Hilary Mantel, an English author, who has won Booker Prize twice for her historical fiction novels Wolf Hall and Bring Up the Bodies and appointed Dame Commander of the Order of the British Empire (DBE) earlier this year, caused a media storm last week.

The Guardian published her story The Assassination of Margaret Thatcher: August 6th 1983, previewing Mantel’s collection of short stories, published today. The story is fictional, but it is set in Mantel’s flat in Windsor, situated behind a private hospital, where the former British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher had an eye operation in 1983. In an interview to The Guardian, Mantel admitted to feeling “boiling detestation" for Thatcher. Some condemned the author for her work and the views she expressed. 

What are we to make of it? Is it “bad taste” to fantasise about the assassination of someone already dead? Is it ignorant to view a historic political figure in black-and-white? Or is criticising fiction for its content akin to censorship?

I will be honest with you. When I first came across this media story, I furrowed my brow at Mantel. Thatcher died just a year ago, and I am in favour of de mortuis nihil nidi bonus - let’s not speak ill of the dead. I’d like to think that The Telegraph, which decided against the publication of the story, had followed the similar reasoning, but in all likelihood, the editors simply feared antagonising The Telegraph readers. 

On Sunday I read the story. It is a very well written work of fiction with Mantel’s effortless imagery and masterful storytelling. It is daring as Mantel describes the captive woman sharing the assassin’s sentiment and offering to trade places with him: “You go and make the tea and I’ll sit here and mind the gun.” The story's plot seems to me one-dimensional and lacking in depth, but it’s compelling enough. It is a very good story. 

It is with this in mind, that I ask myself again: “Is it fair to criticise the artist for her choice of muse?” I think not. Mantel refers to Thatcher as “the very stuff of drama” and “a fantastic character”. Damian Barr has put it well: “It’s a horror story for Thatcher’s fans, a wish-fulfillment fantasy for her detractors. Either way, it’s shocking.” Isn’t it what we want from art?

Instead of condemning Mantel, I am now inclined to applaud her. I do not share her views on Margaret Thatcher but I admire her for her courage and determination to challenge herself and her audience. “As a writer you have a choice to make - are you going to accept censorship or not?” Perhaps it helps to have a couple of Bookers already standing on your mantelpiece, but equally, accolades may have a taming effect. Not for Mantel: “I believe in walking that line. You mustn’t be too timid to risk getting it wrong."

Have you ever wondered why is it that nouveau riche from China and other rapidly growing economies are so obsessed by designer brands? 
According to a report by Bain, quoted in The Economist blog, the number of luxury consumers has more than tripled in under 20 years, to around 330 million people in 2013. Spending has risen at a similar rate, to an estimated €217 billion ($300 billion). Around 130 million of these consumers are in emerging markets, with 50 million of those in China. 

Microeconomics, which simplifies and models social behaviour, has the answer at hand. In economics when demand for a product rises by a greater proportion than income, such good is referred to as a luxury good. A Louis Vuitton bag, a pair of Jimmy Choo shoes, dinner in a Michelin-star restaurant are luxury goods. (By contrast, if demand for a product changes less than proportionately to income, such a product is a necessity. That’s public transport, a mobile phone contract, a pint of lager.)

When Chinese entrepreneurs stroke gold, their income went up. Let’s imagine businessman Li, whose income has doubled over a year. Just because he now has twice the money, it does not mean he’ll be buying twice more rice than he did last year. However, his demand for luxury goods, such as imported whisky, he likes very much, has increased tenfold. 

Percentage change in demand divided by the percentage change in income is called income elasticity of demand and measures the relationship between demand for a particular type of good and income. 

Luxury goods have income elasticity of demand greater than one: in our expensive whisky example, it is nine (900% divided by 100%). Necessities have income elasticity of demand between zero and one: if Li’s income rose by 100% and his consumption of rice increased only by 30%, rice has income elasticity of demand of 0.3. For the so-called inferior goods income elasticity of demand is negative: Li is so rich now, he can afford a car and a driver, his demand for public buses in Shanghai has plummeted. 

Technicalities aside, it is easy to see that an increase in income causes a greater increase in demand for luxury goods than any other goods. 

What happens when income drops? Demand for designer brands, taxi rides, expensive cocktails and opera drops by an even greater factor, due to high income elasticity of demand for such products and services. 

How can you apply this lesson to the product or service you are selling? What does it teach you about your own behaviour when you got your first graduate job? 

On Saturday I came across a book in my local library called How to Tell Your Story So the World Listens by Bobette Buster. I flicked through the pages and found a chapter called The 10 Principles of Storytelling. I have not paid attention to such 'How to' prescriptive advice before, but I found the principles below very intuitive and helpful. I could certainly relate to them, and they seem to apply to any creative storytelling, be it product marketing, theatre production, film or blogging. 
 
1. Tell your story as if you're telling it to a friend: this applies no matter where you are or who your audience is.
 
2. Set the GPS: give the place, time, setting, and any relevant context. Keep it factual, short and sweet.
 
3. Action! Use active verbs or, as Ilike to say, 'Think Hemingway': spice up your verb choices but keep them succinct. Invest in a thesaurus (or a free app). Avoid multisyllabic, erudite, four-dollar words, over-intellectualising, philosophising, qualifying. See how many I just used? It's boring to keep reading them, isn't it?
 
4. Juxtapose: take two ideas, images, or thoughts and place them together. Let them collide. Remember  German philosopher, Friedrich Hegel, here: that in posing two opposing ideas, a whole new idea is created (thesis + antithesis = synthesis). This tool wakes up your audience, and is the root of all successful stories. 

5. Gleaming detail: choose one ordinary moment or object that becomes a 'gleaming detail'. Something that best captures and embodies the essence of the story. Make the ordinary extraordinary. 

6. 'Hand over the Spark': reflect on the experience or idea that originally captivated you and simply hand it to your audience as if it were aflame. Carry the fire.
 
7. Be vulnerable: date to share the emotion of your story. Be unafraid to ask your audience what you questioned along the way so they share your doubt, confusion, anger, sorrow, insight, glee, delight, joy, epiphany. 

8. Tune in to your sense memory: choose the strongest of the five senses in your story and use it to make a deeper connection with your audience. There is always one primary sense that dominates every memory. 

9. Bring yourself: a story is as much about you as anything else.

10. Let go: hand over your story, let tin it build to its natural, emotional punchline, then end it and get out fast. Leave the audience wanting more. Less is more.

Last week I was in New York. No matter what you are doing there (believe me, I was nowhere close to 5th Avenue), you are constantly under attack by ubiquitous ads, offering a sparkling smile for your next selfie, to buy a tree to save the jungle, to supersize your juice or to get three pairs of jeans for the price of two. It’s not just New York: whether you are walking on a street or browsing online, everyone seems to be after your credit card. 

Of course, New York is a famous shopping destination. Visitors fly home with an extra piece of luggage bursting with new purchases. Any high street or shopping mall promises an endorphin rush of retail therapy treatment. This psychological trick has been key in creating value for global and local brands alike: think Sennhauser, Selfridges, Burberry, Jimmy Choo. The question is: does retail therapy actually work?

Professor Richard Wiseman in his book 59 Seconds has asked just this question. Do we actually feel better after we splash out on a new bag or a gadget? And, more importably, does the joy last?
Professor Wiseman suggests filling in the following questionnaire to rate your level of materialism. I encourage you to do this quickly, even if popping into Selfridges or Bloomingdale’s isn’t your idea of a perfect day.

1 = strongly disagree to 5 = strongly agree

1. I am impressed by people who own expensive cars and houses                                                                 1 2 3 4 5 
2. I tend to judge how well I am doing in life by the possessions I buy                                                         1 2 3 4 5 
3. I like to buy things I don’t really need                                                                                                                 1 2 3 4 5 
4. I like to be surrounded by expensive items                                                                                                       1 2 3 4 5 
5. I think that my life would be better if I owned more luxury items                                                            1 2 3 4 5
6. I am sometimes bothered by the fact that I can’t afford to buy certain luxury goods                        1 2 3 4 5
7. Buying expensive items makes me feel good about myself                                                                         1 2 3 4 5
8. I seem to put more emphasis on material things than most of my friends and family                     1 2 3 4 5
9. I am prepared to pay significantly more money for branded items                                                          1 2 3 4 5 
10. I enjoy owning items that others find impressive                                                                                        1 2 3 4 5

Add up your scores. If you are between 40 and 50, you place high value on acquisition of possessions, you frequently associate happiness and success with being able to acquire things and you rate yourself and others by what you or they have. If your score is between 10 and 20, you value relationships and experiences more than possessions. If you are between 21 and 39, you are averagely materialistic and are, statistically speaking, of little interest. 

According to Wiseman, researchers have spent a great deal of time looking at the link between high scores in such questionnaires and happiness. “The findings are as consistent as they are worrying - high scores tend to be associated with feeling unhappy and unsatisfied with life.”

Why is this the case? It’s not about the financial consequences of always wanting the latest thing, but of how the money is spent. You see, materialists tend to be more self-centred. Elizabeth Dunn and her colleagues at the University of British Columbia conducted a survey among employees who received bonuses of $3,000 - $8,000 and found that people who spent a greater share of money on others were far happier than people who spent it on themselves. To prove that causality is indeed the “right” way, i.e. that spending money on others induces happiness rather than that happy people spend more money on others, Dunn and colleagues conducted another experiment where two groups people were given $20 to spend each. One randomly put together group of people was asked to spend money on themselves, whilst in the other group people were asked to buy presents for friends or family. "Participants who spent the money on their friends and family ended up feeling significantly happier than those who treated themselves."

It turns out that such findings aren’t surprising at all. "Neuroeconomist William Harbaugh and his colleagues from the University of Oregon gave participants $100 in a virtual bank account and asked them to lie down in a brain scanner. Participants first saw some of their money being given to help those in need via mandatory taxation, and were then asked to decide whether to donate some of the remaining amount to charity or keep it for themselves. The scanning results revealed that two evolutionary ancient regions deep in the brain - the caudate nucleus and the nucleus accumbens - became active when participants witnessed some of their money going to those in need, and were especially busy when they donated money voluntarily. These two brain regions also spring into action when our most basic needs are met, such as when we eat tasty food or feel valued by others, suggesting a direct brain-based link between helping others and happiness. 

Wiseman concludes that the only retail therapy that is capable of making you happy is when you spend money on others. (And if you don’t have spare cash, why not perform an act of kindness towards a friend or a stranger, which does not have to cost anything at all.)

But what makes people materialistic in the first place? Wiseman brings up research carried out by psychologists Lan Nguyen Chaplin and Deborah Roedder John, who published an article in the Journal of Consumer Research in 2007, arguing that “materialism takes root in early childhood, and is mainly driven by low self-esteem.” In their study children aged between eight and eighteen completed a questionnaire rating their self-esteem (with questions like “Are you happy with the way you look”?), before given a display board with images showing sports, hobbies, such as arts and music, friends, family, school and material things, such as new shoes or a computer. The children were asked to choose as many images as they liked to put together a collage “What makes me happy”. The task allowed researchers to assess the level of materialism, calculating the percentage of “material” images selected. Comparing the results revealed a strong link between low self-esteem and materialism. 

Wiseman also recommends that we “buy experiences not goods”. 

Psychologists Leaf Van Boven and Thomas Gilovich, quoted in 59 Seconds, conducted a number of studies which proved that buying experiences made people more happy than buying products both in he short- and in the long-term. The reason for that is our memories are easily edited so that we forget about the long wait at the airport and only remember the idyllic beach and the beautiful sunset. By contrast, purchases go out of fashion, we get used to them and stop noticing the gadgets only recently appearing so shiny at the Apple store. Also, experiences “force” us to spend time with others, and sociability is known to induce happiness. Conversely, certain purchases may isolate you from friends who might get jealous of your latest expensive treat.

There seems to be one last thing to add: grab a friend and go on holiday! 

In the days of pointedly attention-seeking headlines, it is easy to get caught in a Mexican wave of rising to the bait of mass media, joining the groupthink. Indeed, who will be seeking out faces in the stadium when the game of cat-and-mouse on the pitch is so enticing?

It’s a game like no other: there is one mouse and two cats. 

The mouse is dressed in a blue-and-yellow jumpsuit, its belt tightening with every passing day, for the mouse is hungry and exhausted. 

One of the cats is white, sleek with oil, its chest pumped up with gas. 

Another one is black, its arms are so long, it can reach any corner of the playground and slap down a bird or dig up a rodent hiding in a cave. 

The cats are having a ball: they love teasing the mouse with crumbs of cheese, then smacking it down with heavy paws. Once they even sent a paper aeroplane above its head: it landed on the mouse’s belly, blood spilling, entrails blasting across the entire playground. 

Most recently the white cat has been scaring the poor mouse with toys, and its black playmate has been yelling “Terror! Murder!”, whilst throwing scraps to the mouse, terrified and trapped. 

Enough. You get the picture. I now invite you to switch off your screens and glance up. You are looking for a friendly face, a beating heart, a real story. It’s not about Putin or Obama or Poroshenko, but about people who live and breathe, laugh and cry, travel, spill coffee and tease their loved ones. Perhaps, if we hold hands, governments will listen. 

In this photo I am among Ukrainian tourists in Toronto. It started to rain, and a tour guide let me borrow her IKEA umbrella. I suggested we take a photo of friendship under the symbolic Ukrainian flag. I am so very glad they agreed at once.