Is it the fault of the social scientist

Listening to 702 (South African radio) this morning took my mind back to the days I lived in Johannesburg. Gillooly's  Interchange and Corlett Drive were chocker block with traffic as people struggled to get into work. 
The temperature was 25 degrees rising to 29, with showers forecast for late afternoon.

 The bell had rung at St Johns and the smartly dressed, well disciplined pupils were filing into class as the Moms and Dads turned their Mercs and Audi's  around from the school gate to descend from the Houghton Ridge down into Houghton  proper, streets lined with vibrant blue/purple flowered Jacaranda trees and huge gated properties, the lazy swish of sprinklers and gardeners already busy with the weeds, madam on her second cup of coffee planning for lunch in Rosebank.
Time stands still as the announcer sets the scene, a scene I was party to all those years ago. The ease of life for the fortunate has cast them in aspic as their days unfold to a formula which is both exclusive and pampered, just as it was 30 years ago. To those who now live in countries scattered across the globe it was a miracle that they once were lucky enough to have experienced it at all. The life and the weather, the disposable income and the sense of ownership and entitlement were all constituent parts of a bubble that had to burst but which, whilst in place was immensely satisfying.
In their new countries Australia, New Zealand, the U.K., Canada and the USA all seems a little more plebeian, a little more pressurised working as we do amongst the other ants who also struggle to survive but we at least remember the modern work space and the camaraderie  that the colour of our skin afforded us. The sense that work was a minor inconvenience before returning home, to dive in the pool and light the braai.
Sitting under Brexit leadened sky's, the early morning sunshine and the sense that individually we had some importance, that our decisions counted seems so far away.
We are of course living in a much more complex society, a society which prides itself in being as close to a chameleon as possible. No Black and White simplicity but a range of conflicting hues and bewildering ethnicity. Continually discovering new modes of analysis to describe the on going enlargement of the human condition, mental and physical each prescribed as a legal entity and each with an accompanying set of rights.
Was it a dream or was it the reality of a simpler time when 'might was right' and we had the presumption of innocence on our side because the social scientist had yet to spread their wings.