The Economist. Hello and welcome to the intelligence from The Economist. I'm Rosie Bloor.

And I'm Jason Palmer. Every weekday, we provide a fresh perspective on the events shaping your world.

Who do you consult when making big life decisions?

Whether to take a new job, who to marry, time to get pregnant?

Well, our correspondent would like to encourage you to consider a new Oracle for an annual checkup.

Your economist will see you now.

And you know what I'd do if I hit the lottery? I'd get a snazzy private chef,

partly as teacher, but mostly just to feed newly rich, newly lazy me. It'd be easy to find one,

too. They're plastered all over social media,

spilling the secrets of other lazy rich folk.

But first...

On a sunny day a few weeks ago, I visited the port of Felixstowe, about an hour east of London.

It's Britain's busiest port, 11,000 containers pass through it each day,

and the whole area around it is a maze of industrial units and packing facilities,

with giant stacks of containers and lorries bustling to and throw.

But I was there to find out how the police hunt for stolen cars.

Tom Sass is our Britain Public Policy Editor.

Guiding me around was Adam Gibson,

the lone police officer tasked with finding vehicles stashed away in the shipping containers before they get exported.

He showed me around a giant marquee where he inspects suspicious cars and then took me down

to the port itself, where a ship was being ready to leave.

We watched as a giant gantry crane stacked containers in the

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