SELF-STYLED “academic nomad” Hadas Weiss's first book explores culture in Germany and Israel by studying communities in-depth and over extended periods.

[[{"fid":"16969","view_mode":"inlineright","fields":{"format":"inlineright","field_file_image_alt_text[und][0][value]":false,"field_file_image_title_text[und][0][value]":false},"link_text":null,"type":"media","field_deltas":{"1":{"format":"inlineright","field_file_image_alt_text[und][0][value]":false,"field_file_image_title_text[und][0][value]":false}},"attributes":{"class":"media-element file-inlineright","data-delta":"1"}}]]An anthropologist living in Spain, she uses literature review, formal ethnographic research and informal observation based on personal experience to explore the relevance and influence of the term “middle class” and her book is a scholarly but accessible exploration of a pervasive and damaging myth.

It opens with the unsettling suggestion that “middle class” is an ideology rather than a genuine identity within the capitalist class system. This, says Weiss, is why we struggle to develop a clear definition.

There is little agreement on the criteria for membership – should we consider occupation, educational attainment, income or consumer behaviour? Or all of them?

Weiss’s exploration of the links between middle-class ideology, aspiration, the illusion of self-determinism and the grim realities of global finance suggests that we are being played by a system that diminishes social and political solidarity.

We are persuaded to identify not as workers but as investors in property and human capital, which fosters an upbeat rhetoric about self-improvement and distracts us from the diminishing rewards and increasing uncertainties of global capitalism.

The author compares our obsession with property to the dogged determination of the diners in Luis Bunuel’s film The Discrete Charm of the Bourgeoisie, a group hell-bent on enjoying a fine dining experience despite a series of increasingly bizarre interruptions.

Such use of anecdote, metaphor and personal reflection enhances our understanding of the book’s rigorously presented and thoroughly annotated arguments.

In her examination of the notion of human capital, Weiss acknowledges that families sacrifice time and money to provide their children with skills, education and social connections but she sees this as a futile distortion of our closest relationships.

Such attempts to ensure that our children prosper in a competitive, post-welfare economy are doomed because a system that must produce surplus at all costs is one that necessarily drives down the value of human capital.

The book’s exploration of the relationship between property investment and class suggests we are losing faith in the ability of property to shield us from the hazards of global capitalism and Weiss argues that belief in the protective power of pensions, insurance policies and mortgage equity is a spectacular form of self-deception that prevents us from transforming our institutions.

When the illusion is shattered, we will be able to relinquish the notion of a self-reliant middle class, create social structures that meet our needs and use our abilities for the collective good.

We Have Never Been Middle Class is published by Verso, £14.99.