Intro
At the end of the year, I looked through the books I’d read and thought about how much the list said about my life. Like the other things we spend time on, books reflect our interests and concerns.
Judging by this list, people and my own habits occupied me more than technology this year. Perhaps I was partly distracting myself from other things. But some of what I read helped me look at those things differently, too.
0. The Gospels
I began reading the Gospels with the assumption that no wording was accidental. I wanted to understand how the text related to everyday life. When the meaning wasn’t clear, I tried not to rush to a conclusion and returned to it later, thinking about my own experience.
That made the reading slow and intermittent. Many ideas needed time to settle and an opportunity to try them in practice.
I thought most about responsibility, ego, forgiveness, and service: how our choices shape our lives, and how avoiding responsibility makes mistakes more costly. I understood forgiveness of myself and others as a chance to stop returning to the same resentment. In the passages about ego, I recognized the habit of justifying myself, reacting painfully to a loss of status, and losing sight of other people.
1. The 48 Laws of Power (Robert Greene)
I read this as a collection of observations about how people behave around power: at court, in an organization, or with a boss. Each rule comes with a story from the past. They don’t have to be read in order, and I wasn’t looking for a unified theory.
Many rules rely on familiar reactions: fear of losing one’s position, a desire for recognition, and sensitivity to signs of respect or dismissal.
Much of it was recognizable in ordinary relationships. I took the laws as reminders to consider other people’s expectations, vulnerabilities, and interpretations of my actions. Showing off intellectually in front of a boss or their circle may feel threatening to them. Falling out of sight may be interpreted as becoming less important, even when nothing has formally changed.
I didn’t take the rules as instructions to behave that way. I found it more useful to notice where conflicts arise, why they escalate, and what people signal to one another. The book helped me pay closer attention to relationships around me.
2. A Brief History of Intelligence (Max Solomon Bennett)
The book traces the development of intelligence from simple life forms to humans. I liked its attempt to explain that history through gradual changes. It starts with basic ways of navigating an environment, finding food, and responding to favorable or dangerous conditions.
These patterns become more complex, but the underlying logic remains: a system explores its environment, conserves resources, or responds to a threat. The author connects these ancient mechanisms with human responses to stress, motivation, and a sense of safety.
In the discussion of the brain, I was struck by the idea of repeating modules in the cerebral cortex. In that account, differences between visual, auditory, and language areas depend heavily on the signals they receive.
This connects with modern neural networks: some parts generate predictions, while others compare them with reality. Prediction error becomes a key signal, like the surprise we feel when we stumble or an action has an unexpected result.
Another thread is the idea that the brain keeps predicting and, in a sense, “hallucinating,” with sensory information correcting those predictions. When that input weakens or disappears, predictions can take on a life of their own. It reminded me of generative models in AI, from GANs to diffusion models.
The book made me more interested in intelligence as a capacity that gradually became more complex through evolution. I particularly enjoyed looking for connections between simple organisms, the brain, and artificial systems.
3. The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck (Mark Manson)
The central idea is that we worry about too many things, making it difficult to see what really matters to us.
The book asks us to decide honestly what matters and focus on it. Through its examples, it moves toward a less comfortable subject: our tendency to think of ourselves as exceptional.
Manson suggests accepting that we’re probably fairly ordinary. There is an advantage to that. When I don’t expect myself to be exceptional, it’s easier to handle failure and keep learning. I can see more clearly how much effort a result takes and why it isn’t guaranteed.
If you eventually achieve more, you understand how you got there. That experience helps after setbacks, too: you already know you can learn and start again.
4. Game Theory (Brian Clegg)
The book explains the main ideas of game theory in plain language. There is little mathematics and plenty of real-world examples, from the bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki to Britain’s loss of credibility after failing to carry out its threats.
What stayed with me was how a choice changes when you expect many more encounters with the same people. A decision that works in one episode may work poorly across a long series.
Take “chicken,” where two cars drive toward each other and the first driver to swerve loses. Swerving avoids a collision, but repeated concessions can affect your reputation. The other person may start expecting you to give way next time. A willingness to carry out a threat also affects their decisions, although the risk of a collision doesn’t disappear.
“Chicken” is only one example. Although game theory often comes up in politics, it can apply to everyday life, including parenting. If someone successfully pressures you once, they may try again.
5. The Art of Seduction (Robert Greene)
This feels like a companion to The 48 Laws of Power, with more attention to relationships with a particular person or group. It describes several broad styles of seduction, each with strengths and weaknesses.
Many of the techniques begin with studying the other person: what they want, what they lack, and what kind of attention they value. The book also emphasizes how excessive availability and eagerness to please can diminish your standing in someone’s eyes. More manipulative techniques, such as abrupt changes of mood or deliberately provoking conflict, are described without much effort to justify or condemn them.
6. The Anxious Generation (Jonathan Haidt)
The book examines how the internet, followed by smartphones and social media, has affected teenagers and older generations. It draws on research, statistics, and personal accounts.
Haidt connects overprotection and the drive to make playgrounds completely safe with a lack of practice making independent decisions. He also considers how the move toward online learning and homework has affected different social groups. The book could be useful to parents and schools alike.
7. Beyond Order (Jordan Peterson)
In this follow-up to 12 Rules for Life, Peterson spends more time on living with disorder and the place it has in our lives.
I remember the idea that finding something new requires going beyond familiar order. At the same time, you need a stable base: if you undermine it completely, exploration becomes much harder. I read this as an argument for gradual change.
8. We Who Wrestle with God (Jordan Peterson)
Peterson explores the Old Testament through religion, philosophy, and social life. What stayed with me most was the discussion of personal responsibility and how people harm themselves through their own actions.
He examines Cain’s story as an example of using resentment toward God to justify one’s own failures. That resentment prevents Cain from seeing his part in what happens. Pride is central to the book’s account of other sins, from sloth to blasphemy.
9. Ego Is the Enemy (Ryan Holiday)
As the title suggests, the book is about how ego gets in our way, whether through certainty that we’re right or an inability to recognize our mistakes.
For me, it was a reminder to think before speaking, especially when I’m tempted to point out someone else’s error immediately. Proving myself right can take so much effort that little is left for the work itself. I recognized my own mistakes in that.
10. Meditations (Marcus Aurelius)
Many thoughts in this book reminded me of biblical ideas about personal responsibility for one’s life.
Marcus Aurelius keeps returning to simple principles: do what is within your power; don’t complain; the gods have given you what you need; only the present exists; people are as they are, and we should accept them. His mention of Christianity is rather dismissive of its religious form, although he does not criticize the underlying ideas.
11. Cues (Vanessa Van Edwards)
Vanessa Van Edwards writes about nonverbal communication: eye contact, pauses, posture, and movement. These are signals we often respond to without noticing.
The book helped me recognize when a conversation was drawing to a close and when the other person was interested. That proved useful in everyday conversations.
12. The Next Conversation (Jefferson Fisher)
Fisher discusses active listening through stories from his own life. I remember a simple piece of advice: before answering an objection, try to understand what is bothering the other person.
Sometimes that eases tension and the feeling of not being heard. Sometimes it reveals a deeper conflict behind the initial objection. Several ideas overlap with other books on this list.
13. Dopamine Nation (Anna Lembke)
I picked this up after a recommendation in The Anxious Generation. It is about pleasure, pain, and their influence on our behavior.
The image that stayed with me was a balance between pleasure and pain. Lembke uses it to explain why continually seeking pleasure can bring less and less satisfaction. It gave me a reason to examine my own habits.
I was also interested in her discussion of voluntary discomfort, such as physical exertion. I took it as an extension of the same idea: constantly avoiding unpleasant feelings doesn’t necessarily make life more enjoyable.
14. Never Split the Difference (Chris Voss)
A former FBI negotiator describes negotiation through stories from his career. He pays particular attention to pauses, open-ended questions, and listening before presenting your own position.
The approach reduces anxiety and builds trust. The book offers ways to find better outcomes than a compromise that satisfies neither side, sometimes for both parties and at least for yourself.
Later, while reading The Art of the Deal, I often thought of this book as I recognized the techniques in use. I could have skipped a couple of other books on this list and kept this one.
15. The Prince (Niccolò Machiavelli)
A classic work on political struggle. The many historical references made it difficult to read, but the overall argument was clear enough.
After The 48 Laws of Power, much of The Prince felt familiar. Despite its reputation as a manual for political infighting and manipulation, I read it as a pragmatic account of how people behave when competing for resources. Many of its conclusions seemed applicable to everyday life.
While reading, I thought about Moses suppressing a rebellion; about Beyond Order and the idea that chaos can exist at a system’s boundaries but destroy it at the center; about accounts of Native American tribes destroying defeated tribes; and about governments being replaced during presidential transitions. I saw a similar argument in these examples: preserving the whole sometimes calls for radical and unpleasant decisions.
16. The Courage to Be Disliked (Ichiro Kishimi, Fumitake Koga)
An introduction to Adlerian psychology, presented as a dialogue between a philosopher and a young man. I liked how the ideas emerge through questions and objections. That works particularly well in audio: you listen to the conversation and have time to argue with its participants.
One of the book’s main ideas is to examine behavior through its present purpose, even when that purpose is unclear or destructive. The authors suggest looking at fears this way too: what responsibility or conflict do they help us avoid? The unfamiliarity of this approach made it memorable.
The book also introduces “tasks” and the separation of responsibility. To work out whose task something is, the authors ask who will live with the consequences of the decision. Homework is the student’s task; work is the worker’s. You can help someone without taking over their responsibility. Here I found echoes of biblical parables and Stoic thought.
17. On Democracies and Death Cults (Douglas Murray)
I originally bought this for the British English: I liked the author’s vocabulary and way of speaking. But the subject soon became more important than the language practice.
The book describes the Hamas attack on Israel on October 7, 2023, its aftermath, and the Western response. It includes many accounts from witnesses and people who worked at the sites afterward. The detail makes it difficult to read, but I don’t regret reading it.
18. The Concrete Mixer (Ray Bradbury)
A short story about Martians who try to conquer Earth and are defeated by its pleasures.
It made me think about overconsumption, Sparta, and China. There is a view that the influx of gold after the Peloponnesian War contributed to Sparta’s decline. China, meanwhile, repeatedly absorbed its conquerors, turning them into ordinary administrators. A cautionary story.
19. Trump: The Art of the Deal (Donald Trump)
Like many books on this list, I listened to this one. The narrator reproduced the author’s intonation, making the stories more vivid.
Much of the book is autobiographical. The deal stories help explain how the author accounts for his decisions. I saw neither a political genius nor an embodiment of evil in this portrayal, but someone who worked hard, compromised where he considered it acceptable, and held firm on what mattered to him.
I kept thinking of Never Split the Difference and Game Theory. I was glad I’d read those before this one.
20. Supercommunicators (Charles Duhigg)
What stayed with me most in this book about communication was its attention to questions. A good conversationalist takes an interest in others, helps them join in, and makes them feel heard.
Afterward, I found it easier to notice this in work conversations. Most teams have a few people who keep bringing others into the discussion, asking about their experiences and impressions, and helping them say more. I did want to shorten parts of the book: useful practical chapters sit alongside long digressions about society that obscure the main point.
Conclusion
When I started writing this, I thought I’d mostly been reading about people. Now it seems I was reading about my own mistakes.
I’m curious what next year’s list will look like.