decades, which business writer Ken Costa calls “the largest flow of generational capital ever seen in the history of humanity”.
The boomers in question aren’t all titled aristocracy or posh landowners. Many of them will be solidly middle-class types who have benefited from free university education and defined pension and benefit plans and hopped on the property ladder before prices skyrocketed.
Think about it, my stand-up friend argued, everyone assumes that you’re all set if mum and dad’s modest Right to Buy terrace house in the ‘burbs is eventually coming down the line to you, but what happens if dear old Ma and Pa hang around for longer than you think?
They might need to remortgage the place to pay for social care fees or private medical bills. What if your siblings start squabbling over the inheritance like crabs in a bucket? That jackpot might get tied up in legal proceedings and necessitate the intervention of costly lawyers.
Or, what if your parents decide to blow the budget on a round-the-world Saga cruise? They might even get a bit too inspired by Babygirl, and divorce and remarry a younger partner with a taste for the high life. “It’s like Succession,” the comic told me, “with tiny inherited houses.”
Just kidding – sort of. For many people of my generation, it’s considered déclassé to even mention the fact that you might come into some family cash. But given that an additional half of British boomers own more than £500,000 in assets, there are a lot more millennials who stand to receive a windfall than you might think.
Some of you may have already spotted the beginnings of this great wealth trickle-down: friends who can afford to stay in the notoriously low-paid creative industries or pursue artistic passions without worrying about rent; new homeowners who can suddenly afford the deposit on flats way above their pay grade; parents who can afford kids because grandpa and grandma are shelling out for costly fertility treatment, childcare costs or even family holidays.
According to a survey from Saltus, a wealth management firm, nine out of 10 older respondents with more than £250,000 in assets are now stumping up financial assistance for their adult children and grandchildren, even when it comes to less big-ticket expenses such as energy bills and university fees.
Obviously, this is all well and good if one’s generous parents have liquid assets – that fungible form of largesse that can be easily converted into cold hard cash. But if your parents’ wealth is tied up in property, you’re essentially hoping for them to downsize and sell up while they’re alive, or shuffle off this mortal coil – a somewhat macabre state of affairs that no child should have to contemplate.
Modern Britain has been dubbed an inheritocracy by scholars like Eliza Filby – a place where merit and hard work no longer applies as long as you have the safety of a parental net. You might as well call it a necro-inheritocracy. While working on her book on the subject, Filby interviewed a woman whose parents and parents-in-law are now in their 70s: “In 10 years’ time, we’re going to have more money than we know what to do with. It’s morbid, but it’s true.”
It’s easy to shake our fists at the hypothetical Richie Rich who will inherit a Notting Hill townhouse when their evil baronet father dies. But what happens if you’re the one trying to figure out if your parents will throw some cash your way before they pass on, or how much you’ll stand to gain if they suddenly drop dead?
It’s ghoulish, I know – but it just goes to demonstrate how economically precarious life in the UK has become. As my comedian friend bleakly puts it, we’re a generation dependent on another dying out just to feel a little more financially stable.
Zing Tsjeng is a journalist, non-fiction author, and podcaster