hen I was growing up in the 1980s, my family and I sometimes played a board game called ‘The Game of Life’. Rather than throwing dice, you spun a central wheel to determine your move, yielding a number between one and ten. The playing pieces were coloured plastic cars which meandered through an idyllic landscape towards the Day of Reckoning: a final choice between either the Country Cottage or Millionaire’s Mansion. Despite these names, money was the only thing that mattered in either scenario. You waited until every player had finished, either drawing a pension (Cottage) or speculating on the stock market (Mansion) in the meantime, then totted up your gains to determine the winner.
