Does parental responsibility ever end? Until our children reach their 16th birthday, our legal rights and responsibilities are comprehensive. For at least the next two years our role, according to a Scottish Government website, is to "advise and guide". This can carry on until they are 25 if they remain in education or training. After that they are officially grown up.

But all parents know age guides are a joke. We continue to be a weather vane for our progeny’s welfare through their 20s and 30s – and beyond.

I know I still talk about "the children" though ours are in their 30s. My husband replies: "You mean ‘the grown-ups’." He’s right of course. By the time we were their age, they were at school.

So do parents ever see their sons and daughters as fellow adults or is the umbilical pull permanent? And if so, how far does parental obligation really stretch once they’re grown-up?

I ask because the broadcaster Robert Peston is calling on our generation to cash in our family homes to release capital with which to help our children to buy their own. The former BBC’s economics editor, who is the new ITV political editor, was speaking at the Cheltenham Literature Festival.

So is he right? Should we all sell up?

Is Peston’s message addressed to the few who share his exalted status: a large London house and a £400,000 salary? Or do we all need to be thinking of divvying up family assets even if they are considerably more modest? Is it our duty to share now or should the next generation have to wait until we pop our clogs before they inherit?

It’s what tradition dictates but then traditionally each generation is better off that the one that went before. As Peston points out, our generation had it all and then "f***** up the economy" for those coming after. There are sombre warnings about them having a lower standard of living whilst also having to work much longer before receiving a pension.

Furthermore, if we do live as long as is now predicted won’t we be spending those same family assets in care-home fees? Who dares give them away now if the consequence is to cast our very old age to the mercy of a state shaped by George Osborne? I have visions of an older me scavenging on a rubbish tip.

I see the justice of Peston’s argument when he says: "We’ve got to – on a personal level – move out of our big houses and somehow create the equity to pass on to the next generation."

But I feel the way I do when I hear friends say they have volunteered to house a family of refugees. It is saintly. I’m in awe of their goodness. I applaud their strength of character and generosity of spirit. But there is no way I want to join them.

Similarly, I will share a roof with my adult children if they have a crisis or they need a career break. All they have to do is arrive on the doorstep and I’ll welcome them in. But I wouldn’t be at all amenable to selling that roof so they can have a smaller one of their own.

It may sound like an excuse but I’ve always put an importance on the geography of home. In an increasingly uncertain world, I think it’s reassuring to have a fixed point to which all family members can return; to reconnect with a sense of longevity and long-held memories. It offers a secure base and a sense of continuity. These are valuable commodities and worth holding on to if at all possible.

Just yesterday came a reminder when a school friend of my daughter’s rang the doorbell. She lives abroad. It was 20 years since she’d last visited.

Parental fixity is no substitute for children owning a roof of their own. But, I also wonder, should parents provide one, turn their own lives upside down or just offer what help they can? Isn’t the challenge of getting that roof a rite of passage? If everything is handed to a young person, can he or she ever grow up? When does good fortune become infantilising?

Then again, when does a steep uphill financial struggle, which is too often today’s property market (especially in the south of England), become soul destroying?

It was so much easier for my generation. Our first house cost twice our joint annual salary. Our children are viewing modest flats at 10 times theirs.

The age group 20-39 is already dubbed "generation rent". It is predicted that more than half of them will be renting by 2025. Across the UK there’s been a 130 per cent rise in people renting since 2001 to 5.4 million households. It’s expected to rise further to 7.2 million by 2025. Although 60 per cent of those in private rented accommodation say they intend to buy, the median renter has managed to save only one-twentieth of the required deposit.

They face a triple whammy of stringent credit conditions, rising lender deposits and affordability.

I can see that the bank of mum and dad should play its part in contributing whatever is possible towards a deposit. But I can see the disadvantages of doing more.

The world is constantly changing. Will property ownership always be the best option? In parts of Europe where the the property market is flat there is no point in ownership. Bricks and mortar tie money up and offer little or no return. Renting is the norm. It is affordable. Legislative protections for tenants are good, so why not?

Renting has further advantages. Costs are more predictable. There are no nasty surprises such as roof repairs or broken boilers. There isn’t a mortgage to default on if a contract ends or redundancy strikes.

Renting suits people whose careers are international. If job opportunities arise in other countries it can make sense to keep a light foot print; to be free to migrate at short notice without the need to sell a home.

But even as I write I’m wondering if any of it amounts to more than a row of beans compared to the reassurance of owning the roof over your own head; not just the reassurance either. There’s a sense of independence that goes with ownership and of property being an asset that might get you out of a hole later on in life. So yes, if I win the lottery I will buy my kids a house. But I won’t sell up for them.

Besides, who says that money is the only valuable asset, or the most important asset, a parent can give a grown-up child? I think it’s just as important to be always there in the background, available when needed. I think that remaining independent for as long as possible so that the next generation can live their lives free of the burden of responsibility is also a gift.

That’s worth a lot, too.