Author: Andres Kabel

Bringing to bear the expertise of three prize-winning economists and policy thinkers, “Noise: A Flaw in Human Judgment” represents one strand in a long examination of how humans flail at proper logical thinking. Even when bias is eliminated as much as possible, decision-making, according to these mavens, is subject to random noise that can shift outcomes unconscionably or incorrectly. Two individual judges, both “unbiased,” can tilt sentences drastically. Decisions made after lunch differ from those enacted before. Variability is rife. The authors write smoothly and convincingly, offering sparkling case studies, and their prescriptions for improvement should be read by all executives and officials. A brief book in basic content terms, Noise is worth brewing over.

One of the most prolific writers about creativity, the mind, and issues of the mind, Eric Maisel is always stylishly entertaining to read, a fount of wisdom, and oriented towards action. I do believe I’ve read all his books, ever since one of them changed my life. Lately, the practical use to which I’ve been able to put his output has diminished, simply because I have already incorporated so many of his suggestions into my life. All that said, “Redesign Your Mind: The Breakthrough Program for Real Cognitive Change” is Maisel’s breakthrough book for the 2020s. Brilliantly and wittily written, he approaches Cognitive Behavioral Therapy—talking to yourself to your advantage—through a metaphor of a room in your mind. A brilliant notion indeed and one that is instantly usable. He offers forty ways of utilising this concept, forty spot-on techniques for mediating and moderating your mind towards better results, and I have already used half a dozen with solid success. I have lifted my mood, curbed irritation, spurred energy, reduced bitter thoughts, and hammered in improved concentration. I cannot recommend Redesign Your Mind enough: even if you deride self-help books, please, please take a look at this.

One of the modern masters of space opera sci-fi, Frank Kennedy has been fervidly unwinding his kaleidoscopic universe, The Collectorate. A new series entitled Beyond the Impossible, recounting the dying days of the once-ruling Chancellors, kicked off a fresh heroine, high-class, smart, determined Kara Syung. In “The Splinter Alliance,” Kara finds herself zooming through space to a remote planet in the company of an elite corps of soldiers from another universe; terrorists from her home planet; her uncertain ally, ex-Chancellor Ham; and an immortal warrior. Searching for clues toward the Inventor, a seemingly lunatic engineer with a terrible weapon, their sojourn on the planet plummets into a deadly chaos of intrigue and betrayal. Even more than in previous Collectorate novels, The Splinter Alliance is more about the labyrinthine politics and war strategies and sciences of the time, and the author weaves a wonderful concoction of world-building. The dialogue is whip-smart, the spaceship and planetary settings are alternately kaleidoscopic and evocative, and the plot is a rollercoaster. Buckle up: the series is superb and The Splinter Alliance is a joy to read.

Number 9 in the DI Tom Janssen series, “To Die For,” is the most deeply rewarding since the fifth instalment, Hear No Evil. This time the focus for dependable homicide copper Janssen, together with his ensemble team, is the murder of an innocuous Norfolk semi recluse. Who would possibly wish to harm such a harmless man? In the author’s capable hands, the plot plummets into bafflement and out into twist after twist of satisfying conclusions. The entertaining storyline notwithstanding, the real pleasure is the ongoing interplay of the homicide squad’s diverse members. As with the previous eight books, Norfolk is a subtly portrayed additional character. Find a comfy chair and sink into To Die For, emerging breathless at the end.

A battle-scarred veteran of to-do lists and relentless planning, I came to “Four Thousand Weeks: Time and How to Use It” with both hope and skepticism. How could journalist Oliver Burkeman add to all those authors I’ve absorbed and followed? It turns out that Burkeman is a superbly read, wise debunker of much of my wisdoms. Essentially (and here I interpret, possibly superficially) his advice is that attempting to master time, and to achieve everything we think we need to, are flawed goals and lead to stress and failure. Only by bending in the wind and accepting our finiteness can we find grounded peace, while at the same time accomplishing much. In coming to his subtle, Buddhist-infused conclusions, the author draws from a compendious range of sources from philosophy and modern self-help, both ancient and right up to the minute. Written during the pandemic, Four Thousand Weeks derives extra insights from it. The author is a wonderful stylist, cogent and rhythmic, often slyly humorous. Ever since Four Thousand Weeks, I have been reinventing my own relationship with time, including my daily systems. I recommend it.

A stylish and personable discussion of all matters ethical from the point of view of a committed vegan, “Think Like a Vegan: What Everyone Can Learn from Vegan Ethics” would be ideal reading for those recently come to veganism or intrigued by the concept. The two authors share individual views and experiences as they roam over an expansive terrain of issues, from animal adoption to fake meat to justice. As a vegetarian, not a vegan, and one who came to my dietary regime from carbon footprint perspectives, rather animal ethics, much was interesting without challenging my own framework. But I used to read Peter Singer and it was interesting to see moral points of view expressed from a dietary viewpoint. Think Like a Vegan reads compellingly and smoothly, and might be just what you need.