In the wake of the Panama Papers, Stylist columnist Lucy Mangan explains why she is baffled by how much money is really enough.

A question that permanently intrigues me is: how much money is enough? How much would be enough to enable you to stop work? To stop worrying? Is it different for all of us or is there an amount that would unite us all in idle luxury? My friend reckons she would kick back and relax if the lottery furnished her with £10m. She’s high maintenance. I would be happy with enough to provide a lifetime’s supply of Pret chocolate croissants, a Liberty sofa and the annual liposuction to remove the combined effects of enjoying same. Bigger dreams make me anxious.

This is not the case for everyone, clearly. I doubt, for example, that anywhere in the thousands of documents involved in the offshore accounting and tax evasion uncovered via the Panama Papers investigation, will there be a single memo saying, “Mr X feels he has accumulated enough to be secure for the rest of his life and is now happy to work within the traditional limits of the law.”

“Shouldn’t money free us to be better?” Lucy Mangan on why longing to be rich is a difficult dream