As the fragile US-Iran ceasefire seems to falter, Monocle Radio is broadcasting live from the UAE this week. In the latest episode of The Globalist, Monocle’s editorial director, Tyler Brûlé, and editor in chief, Andrew Tuck, speak to Mohamed Khalifa al-Mubarak, the chairman of the UAE’s Department of Culture and Tourism. Behind the scenes, the tall, trainer-wearing chairman stands against an 18-metre-long reproduction of a 4,000-year-old sailing boat inside Abu Dhabi’s vast, sand-toned Zayed National Museum. It’s the kind of setting that lends itself to big ideas and Al-Mubarak doesn’t shy away from them. “Since the first ballistic missile, we haven’t stopped,” he says. “We haven’t had a day off.”

For Al-Mubarak, engaging with culture is a way to deal with the conflict. “Culture is the light at the end of the tunnel,” he says. In a region where war is often framed in terms of territory, trade routes or geopolitics, Abu Dhabi is making the argument that culture is as crucial as ports or pipelines. 

The Zayed National Museum isn’t a space designed purely for tourists or soft-power optics. School groups move through its galleries and families linger over artefacts that tell stories of hardship, trade and survival. “Our forefathers were here when oil wasn’t discovered, when they were battling left and right,” says Al-Mubarak. The museum is a space for memory and, importantly, continuity. In times of instability, that matters.

In a country where most residents are expats, culture is also being used to redraw the boundaries of belonging. “When we say that 200 nationalities are local, we really mean it,” says Al-Mubarak. Museums, festivals and public spaces are shared ground, places where identity is less fixed and more negotiated. This has implications beyond the UAE. Across the Middle East, culture has often been caught in the crossfire, literally and figuratively. Here, it is being positioned as a stabiliser – something that can hold a diverse population together, even as external pressures mount.

For Al-Mubarak, culture is also a long-term asset. “These institutions are not for the next five years,” he says. “They’re for the next 100 years.” The Guggenheim Abu Dhabi remains under construction, acquisition committees are still meeting and investments continue, even as uncertainty caused by the war lingers. 

This is where sceptics – particularly in the Western media – might raise an eyebrow. Can cultural ambition transcend geopolitical volatility? Al-Mubarak’s response is characteristically unbothered, borrowing from LL Cool J. “Don’t call it a comeback – I’ve been here for years,” he says. There’s a degree of bravado to this statement but the UAE has a track record to back it up. The country has weathered economic downturns, a global pandemic and regional conflict, each time recalibrating, rather than retreating. 

As Monocle Radio broadcasts from across the country this week, that recalibration will be visible everywhere – and I know because I live here. Hotels are busier, exhibitions and events are returning and conversations are less focused on whether the conflict will stop and more on how it will evolve. 

None of this is to suggest that culture can resolve conflict. It cannot. But what Abu Dhabi is showing is that culture can shape how a society endures it. In a week where anything could still happen, that feels like something worth paying attention to.

On Sunday night, with most of the votes counted, it became clear that Hungary’s prime minister, Viktor Orbán, had suffered a crushing electoral defeat. Péter Magyar, his victorious challenger, stepped onto a stage by the Danube in Budapest and told a sea of cheering supporters, “Together we liberated Hungary.” Celebration continued deep into the night, the air reverberating with the sound of motorists honking their horns. For long stretches, it was almost impossible to cross the river, with bridges and public transport clogged with crowds of young people, many of whom had voted for the first time. Across the city, bars stayed open late. Music played from open windows and parties spilled out onto the street.

Such was the outpouring of relief after 16 years of rule by Orbán and his Fidesz party. During that time, corruption became endemic, healthcare and education frayed and the economy stalled, paralysed by a system that rewards cronyism. All the while, Orbán constructed what he described as an “illiberal” state, with a tamed media and judiciary, a fixation on “traditional” values and a foreign policy friendly to Vladimir Putin’s Russia and the European far-right.

Magyar now promises to reverse this and return Hungary to the European fold as a reliable partner. Indeed, his rise began with Europe, when his party, Tisza, contested the European Parliament elections in June 2024. Speaking to me after a rally in western Hungary at the time, Magyar said, “I want to change Hungary completely. The Hungarian people are tired of the lies, corruption and propaganda.”

The 45-year-old Magyar was born into a family of lawyers and reportedly kept a photo of Orbán in his room as a boy. He earned a law degree at the Pázmány Péter Catholic University near Budapest before becoming a diplomat in Brussels and part of the establishment.

He came to prominence in February 2024 when a corruption scandal involving the granting of a pardon to a sexual abuser brought down two Fidesz figures: one was Hungary’s then-president, Katalin Novák, and the other was Magyar’s ex-wife, former justice minister Judit Varga. Until then a staunch ally of Orbán, Magyar turned against him.

Tisza went on to win almost 30 per cent of the vote in the EU elections – impressive, though everyone suspected that this was only a rehearsal for a far larger prize, which Magyar has now claimed. His victory was the result of relentless campaigning, during which he criss-crossed the country many times over, delivering as many as seven speeches in a single day. As one Tisza voter told me during the celebrations on Sunday, “Everyone saw this, so we hoped and believed.”

Even amid the jubilation, however, there was some scepticism. Many voters see parallels with the past and are suspicious of Magyar’s populist-lite style and his Fidesz origins. In his victory speech, he promised to rid the country of corrupt officials. But an uncomfortable question hangs in the air: now that Tisza has secured a two-thirds supermajority in parliament, giving it sweeping powers, will Magyar go after Orbán himself?

As the transition begins, he faces a difficult task – perhaps harder than winning the election. During his years in power, Orbán built a system that penetrated Hungary so deeply that it’s hard to see beyond it. As another former Fidesz insider once told me, “There’s no playbook for getting out of Orbán’s playbook.” So, as the emotions settle, what’s next for Hungary?

Alexei Korolyov is Monocle’s Vienna correspondent, reporting from Budapest. For more opinion, analysis and insight, subscribe to Monocle today.

As Monocle Radio begins a week of live broadcasting from the UAE, the country’s minister of state at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, Noura bint Mohammed Al Kaabi, joins us from the Zayed National Museum. The Middle East is just six weeks into a regional conflict that continues to test the Emirates’ security, infrastructure and diplomatic posture. For now, a fragile ceasefire holds, though the outlook remains uncertain following the failure of weekend talks in Islamabad to produce a permanent deal.

The pace of developments has been swift, with mounting pressure on key trade routes and renewed focus on the stability of the Strait of Hormuz. Questions have emerged over how Gulf states will position themselves as alliances shift and the limits of ceasefire diplomacy become clearer.

Against this backdrop, Al Kaabi sets out the UAE’s position: resilience at home, continuity in the face of disruption and a more assertive call for accountability as the next phase of negotiations begins to take shape.

This conversation has been edited for clarity and length.

You’ve described the past weeks as ‘unsettling’. How would you characterise where the UAE stands now?
We are living in very difficult times. For more than 40 days, the UAE has been under attack, with more than 3,000 missiles targeted at the country. Yet today, it stands in a position of resilience and strength.

Being here at the Zayed National Museum is symbolic. This institution represents an idea – and that idea is what is being attacked. This is not simply about geography. The UAE has not been part of this war, yet it has been targeted. The words that define this moment are resilience and continuity.

After the failed talks in Islamabad, were you surprised that no agreement was reached?
For us, a ceasefire is not the end – it is only the beginning. The UAE has been clear: we need accountability. We need these hostilities to stop.

The Strait of Hormuz must remain an open, international waterway. It cannot be held hostage by any country. The global economy depends on it, from trade and energy to food security and the environment. Our position is focused and consistent: accountability, stability and ensuring that the systems underpinning global commerce remain protected.

With talk of potential blockades and shifting alliances, what is the UAE’s immediate priority?
Our priority is to defend our sovereignty – our land and our people. But we are also looking ahead. If this continues, we must ask: can we rely on existing routes? Should we develop alternatives?

This moment is a test. And how a country responds to such a test defines it. In the UAE, life continues. Schools operate, businesses function and society adapts. There is continuity, even under pressure.

At the same time, we are reassessing our relationships and our long-term strategy in a rapidly changing geopolitical environment.

Do you expect the UAE and the wider Gulf to align more closely with the US or diversify partnerships further?
The UAE has always been a country that builds relationships. We are open, outward-looking and home to people from across the world. Our partnerships with the US span sectors such as AI, education and culture. At the same time, we are deepening ties with countries such as China across trade, technology and research.

Going forward, relationships will continue but with greater clarity. Safety comes first. We must be honest about threats and about the ideologies that have destabilised the region for decades. The key question is whether we allow the next generation to inherit the same cycles of conflict or whether we break them.

The UAE’s response has been widely noted for its communication and co-ordination. What has been key?
We have invested in communication capabilities for years. During the coronavirus pandemic, we prioritised transparency – and that approach continues today.

What matters is consistency and clarity. Communication happens at multiple levels, from leadership to experts to the wider community. Leadership has been visible, present and engaged, whether visiting hospitals or speaking directly to people.

We also consider the human side: how people feel, how they experience alerts, how they process uncertainty. Because when this ends – and we hope it ends soon – we will need to support our communities in adjusting to a new reality.

What might that ‘new reality’ look like for the UAE?
The UAE has always been about people. Its strength lies in the diversity of those who call it home.

What we have seen during this crisis is solidarity. Despite everything, people have chosen to stay. That belief in the system is fundamental.

There is often a perception that life here is transactional or temporary. But what we have witnessed proves otherwise. There is a deeper connection; a shared sense of belonging As our leadership has said: everyone in the UAE is an Emirati. In a polarised world, that is something we must protect. 

Listen to more from our coverage in the UAE on the Globalist.

Since being back in London, I’ve retained a Turkish compulsion. Every time that I see someone at work, a street cleaner, say, or a shop worker, I feel the urge – no, the need – to say “kolay gelsin”. In Turkey you say it to anyone who is exerting themselves – it literally means “may it come easy”. You say it down the phone to your bank’s call-centre worker when you finally get past the on-hold music and to the man on the street struggling home with his shopping. You can say it ironically if someone is facing a long weekend with the in-laws. You can even use it at the migration office, where the bureaucrat and I say it to one another as we pick through a problem in my Turkish paperwork.

These four syllables smooth the rough edges between urban tribes and social classes in Istanbul, creating frictionless moments of civility in the big city. Kolay gelsin is an acknowledgement that you both see and appreciate the effort that someone else is putting in. It is a social leveller, its grammar unafflicted by the Turkish formal and informal registers. It’s the kind of phrase that punches holes in the walls that we build up around ourselves in a megacity of strangers. In fact, Turkish is rich in them: there is also geçmiş olsun (may it be behind you), applicable to illness or any kind of misfortune. And as a nation of gourmands, Turkey also has its version of bon appétit: afiyet olsun, which is printed on napkins or menus, and even uttered when someone is just taking a sip of water.

English-language cities need an equivalent of kolay gelsin. London is a place that enjoys stout, single-syllable pleasantries – please, thanks, cheers – and while any of those could be used in similar situations, none capture the broad spectrum of its sentiment. “May it come easy” doesn’t have the succinct ring or charm of the original. Earlier this week I inadvertently let out a kolay gelsin when I passed one of the builders who has been shovelling skips full of earth out of the garden next door.

“Huh?” 
 
“May it come easy,” I said.

He stared back. “Right. OK.”

In that moment he might have wanted to use one of the snippier Turkish replies: kolaysa sen yap – meaning “if it’s easy, you do it”. And I wouldn’t have blamed him – “may it come easy” sounds imperious, even mocking to Anglo ears.

What we need is a phrase that will slip naturally into our street-speech, a phrase that both acknowledges the toil of the recipient and bestows the giver with the glow of having contributed positively to city life. “Good job” sounds a little patronising. “I hope it’s not too difficult” feels like a curse.

Perhaps the answer is simply to import kolay gelsin unaltered, in the way that English is so good at. Kismet is Turkishism fully absorbed into London English. It is one of the more pronounceable Turkish phrases, short in length and sweet sounding yet its force is far stronger than its literal meaning. Within the English language it can take on new regional accents and nuances, and perhaps even one day be accepted into the Oxford English Dictionary (given that the 2025 Oxford Word of the Year was “rage bait”, a little civility wouldn’t go amiss). And for Turkey, what better soft-power tool? President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan presents the tough face of his country, while the tourism board promotes the clichés. But if Turkey wants to endear itself, this might be the key. 

Happy Monday – kolay gelsin!

Hannah Lucinda Smith is Monocle’s Istanbul correspondent. For more from Lucinda Smith, read: 

– Coasters be damned – a well-worn table is the heart of a home

– Turkic states are investing in soft power but it’s Ankara that seeks to steal the show

– Street food is still a defining force in the culinary scene of Istanbul

It’s a dazzling morning when Monocle steps onto the quay at the Gold Coast Yacht and Country Club. Situated along Tuen Mun coast, the marina feels oceans away from the city’s frenzied urban pulse. The calming presence of the surrounding mountains and gentle waters set the tone as Lawrence Chow, our pilot for the day, makes the final adjustments to his Jeanneau Velasco 37F boat.

He’s the chairman of the Hong Kong Boating Industry Association and will be taking us on a voyage from the northwestern coast through to Victoria Harbour before casting anchor in the seaside town of Sai Kung. There’s no better guide to show us the sites that will set the course for Hong Kong’s ambitions to be Asia’s own yacht club. “I’ve been in dialogue with the government about growing the yacht economy for many years, and there’s recently been a big shift,” Chow says, as we set sail.

In his September 2025 policy address, Hong Kong’s chief executive, John Lee, announced plans to develop the city into a luxury destination, including 600 new berths at the former Lamma Quarry, the Aberdeen Typhoon Shelter and a waterfront project near Hung Hom station. He also pledged to ease visiting-yacht requirements, opening the way for cross-border travel with China, with the hopes of establishing a “Greater Bay” boating culture with the Wanshan and Chuanshan archipelagos.

A successful yacht industry, according to a recent Business and Professionals Alliance for Hong Kong report, could pump HKD4.5bn (€494m) into the city’s economy annually, from yacht-related services to boat sales. This rising tide should also lift adjacent industries, such as hospitality, luxury retail and wellness. Buoyed by nine private marinas and yacht clubs, Hong Kong already boasts a large fleet of more than 12,300 pleasure boats, yet there are fewer than 5,000 private and public moorings. Many of the private marinas and yacht clubs were built in the 1980s and 1990s; now, decades later, the government is ready to take to the water once again.

Our first stop is Ma Wan, a historic fishing village that has long caught Chow’s eye. Perched between Lantau Island and Tsing Yi village, the island houses a year-old arts and cultural complex, a heritage centre featuring archaeological finds and nature trails. “This is a photogenic island with plenty of things to see but there is currently no infrastructure to get people onto land,” says Chow, as our boat bobs close to shore. He’s referring to the lack of pontoons and trained staff that would allow boaters to encounter the island up-close. While there are currently no concrete plans to develop an anchorage here, Chow – an architect-turned-consultant on marina construction at Marine Asia – remains hopeful. To him, Ma Wan represents one of many untapped spots dotted around Hong Kong.

A glitzier experience awaits at the iconic Victoria Harbour. Flanked by skyscrapers and scenic promenades, the area’s magnetic energy explains the Hong Kong government’s decision to turn nearby Hung Hom station into a waterfront landmark, complete with a marina and entertainment complex. “In future, boaters can easily hop off, catch a concert, shop and dine, all within a few hours,” says Chow.

The landscape gets more rugged as we wind around Clear Water Bay towards Sai Kung. Dramatic cliffs, deep-sea caves and pristine beaches come into view, set against the mountains. For a split-second, it feels as if we are in the Scottish Highlands but with infinitely better weather. “When the tide is low, people will jump off their yachts to kayak or wade in the wild waters,” he says. “Yachting encompasses a whole range of water sports.” It’s clear that Hong Kong’s yachting industry deserves its place in the sun.

1.   
It had been bubbling and gurgling for a while but I ignored it, made the best of an increasingly unmanageable situation and pushed it to the side. Something to be dealt with another day, I told myself. On my return from Bangkok I was confronted with the issue again and I was about to tackle it head-on but time wasn’t on my side, so I declared that today would be the day that I got back in control and dealt with a problem that had been slowing me down most mornings when I happened to be in Zürich. Yes, you guessed it dear reader, the sock drawers needed a brutal edit. 

In the run-up to the start of this operation, it was decided that the campaign would be somewhat surgical in nature and would take up two working days – with a little left over for lunch, shopping, a lake dip, column writing and Monocle on Sunday. The key targets were small mountains of magazines and newspapers, shoes for various activities, knitwear, undies, the drawers with rogue receipts and business cards and the multiple cupboards and cabinets of potions, lotions, tonics and tinctures. It’s now the end of the day on Saturday and I’m feeling quite good about things. The main bedroom is looking sharp but the guest bedroom is still a staging area and copies of favourite titles, such as Manera, Salon, Premium, Popeye and Brutus, need to be gathered up and put in order. Also, the CDs need a place to be played (I bought a stack of Taiwanese and Japanese jazz at Eslite in Taipei a few weeks ago) but there’s one cable missing from the Denon sound system that I have yet to pick up, so that will need to wait until the next domestic day arrives later in the month. 

There’s an overwhelming amount of print everywhere you look. There are so many magazines that have had a quick flip and demand more time, cookbooks that need to be splattered with hot olive oil in the kitchen and perhaps a decade’s worth of fiction fit for the sunlounger. I have tried a level of triage by airlifting some intriguing cases to colleagues who might be more in need of story ideas or interesting binding techniques for future volumes. Speaking of future volumes, wait till you see the May issue, which just hit my table (and is soon to hit newsstands, our online store and subscribers’ doorsteps). Keep an eye out for our new handbook on Thailand too. Tasty!

2.   
Just as the “my son/daughter is looking for a summer internship in media and do you have a position for them?” season has started, so too has the arrival of browsers coming into our shops for something to buy their grandson or goddaughter for graduation. What better way to arm a future generation of entrepreneurs and diplomats than to buy them a print and digital subscription to Monocle? The best bit about signing them up is that rather than trying to hook up with a future partner via an app, they can simply look for other like-minded potential partners who also happen to be carrying a Monocle tote. It’s almost as good as a perfectly engineered arranged marriage.

3.   
You have to go way, way back in the Monocle Radio archive to find editions of The Globalist anchored by Tyler Brûlé and Andrew Tuck. The very good news is that from Monday morning we’ll save you the trouble as Mr Tuck and I will be your hosts for a week of The Globalist from the Gulf. We’ll be serving up the usual mix of global news, business and culture but Abu Dhabi, Sharjah and Dubai will be the backdrop as we get a measure of what’s happening across the region. Tune in live from 10.00 GST, 08.00 CET or 07.00 in the UK. Of course, you can always catch the podcast if you’re not up bright and early. Wishing you a good week.

Enjoying life in ‘The Faster Lane’? Click here to browse all of Tyler’s past columns.

Nothing in Australia is quite like anything anywhere else. The trees are different shapes, the flowers are different colours and the animals are just weird. It should not be astonishing, then, that Australia’s scents are no less idiosyncratic, but it’s perhaps surprising that so few perfumers have sought to capitalise on them. 

This thought occurred to Dimitri Weber, a Franco-Belgian perfumer, a decade ago. He had worked at several of the great European houses, such as Yves Saint Laurent, Gucci and Cartier, before launching Goldfield & Banks in 2016. The aim? To establish a distinctively Australian luxury perfume house with scents that boast inspiration and ingredients from across the Australian continent. Its perfume, Southern Bloom, for example, is drawn from Bruny Island – almost as far south as Australia goes: it boasts boronia, ylang-ylang and coconut, among other essences, and like many Goldfield & Banks scents it goes heavy on the Australian sandalwood.

As Goldfield & Banks marks its 10th anniversary, Dimitri Weber reflects on the journey so far with Monocle’s Andrew Mueller on The Entrepreneurs.

Is it strange that Australia isn’t more thought of as a perfume hotbed?
It has an untapped flora that has been explored in skincare but never in perfumery. We have amazing ingredients that have never been used in perfumery before. [And yet] Australia is one of the world’s biggest exporters of sandalwood. The sandalwood you find today in all the fragrances in all the department stores in the world: I would say, 90 per cent comes from Australia. We have some of the biggest lavender fields on the planet, too. It’s a really rich botanical culture in Australia, and my role with Goldfield & Banks is to share this beauty with the world.

How did you end up in Australia – and did it strike you instantly that it was under-utilised in this respect?
I worked in the fragrance industry [in Europe] for more than 30 years, and one of the brands that I was working with, which was a very high-end luxury jewellery brand, sent me to Australia to host a PR event. I was always intrigued by the ingredients coming from Australia. We have one ingredient, a beautiful, tiny, little flower called boronia that we find in Tasmania. It was used for the very first time in 1964 in a Dior fragrance.

Where do you even start launching a perfume house?
I had experience in retail, education, marketing, PR and even product development. So this allowed me to take a chance on creating my own fragrance brand. I didn’t really want [to] in the beginning. It was a risk. I just took €20,000 and opened this tiny little business, and today we still [haven’t gone to the] bank for anything. I’m very proud of having achieved that. With such a small amount of money, you can achieve beautiful things. It’s passion that drove me to create my own brand: my passion for Australia and [my passion] to show the world that perfume doesn’t necessarily have to be French. It can also be Australian. 

We apply the French expertise – we manufacture in France because you can’t have luxury without manufacturing in France, especially fragrances. But [we showcase] all these beautiful ingredients; that’s what I wanted.

How tough was it, especially early on? Did people understand what you were trying to do?
I did my market research for about a year before taking the step and creating this brand. The consumer was definitely ready for it. Australians were keen and happy that finally someone would create a beautiful, luxury fragrance house. Australian fashion houses were booming – Zimmermann, for example. Aesop is an Australian brand, too. And I knew there was a gap with fragrances. The international retailers such as] Harrods and Barneys believed in the brand straight away but the local retailers in Australia were a little bit sceptical.

Where did that scepticism come from?
They had this idea of luxury perfume being only French and a bit Italian, a bit London. But it takes education. It takes time. I remember people looking at me like I was an alien – like, ‘What’s this guy doing? What does he want with his perfume? What is he going to achieve with this?’ But I knew I was going to make it. I didn’t hesitate. 

How important was the name – it alludes to the 19th-century goldrushes and Joseph Banks, the botanist who sailed with Captain Cook?
The ‘Goldfield’ is for sandalwood. The tree grows only on fields of gold, because you need gold in the soil in order for the tree to grow. Australia is about the land and the earth, and so I wanted to have something very earthy in the name of my fragrance house. And then Joseph Banks. . . I just feel like a new version of Joseph Banks. He came back to Europe with more than 33,000 pieces of plants and pots and shrubs and showcased to Europeans all the beauty of the Pacific region. And now I’m doing the same with my little oils.

How much physical exploration of Australia is involved?
For the first five or six years, I travelled a lot in the country – I still do to look for new ingredients. But we have the privilege today that a lot of suppliers come to us and say, ‘We’ve got this incredible flower. Can you do something with it?’

Do you feel like you’re selling Australia, as well as the scents?
Even if you’re attracted by a campaign or by a bottle or by storytelling, if the fragrance doesn’t suit you, it doesn’t suit you. But as an Australian brand we work really hard on this beautiful story and expressing that in beautiful campaigns. Not many people travel to Australia because it’s so far away. So the least I can do is to work hard on the assets with photographers, with production houses, creating films to really give our audience a sample of what Australia is really like. That’s very important because with a French perfume house you can take the train and go to Paris – everybody knows the Eiffel Tower – but there is still a mystery around Australia. People come to me and say [that] they will probably never go to Australia because it’s so far away, but thanks to our fragrances they can imagine how beautiful the country is. That, to me, is the best compliment you can get.

Flying commercial can be an experience. And not always a good one. While headlines focus on belligerent drunks causing planes to be redirected or crazed people trying to open the door mid-flight, it’s usually a host of smaller infractions of etiquette that leave fellow passengers – and no doubt many crew – seething. So please remember the following.

1.
Don’t touch my hat! It’s remarkable how many people up at the front of the plane believe that the overhead luggage bin is an extension of their home wardrobe and accordingly attempt to control all access. Sorry, but finding a home for someone’s suitcase takes precedence over accommodating the expansive experimental millinery you’ve purchased for cousin Jill’s wedding in Siena. Really worried? Pop that fedora on your head and wear your packing regret with pride.

2.
When you are asked by the crew to put your phone away for takeoff, please just do it. Again, this behaviour is most egregious at the front of the plane where all too often there’s an entitled fellow who behaves like he’s closing the deal of the century. The cabin crew aren’t buying your Masters of the Universe status and neither are your neighbours. Put it away.

3.
It’s also striking how many people are midway through a brutal telephonic slanging match with their partner as the plane readies for lift off and their signal dies. “I know that you’re sleeping with her, don’t deny it… hello, can you hear me? Hello? Hello, are you still there Simon?” Can be entertaining for people nibbling their nuts in the rows around you but best avoided.

4.
Should you talk to the passenger next to you? Interesting one. I’d say read the signs. If they are constantly holding their headphones an inch away from their ears or keep glancing at their book about accountancy then they don’t want to chat. But even if they are up for a conversation keep the topics light and easy – no emotional downloads, no updates on Simon’s philandering, no medical histories, no sex tips (unless they are really good).

5.
Who has the right to control the window blind? The person sitting next to it of course. This is one of the last remaining tenets of a civilised world.

6.
Can you ask people to switch seats so that you can sit next to your partner? Of course but only if you are not attempting to manoeuvre anyone to a worse seat. And no silliness if they decline your offer.

7.
Seat in the recline position after takeoff? Ask the person behind if it would inconvenience them and take it from there. It’s the sudden jerking back of a seat that causes tempers to fly, especially when people have a laptop out or are eating. Being nice is always a good plan.

8.
Did you and your partner book an aisle and window seat and expect someone to sit in between you all the way to Corfu? I hope your luggage goes missing. You are bad people.

9.
On short-haul flights any meal or drinks service is against the clock. So cut it out with the elaborate drink order. No they can’t make you an extra-spicy bloody mary. You’re not down the Dog and Duck.

10.
Babies cry. Get over it.

11.
Old people are sometimes slow. Get over this too.

12.
Is it OK to bring your own food? Of course. But there are limits. I recently sat next to a muscular gentleman who – judging by the whole roast chicken he devoured – seemed concerned about his protein intake. Or how about the four tech bros dotted around a business-class cabin who were served tubs of health-food nonsense by a private chef who appeared from his seat behind the economy curtain? Tofu time can wait.

13.
God invented headphones for a reason – so children can play video games in silence. And, no, even if you turn down the volume, nobody wants to hear the tinny refrain of Peppa Pig’s latest adventure.

14.
Can you rest your weary bare feet on the fuselage? No, you need some socks, a pedicure and some manners.

15.
Finally, people want to get off this flight, so please perfect your exit. Perhaps practise at home a few times by rearranging your dining chairs in a neat row like on a plane. And remember, coats can be put on once you are off the aircraft. 

Follow these rules and you might not enjoy your flight but at least nobody will fantasise about opening the door over the Med.

To read more from Andrew Tuck, click here. 

Listen to this story on The Urbanist.

When Zohran Mamdani was sworn in as mayor of New York on 1 January this year, he came with several “firsts”. He is the first Muslim leader of the city, the first of South Asian descent, the first born in Africa and the youngest mayor in more than 100 years. But like many of his predecessors, the 34-year-old came into office facing rising housing costs, a troubled public-transport system, a growing divide between low-income and high-income families, and a high proportion of immigrant residents.

To win more than a million votes in the general election, the democratic socialist ran on several key campaign promises. Notably, he proposed a rent freeze, free childcare and a faster and cheaper bus system that overwhelmingly serves the city’s low-income residents. 

Four months into his tenure, a poll conducted by the Marist Institute shows that just under 50 per cent of New Yorkers are supportive of the first-time mayor, though it is too early to judge the long-term success of his initiatives.

At the culmination of Mamdani’s first 100 days, Monocle reviews his promises on housing, free bus fares, small-business affordability and immigration.

Housing

Republicans and Democrats pander to US home owners for a simple reason: people who own their own homes tend to vote at higher rates than those who don’t. But during Mamdani’s mayoral campaign he flipped the script on its head, banking on a loud and direct appeal to the 69 per cent of New Yorkers who rent. The two main promises that he made were to build 200,000 new affordable homes over 10 years and to freeze rents for almost one million New York apartments. These policies won the support of many voters and played a major part in getting Mamdani into office. 

The cost of housing is by far the single biggest expense that most New Yorkers face. More than half of the city’s renters spend upwards of 30 per cent of their income on rent, and a third spend more than 50 per cent. The most significant step towards creating new homes in Mandani’s first 100 days came in late March with the announcement of the Neighbourhood Builders Fast Track policy, which makes it easier for affordable homes to be built on land owned by the city.

Mamdani’s ambition to build those units still faces massive challenges. To realise the plan, the city will need to borrow an additional $70bn (€60bn) over the next decade, and that’s on top of the roughly $25bn (€21.3bn) already committed to affordable housing in the existing capital plan. This would push the city well past its legal debt ceiling and require the approval of New York’s governor and state legislature in Albany, where at least some lawmakers are likely to balk given the additional debt service it would impose on an already strained budget.

The mayor’s commitment to freeze rents will only apply to the city’s one million rent-stabilised apartments, whose rental price is set annually by the New York City Rent Guidelines Board (RGB), a nine-member body appointed by the mayor. Although a freeze will come as a relief to renters, landlords who own the apartments worry that the measure could push them into insolvency. Since 2020, expenses for owners have risen while the price of rents hasn’t kept up and many owners claim that they are on the verge of foreclosure.

The RGB is scheduled to have a preliminary vote in May, with a final decision in June. Any changes would apply to leases taking effect later this year. The decision is likely to set the template for the city’s approach to rent-stabilised apartments for as long as Mamdani is in office. But this is not a story that ends with Mamdani or with New York. Renters across the US are dealing with wages that haven’t kept pace with housing costs, home ownership that feels permanently out of reach and a political class that has historically been more attentive to those who own than to those who rent. The successes and failures of Mamdani’s attempts to address these issues are certain to resonate beyond the five boroughs.

Transportation

Among the signature promises that Mamdani made during his campaign, free bus services might have been one of the boldest. The welfare state barely exists in the US and anything “free” seems unimaginable. In a city that’s facing a major affordability crisis, where transportation is the second-largest cost after housing – making up 14 per cent of household spending – a free bus ride could save people hundreds of dollars a year. Although it’s almost unprecedented in the US, there are cities, such as Kansas City and Boston, that have some fare-free routes. But they’re significantly smaller urban areas than New York and fare revenue makes up a smaller percentage of the budget. 

For Mamdani, the route to free bus fares is anything but direct. The MTA, which runs the vast majority of buses in the city, is a state agency and not under the mayor’s control, so he has to get New York governor Kathy Hochul on board. Another challenge is cost. Bus fares generate about $600m (€512m) a year, money that the MTA relies on for drivers’ pay and maintenance costs. One hundred days into Mamdani’s first term and free buses are still more of a promise than a policy, with no clear funding strategy in sight. 

But he has made some headway: speeding up bus services, and extending and constructing bus lanes. He has other options that he can expand on too, such as building on an existing programme called Fair Fares to make fares more affordable. The discount programme grants riders a 50 per cent discount on standard fares but it has drawbacks – only about 35 per cent of those eligible have enrolled and the application process is onerous.

Spotlighting the bus is likely what the city needs. Although most people think of New York as a subway city, more New Yorkers ride the bus than the train. They’re mostly low-income or essential workers in sectors such as healthcare and education who rely heavily on an underfunded and neglected system. It’s important to acknowledge these issues because cutting fares, making buses speedier and hopefully, one day, free, will not only put money back in people’s pockets but restore their faith in local government too. 

Small businesses

One part of Mamdani’s campaign was the promise to make it more affordable to establish small businesses in the city. The permitting process to create a business is complex. Many documents must be filed in person or over the phone, which prohibits many people from even beginning the process. Additionally, there are about 6,000 rules and regulations for small businesses in the city and fines for anyone who flouts the rules. 

Mamdani proposed cutting fines by half, speeding up permitting and making sure that there were more online resources available. One step towards this was creating the role of a mom-and-pop czar, which will cut red tape and ensure that these policies are followed.

Earlier this week, Delia Awusi was appointed to the role. Most recently the women’s business director at the Business Outreach Center Network in Brooklyn, she focused on making sure women-led businesses had the same opportunities as anyone else trying to start a company. In her new role, Awusi will be in charge of helping “ultra-small” businesses navigate the system. 

Another campaign promise was revamping the New York Future Fund loan programme, which is designed to expand access to affordable financing for anyone who wants to start a small business, with a specific focus on minority, immigrant and female founders. In its rollout of the programme, the administration announced that it would lower the minimum loan amounts from $100,000 to $25,000, reduce interest rates and make repayment terms more flexible.

These measures are ambitious but the administration appears to be putting accountability elements in place. Whether they help more small businesses succeed in the city is yet to be seen.

Immigration

Monocle’s editor in chief, Andrew Tuck, interviews Mazin Sidahmed, executive director and co-founder of Documented, a nonprofit newsroom that serves immigrant communities in New York.

Tell us about the response to Mamdani’s mayorship so far.
There are three major immigrant communities in New York: Spanish-speaking immigrants, Chinese immigrants and Caribbean immigrants, though there’s nuance across all of those different communities. Broadly, Mamdani enjoyed widespread support among all of them due to his focus on affordability. We saw a lot of our readers come out and support Donald Trump in the 2024 presidential election because they were [concerned by] inflation. People felt like the cost of living had spiralled out of control. Mamdani’s laser focus on that issue got widespread support, while the Democratic Party struggled and lost a lot of support. 

Immigration enforcement has been one of the biggest concerns for immigrant New Yorkers over the past year. Documented did a story a few months ago about how immigration enforcement in the city doubled in 2025 – there are hundreds of ICE [Immigration and Customs Enforcement] arrests every week. People are afraid to leave their houses. It has become a petrifying time for a lot of immigrant communities, people fear even taking their children to school. On that front, Mamdani has come out quite forcefully and said that he’s going to try to make New York a city that is safe for immigrants. He created an inter-agency response team. There has been a real focus on preventing the sharing of any data from the New York City Government to the federal government. That’s the one area that a local administration can really control.

But rhetorically the administration has been quite strong on the labour front. A lot of our readers are delivery workers. They’re cab drivers, they work in restaurants and they’re home-health aides. Mamdani has been delivering a lot more on that front and people have seen some tangible results. But we’ve reported on some tensions as well. He’s strangely been quite opposed to legislation that would provide overtime protection for home-health aides, people who care for elderly, sick or mentally unwell people – often those are immigrant workers. 

If we had a checklist of things that Mamdani promised to do or that immigrant communities wanted from their mayor, what would you be confident about putting a big tick next to?
The universal 2-K could be really transformative for low-wage New York, and honestly, for people across all different classes and wages. [The programme grants free childcare for two-year-olds, with the first 2,000 seats mostly distributed to low-income New Yorkers.] It has received support from Albany and you can pretty confidently put a tick against that happening. 

There’s a pilot programme that will launch this year in a few communities. Whether it gets to the point that Mamdani promised – that any babies from six months old will have access to free childcare – I’m not sure. But you can definitely say there will be some sort of additional support. 

The tradition of reviewing the first 100 days is such an American construct, I believe, from the days of Roosevelt. But what do your readers hope for from day 101 onwards? 
Immigrant New Yorkers today are living in intense fear. There is a feeling that you can’t leave your house. We’ve done a number of stories about immigrant neighbourhoods that are economically struggling because they just can’t get any foot traffic. People don’t want to go out and walk around the neighbourhood and frequent the businesses as they have previously. 

Over the next few years folks will be looking to Mamdani to find ways to protect the city and create safer environments for people to go to work, and have access to support and services. It’s going to be really difficult for Mamdani to deliver on, because as we’ve seen, the local government has very little control of federal immigration enforcement. So how they address that challenge is going to be really telling. Whether or not immigrant New Yorkers will start to blame Mamdani and turn on him for the actions of the Trump administration will be interesting to watch over these next few years.

Japan’s sartorial big hitters have long intrigued the fashion world – and Hirofumi Kurino is right up there as one of the most influential figures in menswear. A co-founder of Japanese fashion retailer United Arrows (UA), where he is now a senior adviser, Kurino’s signature blend of high and low – a tailored jacket and New Balance trainers – is easy to admire and hard to imitate. Relentlessly snapped by street photographers, Kurino knows how to appreciate craftsmanship, whether in an Italian shirt, Japanese wool trousers or a good tweed, but he will happily try something new.

Comfortable in his own skin, unfailingly courteous and curious about the world, Kurino, who is also a consultant for Japanese manufacturing organisation J-Quality, is the embodiment of great style. monocle meets him in the fashion archive of UA’s Tokyo HQ to talk about the art of getting dressed.

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How do you decide what to wear every morning?
There’s no formula. Sometimes I choose my clothes the night before, sometimes I decide in the morning. It depends if I have a certain image in my mind. I prefer natural fabrics but I’m open to any material or silhouette. Colour is key for me when I’m choosing what to wear; it’s more important than the fit. Royal blue is my favourite. I dress for myself, and maybe for friends who appreciate my style but I’m not interested in showing off or thinking about whether someone is going to photograph me. If I head out in the morning and something doesn’t feel right – maybe the socks are wrong – I’ll turn back. My wife and daughter are the same.

Anything you steer away from?
I don’t like rules for dressing and I think age is irrelevant but I do avoid logos and big luxury brands, and I don’t like pre-ripped jeans. If my jeans tear naturally, that’s different.

Who or what influences your style?
When I was at school in Setagaya in Tokyo, my first style idol was Sean Connery in From Russia with Love, even if I couldn’t afford to replicate his sharp suits at that age. I loved The Beatles too. I also DJ for friends from time to time. I was buying vinyl in the 1960s, switched to CDs and now I’m back with vinyl again, so album covers such as Nursery Cryme [Genesis, 1971] or New Boots and Panties!! [Ian Dury, 1977] can be big style inspirations. I draw a lot from travelling. I recently did a 17-day trip to Europe and attended Dries Van Noten’s final show in Paris, which was very emotional. He did 129 shows in his career and I went to 125 of them.

You spend so much time on the road. How do you pack for a trip?
I’m good at packing a capsule wardrobe and I like a soft Eastpak holdall on wheels. I have 10 of them. 

What are your wardrobe staples?
I still wear a lot of jackets and suits. I’m a big fan of Caruso suits; I love the way they’re relaxed but elegant. I wear shirts from all over the place, but UA is probably the biggest buyer of [Neapolitan shirtmaker] Salvatore Piccolo. I’ve also ended up with an encyclopedic knowledge of white T-shirts and Uniqlo has one of the best. I’m interested in mass production and love the socks from my nearby supermarket. I also go to a local barber. I’ve had my hair the same way for 30 years – if I go somewhere fancy my hair will look the way the stylist wants and not like me. 

Which young labels are you currently enjoying?
Recently, I’ve been interested in Wales Bonner and SS Daley [from London] as well as [Milan-based Japanese label] Setchu. A black Setchu blazer that I have is amazing, it folds up into a B4 envelope and the creases are built in. You just have to hope that nobody tries to iron them out. 

Are you still excited about fashion?
If I think about fashion as trends or big companies, I’m not so thrilled. But if I think about creation, craftsmanship and interesting people, then I’m excited.