On the morning of 7 January 2026 I published this article describing The Jobs Foundation's Ladders of Opportunity report as a "nepo baby circlejerk" that uses a handful of polished case studies to argue against stronger employment rights.
A few hours later, the President of the same organisation, sitting in the House of Lords, used LinkedIn to promote a City AM column arguing that the real problem is making it harder to pass family businesses down the generations.
The timing is so on the nose that it reads like live confirmation of the point this piece is making about inherited advantage and who policy is really designed for.
This screenshot is included here so readers can see the wider context for themselves, not as a one off gotcha but as a clear example of how "ladders of opportunity" rhetoric for workers sits alongside advocacy that protects family ownership at the top.
The Jobs Foundation would quite like you to believe that British business is busy building “ladders of opportunity” for people who are out of work, and that the real threat to entry level jobs comes from things like the Employment Rights Act. On the surface, their Ladders of Opportunity landing page and the full Ladders of Opportunity report look impressive, and the design is slick, and there are lots of photos of smiling people in hi-vis.
When you actually read the thing front to back, it does not feel like serious analysis of the UK labour market. It feels like a nepo-baby circlejerk, where well connected people tell each other that business is heroic, welfare is a trap, and that a handful of nice case studies can stand in for reality.
Work good, welfare bad, business heroic
The basic story never really changes. Work is framed as inherently good, and cleansing, and morally superior. Welfare is framed as a “cycle” that people fall into, and long term sickness is mainly described as a cost to the Treasury. You get big numbers about benefits and “lost tax”, and you get touching quotes from individuals, and you do not get much discussion about what the jobs are actually like once people land in them.
The Jobs Foundation itself says it exists to “champion business as a force for good” and to “create a business environment where companies can thrive”. The report reads exactly like that. Business is the hero. Government and welfare are the problem. Workers are material to be shaped into “job ready” units, and their main role in the story is to prove that enlightened employers are on the right track.
Case studies for the lucky few, silence for everyone else
The Ladders of Opportunity report is built around five groups. Young people, long term sick people, ex-offenders and veterans, older workers, and “local” hires. Each chapter uses the same pattern, and it gets very obvious once you see it.
First, there is a short burst of statistics that show the situation is serious. Then there are a couple of personal stories, which are sometimes genuinely moving. After that, the report spends pages talking about a small group of “top UK businesses” that are doing interesting things with apprenticeships, or graduate schemes, or tailored recruitment. Companies like Sage, Accenture, M&S, Timpson, Northumbrian Water and a few others get treated as models that everyone else should copy.
That would be fine if the report then asked how many people actually get near this gold standard. It does not. There is next to nothing about the other end of the market, where apprenticeships are used as bargain labour, where progression is non-existent, and where people are quietly dumped when budgets or managers change. Those programmes exist, and regulators know about them, and people live with the consequences, but they barely register in the narrative.
I am not looking at this from a distance. In 2018 I was made redundant 17 months into an 18 month apprenticeship. There was no job at the end and no certificate, and there was no safety net either. That is not some rare event. Anyone who has spent time around low quality providers or training schemes knows stories like mine are not hard to find.
The report does not sit with any of that, because it would break the mood. It strings together polished case studies and then treats them as proof that the system is basically fine, and that what we really need is more of the same and less regulation in the way.
“Embedded in the community”, with an empty HQ and a harder commute
The Sage example is a good illustration of how selective this all is. The Jobs Foundation talks about Sage as a company that is “embedded in the community”, and it highlights their apprenticeship and graduate schemes as models of “what good looks like” for local young people. There is talk of mentoring, real jobs at the end and work on STEM skills in the North East. On its own, that sounds great, and some people will genuinely benefit.
At the same time, Sage’s purpose built headquarters at Newcastle Great Park – a site that was designed and built specifically for them – has been sitting empty since 2021. The company moved its main Newcastle operation into Cobalt Business Park. Cobalt is a huge, car heavy business park environment. It suits senior staff who drive, and it suits people who live nearby, and it suits a certain style of corporate lifestyle. For a lot of low paid starters and apprentices, who live elsewhere and who now have to cross the river or pay Tyne Tunnel tolls just to get to work, it is more expensive and more awkward.
There may be sensible commercial reasons for that move. The point is that the brochure language about being “embedded in the community” does not really match the physical reality on the ground, especially for the people at the bottom of the ladder. When a flagship HQ sits empty and staff are funnelled into a generic business park bubble, it raises questions about who opportunity is actually designed for.
AI will erase jobs, but somehow rights get the blame
The technology section is quietly revealing. The report openly admits that AI and other technology will make some jobs, and even whole sectors, redundant. It accepts that this will mean fewer jobs in some places, and that nobody really knows how many human roles are going to disappear.
You might expect that admission to lead into a serious look at how automation is already hitting entry level roles and routine work. Instead, the authors slide straight into upbeat language about how AI could also help businesses spot “hidden talent”, tailor support for neurodivergent people, and design clever new assessments. The risk gets acknowledged in one breath then parked. The excitement about new tools gets pages.
When the same network talks about the Employment Rights Act, you do not hear much about AI. You hear warnings that stronger rights will “cost jobs”. That is a very odd pivot, given their own report says AI and automation will cut roles even if nobody touches employment law. The pressure on entry level work is coming from automation and from the way employers design schemes on the ground, and not from workers getting basic protections like sick pay or predictable hours.
Long term sick people turned into a spreadsheet line
The chapter on long term sickness is probably the hardest to read if you are disabled or ill. There are real individuals quoted, and some genuinely want a way back into decent work, and that deserves respect. However, the framing is almost entirely fiscal. Long term sick people are mostly presented as a cost to the state and as a missed opportunity for employers, and they are not really treated as citizens with rights and limits.
You see figures about benefit spending and about lost tax receipts. You see concerns about the number of people who have left the labour market since Covid. You do not see much analysis of why so many workplaces are toxic, or why bad management and poor accommodations are driving people into burnout, or why assessments and sanctions are wrecking people’s stability. All of that lives under the surface, and it never quite makes it onto the page.
Instead, long term sick people are recast as an “untapped resource” that better employers could draw on with the right “innovations”. Once again, business is the main character. The sick person’s job is to fit a new model, and the state’s job is to nudge them along. The deeper questions about why so many people broke in the first place are politely ignored.
“Unique groups” as a talent pool, not as people who can say no
Ex-offenders, veterans and people who have been homeless get grouped into a single category called “unique groups”. The report does at least acknowledge that work outcomes for these groups are dire. It notes that only a minority of people leaving prison are in employment six months later, and it repeats the obvious point that stable work can reduce reoffending.
Then the same thing happens again. The hardship is acknowledged, and a handful of good organisations are showcased, and the narrative moves quickly to the idea that these groups are a “valuable resource” that employers can tap into with the right attitude. They become a talent pool and a business opportunity. They are not treated as people who might legitimately refuse bad deals or challenge abusive practice.
There is nothing on retaliation when someone complains about a provider. There is nothing on charities that mishandle data or run on fear. There is nothing on employers who take the funding and the credit, then quietly drop people when things get messy. People who have already been failed by the system end up being used as branding material for another wave of “innovative” corporate schemes, and the report treats that as progress.
Remote work and tax – the usual gripes
When the report finally turns to “employment best practice”, you get the usual management takes. Working from home is described as risky for culture and risky for young workers, so more days in the office are nudged as the sensible path. Jobs that can be done from home are treated as vulnerable to offshoring, so remote work becomes something that needs to be contained.
Employer National Insurance, on the other hand, is described as a burden that discourages hiring. The idea that companies might simply pay their share for the public infrastructure that lets them exist does not really land. There is very little about basic enforcement, or unions, or worker voice. Culture is what leaders decide it is, and costs are what policymakers should cut for them.
If you want to talk about ladders, show the whole staircase
None of this is an argument against good employers. Some of the schemes in the report clearly have real people behind them who actually care. Some apprenticeships and supported employment routes do work. They deserve credit, and they deserve funding.
The problem is the way those rare examples are used. The Jobs Foundation takes a handful of good stories, spins them into a glossy narrative about “ladders of opportunity”, and then uses that narrative to push back against stronger employment rights and against any policy that might challenge business as the main decision maker. The bad apprenticeships, the empty HQs, the hostile providers, the people who were chewed up and spat out – none of that makes it into the picture.
If organisations like this want to shape the debate on work, welfare and the Employment Rights Act, they should at least be willing to publish hard data on apprenticeship quality, completion, progression into permanent roles and pay. They should be open about failure rates and complaint volumes, not just success stories. They should be honest about what automation is doing to headcount, and they should be willing to talk about power, not just “opportunity”.
Until then, reports like Ladders of Opportunity will keep circulating on LinkedIn as if they are neutral research. In reality, they are carefully curated PR for a small club of employers and commentators who are very pleased with one another, and who rarely have to live with the fallout from the policies they promote.
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