Depressing, isn’t it? Sometimes the world seems like it is overflowing with hatred, ignorance, prejudice, selfishness, negativity and - let’s be frank - downright idiocy, and the guilty ones won’t rest until they have dragged all of us into the gutter with them.

Their poison seeps out of the news and social media and into our homes, polluting the minds and depressing the spirits of decent and reasonable people, until we just wish we could escape from it, even for just half a day.

Well, we can. And we do.

The other day my wife and I did what we always do when we are feeling a bit down: we jumped in the car and went to Ikea.

As I have said before in this column, I am a huge fan, but this time I am not going to wax lyrical about their hotdogs, meatballs, weird Scandinavian berry drinks, nor their idea of having jam with mashed potato, which is so crazy it actually works.

All of these things, on their own, are worth the trip down to Bristol, but what I like best about the Ikea phenomenon is their approach to everything. You just know that every single product has been thought through, mulled over (possibly for years), then analysed again and perfected before being unleashed.

In a world where, increasingly, anything will do, they really put their minds to it.

And the strange Swedish names they give all their products make Ikea seem like some kind of philosophy or religion, or magic.

Going there is like stepping into a gallery, the shelves providing new insights into the creativity of the human brain.

Even the most simple, functional Ikea product is beautifully designed and honed to perfection, while countless others have you scratching your head and asking: “Why didn’t I think of that?”

Now and again they come up with something that is stunningly innovative or beautiful, like a set of three little plastic hooks in the shape of chairs.

Every time we go there we buy a pack, even though we already have all the hooks we need.

On our latest visit we had a vague idea we would like to replace the tired old Venetian blinds in our front windows, and stumbled on what Ikea call Hoppvals.

It’s only a blind, you might think, but closer inspection reveals Hoppvals to be an incredibly clever design that allows the blind to go up and down as if it is defying gravity, in contrast to the struggle you have, every time you want to operate a Venetian blind.

I spent ten minutes admiring Hoppvals, marvelling at the genius that came up with it. And then we bought five.

We also needed some shelving for a project we have been meaning to get on with: the refitting of our son’s old bedroom.

We decided on the model of bookcase that Ikea call Billy, and ordered four of them – to add to the five we already have in our house.

Ikea have sold more than 60 million over the years, so it isn’t surprising the robots in their factories make one every three seconds.

Indeed, they are so popular and so successful that Bloomberg, the financial, software and media company, use sales of Billy bookcases to monitor world trade and retail trends, like other people analyse gold prices and currency.

Apparently, it’s called the Bloomberg Billy Bookcase Index.

We live in an increasingly downbeat, demoralising and probably self-destructive world, run by people who deserve neither our respect nor our votes, but at least we have some places to escape to.

So if the phone rings, say I’m not in. Say I’ve gone to Sweden.