No one enjoys bringing up the topic of inheritance with their parents. Discussing money is bad enough. Toss in a reminder of someone’s impending expiration date and the result is a situation that’s both distasteful and uncomfortable. However, this affluent elephant in the room is one which cannot be ignored. Yet judging by the rather reckless spending activities of boomers these days, it seems that’s exactly what’s going on.
There’s something deeply disheartening about the severance of parental wealth from the success and security of their offspring
If you’re over 65, it’s highly likely that you are a ‘SKI-er’. No, not someone who plummets drunkenly down the French Alps (though you probably do this too). Instead, ‘SKI-ers’ are a growing community of Brits who love nothing more than ‘spending the kids’ inheritance’. As a 25-year-old speaking for all the ‘kids’ out there, I can say we’re not at all pleased.
News of our hedonistic elders came from a survey of more than 2,000 adults conducted this year by ABTA, the UK travel trade association. It found that 82 per cent of the over-65s had been on holiday in the past 12 months, a 5 per cent increase from two years ago. The number of over-65s going abroad in the past year had increased by 9 per cent over the same period. Speaking to The Times, Mark Tanzer, the chief executive of ABTA, suggested this trend is likely due to a desire to spend what would have been their child’s inheritance – the pot of gold previously destined for us youngsters.
Without sounding too much like the boring adult in this relationship, I have to ask: has this new breed of jet-setting elders properly considered the consequences of their actions? If so, what does this say about our relationships? Do they care less about our future stability than previous generations did about that of their children? Or has hyper-individualism and overconsumption simply superseded old traditions of responsibility and familial duties?
Don’t get me wrong, I want my parents and grandparents to live long and happy lives. I accept that they have every right to revel in the wealth that they’ve accumulated. But I can’t escape the feeling that there’s something deeply disheartening and altogether concerning about the severance of parental wealth from the success and security of their offspring. Because while financially benefiting from the loss of a loved one is undoubtedly morbid, there remains something admirable about reserving wealth for the next generation (who, I might add, need it a lot more).
It is no longer the case that every generation is better off than the last. Things are getting a lot worse. Our job market is laughable. Youth unemployment is now at 16.4 per cent, up from 14.3 per cent a year ago. Almost a million 16–24-year-olds are not in education, employment or training, a figure set only to rise.
Then there’s the housing crisis and staggering rent prices to grapple with. The average home costs nine times the average income (it was only four in the 1970s). In the 1980s, homeownership at 25 was 43 per cent; today, it’s a shocking 15 per cent. Toss in our mounting student debt, fears of political instability, climate change and the AI takeover, and you can see why our mental health is deteriorating.
We’re not all on this same sinking ship. Finance divides my generation, doing so in a way that translates straight into our social lives, fostering opportunity and optimism for some while inhibiting it for others. While income remains a contributing factor, it’s pocket money, not paycheques, that dictates where one sits on the divide. Many of us are navigating a world where amassing personal wealth is close to impossible, all while the over-65s sit on net property wealth of more than £2.5 trillion. Our inheritance really could be the difference between a life doomed to renting and one secured by homeownership.
But this isn’t just about us; it’s about parents too. For example, I can assure you we will be far more likely to provide you with weddings, grandchildren and all the joys that follow if you could just guarantee us some hope for our future financial stability (and much more likely not to ship you off to the cheapest old people’s home the second you forget the King’s name).
And don’t you feel your final years would be better spent at home near family, rather than sunning it up on the beaches of Saint-Tropez? No holiday is more important than spending time with your children. Let’s not forget, either, what portion of your wealth was inherited. Still not convinced? How about trying to imagine the level of guilt you’ll be feeling while on the cusp of finally kicking the metaphorical bucket, knowing you’re leaving us behind both emotionally and financially broke, with nothing but a magnet from the Maldives to keep us warm at night.
There is a chance that this is less about avoiding giving us your money and a lot more about avoiding giving it to the taxman instead. But if that is the case, then I have the perfect solution. Gift us your assets now, open the doors permanently to the ‘Bank of Mum and Dad’ and take pleasure in evading whatever percentage of your wealth the government was hoping to get its hands on.
What will I offer in return for such generosity? How about this: I promise to do the same for your grandchildren – and I’ll take you on holiday.
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