The reasons why Jane was able to start school already able to read better than any other child in her class (and later to become the only one from her high school year to get into university) are explored in the book, as are the reasons why the others were able to do what they did. They gave me an insight into some of the key factors that stand in the way of people’s aspirations. Several common themes emerged.

Firstly, security. The people I interviewed typically grew up in families with low but secure incomes, and with secure housing tenures. One of the people whose story is told in the book, the MP David Lammy, says he had a “solid foundation” but that people who find themselves “moving from one bloody private rented accommodation to the next… living from one benefit cheque or pay cheque to the next, or on a zero-hours contract… that kind of poverty is a disaster for social mobility… It’s a trauma that destroys your ability to focus at school, to construct a relationship”.

Secondly, social mixing. A lot of stories featured ‘posh friends’ who revealed previously-unimagined career opportunities and/or acted as guides to the unwritten protocols of ‘elite’ careers and social circles. As with secure incomes, such mixing is now threatened: the UK is undergoing “growing social class segregation” of our neighbourhoods, social activities and schools. Once separated, different classes are offered different opportunities. For example, Joanne, an aspiring doctor, found her school didn’t teach the subjects she needed to apply for medical school, a barrier she only overcame by travelling three hours a night, four nights a week, to somewhere that did offer those courses.

Then there’s the creeping introduction of ‘toll roads on the route to opportunity’: from unpaid internships to less well-publicised issues such as the higher cost of uniforms and equipment that deter some families from seeking places at higher-performing state schools.

And lastly, the supply of the objects of aspiration. In the post-war decades, large numbers of Brits got better jobs and housing situations than their parents had had, as a result of ambitious, strategic government programmes that created such jobs (e.g. in the expanding public sector) and built homes. Since then, the supply of homes and good jobs has not kept up with demand, and Brexit won’t improve our ability to negotiate trade deals in which the UK specialises in high-value industries with high-quality jobs: people who are known to be desperate for a deal rarely get a good deal.

Insecurity and social segregation are linked to inequality in obvious ways, but so are the ‘toll roads on the route to opportunity’. People in influential positions are usually affluent enough not to be bothered by them, so there is a lack of pressure to keep these costs down. And inequality also affects the limited supply of homes and good jobs (when inequality is high, the privileged are more able to out-bid the rest of us for scarce opportunities).

I’m not arguing that inequality and collective wellbeing are important and individual opportunity is not. I don’t see why the aspirations of individuals should be put on hold until everyone’s aspirations can be met. As someone put it to me, “middle-class people expect working-class people to wait – for socialism or whatever – why should we wait?”. I do think that encouraging individuals from the ‘lower classes’ to join the ‘establishment’ is necessary if the establishment is to understand how to raise the collective wellbeing of everyone else (ladders are best designed by people who know what it’s like to climb one). What I am saying is that — as the quantitative data suggests — neither individual opportunity nor collective wellbeing can be achieved alone. Like any good team, we achieve our individual goals by working together.

The End of Aspiration? Social mobility and our children’s fading prospects was published by Policy Press on 15th May