Thoughts on Books, Q2'25

The target of one book a week is looking, right now, like quite a difficult one to meet. I would hope to catch up over the summer, but my pile consists of several quite lengthy books. This, unfortunately, lowers the overall count. To that end, and for my own entertainment, I have decided to compare pages between this quarter, and last. Last quarter I read 3,178 pages. This quarter I read 2,527. So, yeah... kind of off the pace. Here's a theme of this quarter's reading: everything is out-of-date. I've been writing lots of stuff which isn't 'old' so far as it is about things which have progressed, changed, moved on, and so on. This puts me in a bit of a bind, because on the one hand, I really value reading older works, and generally think new books (published in the past few years) are quite bad, and do not match the same level of scholarship as older books (I was born in the wrong generation, etc.). On the other hand, I find myself having to do a lot of work to translate old ideas to newer problems, which while intellectually stimulating also runs the risk of just totally misunderstanding something.

I also have the problem of having bought too many books, recently. The trouble here is some charity shops are very good for selling very strange things for pennies at a time. So, I'm going to adapt my whole 'what I'm reading' list a little bit, into a 'what I am actually going to read' list. This is a list of 12 books, which is helpful when trying to read one a week, and a good mix of short and long (from about 100 pages to 1,000).

To read:
1. Strategy: A History, Lawrence Freedman
2. Not in Our Genes, Rose, Kamin and Lewontin
3. The Price of Civilization, Jeffrey Sachs
4. The Peter Principle, Peter and Hull
5. When China Rules the World, Martin Jacques
6. The Technology Fallacy, various
7. The History and Power of Writing, Henri-Jean Martin
8. How the World Made the West, Josephine Quinn
9. The New Makers of Modern Strategy, Hal Brands (editor)
10. Superintelligence, Nick Bostrom
11. Korolev, James Harford
12. Pursuing the Knowledge Economy, Nick O'Donovan

Organizations, James March and Herbert Simon

I was fortunate enough to receive a copy of Organizations for free as compensation for writing something. As a fan of Herbert Simon, this book is one of those staples which pops up every so often. It is also quite old--1958--making it something I doubt is read that much today. The date matters, in my opinion, because the book does feel dated. There is a whole introduction talking about methods, quantitative and qualitative, and also talking about a lack of data or empirical results. As a result, the book is build around hypotheses which were perhaps very stimulating at the time. Unfortunately, reading the book now, it lacks something. It feels extremely academic. There is none of the shrewd, almost dry sense of humour writing which pervades a book like The Sciences of the Artificial, or even Simon's Administrative Behavior. This is unfortunate, as those things are needed to wade through the density which often is Simon's writing. I'm a bit surprised Organizations is so flatly dry, as I have read some of James March's papers, too, and I like how he writes, too. I just it was just the time? I wouldn't really recommend reading this book, unless you are a 'Simon scholar.' It is not that engaging, and almost certainly grossly out-of-date within organisational studies.

Technology Matters, David Nye

I acquired this book in a charity shop. I wasn't really looking for it, but I noticed it was published by MIT Press, who a) are my favourite academic publisher; and b) are not that cheap. So, I brought Technology Matters and Does Technology Drive History? (see below, also an MIT Press title) on a whim. I figured I would probably get something out of Nye's book, and I think I did. The subtitle of the book is Questions to Live With, which is also the broad structure of the book. In each chapter, Nye addresses latest (2007) thinking about a big technology question. These are things like 'What is Technology?', 'Is Technology Predictable?', 'Should Technology be Left to the Market?' They are all questions I do think are interesting, and my notes seem to reflect this. Besides Nye's chapters on work and security, both of which have an out-of-date feeling today, my notes on the questions are pretty consistent. Nye himself writes with a respectable kind of arrogance, and I picked up on some of his references insofar as I was already planning on reading some of the stuff he cites. Thus, I was generally quite taken with Nye's ideas and the way he puts them across. I would say, having now read Does Technology Drive History? and having read a lot of books that didn't exist in 2007, Nye's work does feel a bit redundant today. And, academically, I do wonder who the book was for then? So, here's my wild conspiracy theory. MIT Press have a great series called the Essential Knowledge Series, and I think it started around 2015. I think Nye's book, and probably others like it, are spiritual precursors to that series. In my head, that makes sense. Technology Matters doesn't really build to a thesis or final conclusion. It is much more an introduction to different literatures around technology and society, with a strong bibliography and an authoritative author. That's kind of the formula for an Essential Knowledge book, and I think that is what Technology Matters if it were published today.

Civilisation and Its Discontents, Sigmund Freud

I bought a copy of this book at the same time I bought a copy of Marcuse's Eros and Civilisation (which is a response to Freud). At the time, I was on a bit of a 'civilisation' kick--I planned to read a whole load of theorists who have written about 'what civilisation is,' but I did not ultimately get around to that project. I'm not sure it's too interesting a topic for me right now--it's a big of a grand topic, meaning any contribution I might make would be quite diluted. Though, I might return to it one day. The reason I read this book, in my pile of 'books about civilisation,' is that I always feel bad for buying books and leaving them rotting on the shelves for months or years. So, I try to dip in and out, to read erratically, and so on. That is what I was doing with Civilisation and Its Discontents.

This is probably Freud's most famous book. It's quite short, so I would probably encourage people to give it a go, even though I'm not sure there's too much I found that valuable in it. The most interesting chapter is chapter 2, where Freud discusses his ideas on happiness. Chapter 1 is, in my opinion, indecipherable, so I was pleasantly surprised at both the shift in topic and accessiblility. I am unsure how much of the current happiness literature has engaged in Freud, or whether it would even be worthwhile, but I found the idea of happiness simply being a return to a state of satisfaction quite interesting. When I was reading the book, some people asked me if the book was just about incest, because that's kind of what Freud is known for by some people. Based on my reading of this book alone, I think that's a mischaracterisation of Freud's perspective. Nevertheless, Freud's musings on the family as the foundation stone of civilisation comes out of nowhere, and represents--for me--quite a stark encounter between logically coherent madness. It is logically coherent insofar as, if one accepts Freud's various premises about the primordial nuclear family and their urges, you can kind of see how one might draw conclusions about, say, the mother being the son's prototypical lustful desire, the father (possessive of the mother) being the son's prototypical enemy, the brother (who shares the son's lust and resent) being the son's ally against the father, and so on, could lead to a 'theory of civilisation' whereby the son's discover cooperation to topple the father. I am not even particularly adverse to Freud's contention that this means civilisation is based, to a large extent, on violence, and furthermore, that civilisation necessitates each of us surrendering to one another in pursuit of base urges, and that these conditions (violence, surrender, and urge) lead us to self-destruction (the 'death drive'). But... why start with a nuclear family? Now, he does this because of Adam and Eve, Cain and Abel. It is a fundementally biblical foundation. But this is not scientific. It's not even interesting fiction. Research into chimpanzee communities shows such tremendous social complexity, such interesting dynamics compared to the 'nuclear family' Freud holds as being the base unit of human civilisation. Sure, Freud might not have been privy to such insights, but he was a human being himself. Did he not see the complex dynamics of human civilisation, and wonder whether there might be something more complex than the mad starting point of the 'nuclear family'? Probably, but reading Freud, I do not get the sense of a person with a huge amount of respect for people. Interest, sure, but respect... less so. Maybe I am wrong.

The Dawn of Eurasia, Bruno Macaes

I had never heard of Bruno Macaes, though he appears to be an established figure on the Europe-Asia circuit and within European politics. I grabbed a copy of this on a whim, and for pretty cheap, from a charity shop. Given I've been on something of a strategy/geopolitics kick in the past year, I thought there might be something to it. Generally, I really enjoyed this book. I do worry that, even coming out in 2016, it is now out-of-date, but the book also presents some very interesting ideas that I've been thinking a lot about. In particular, given 2025's developing geopolitical landscape.

The first, and perhaps the one I am least receptive to, if the idea that the development of Eurasia as an economic and political block can be analysed without paying too much attention to the role of the US. Macaes argues that the US is best understood as an adaptive power, one that warps itself to the practice of others, in order to achieve personal advantage. For instance, Macaes would contend that, if tomorrow Eurasia became hyper-protectionist, the US (over time) would follow in its footsteps. For Macaes, the US does not ever really lead, but rather strategically follow. They are the perpetual counterparty. Macaes supports this assertion through some history, but a lot of geography. Basically, Eurasia is so massive, and so populous, that despite US idealism, it will always have to follow the geopolitical lead of Eurasia. I partially disagree with this argument because it is a convenient argument for Macaes to make. If he does not have to really think about the US when describing a new Eurasian settlement, his job is made much easier. I'm not sure, though, the US really will play the 'follow the leader' role of follower... but Macaes analysis does, in my opinion, lean towards longer term trends rather than short term political actions. Certainly, the Trump administration is undermining Macaes' assertion. But the investment plans of the Biden administration perhaps did not, and even Trump's withdrawal from Europe (to an extent) suggest a more isolationist (and thus 'follower') role for the US in the 21st century.

The second is that of competitive integration. In Macaes' argument, Eurasia remains a landmass divided between countries, blocs, and cultural centres, which is something I think is realistic. This begs the question, though, of how a more coherent 'Eurasian' model could form, when so many competing powers would surely want to dominate. The answer Macaes offers is the idea of competitive integration. It is an idea initially presented as quite a big contribution, then it disappears, before returning in a much diminished form--I do wonder whether this was a rogue idea Macaes 'forgot' about as he wrote the book. This would be a shame, as I think it's a very powerful idea. As I understand it, competitive integration arises when powers (countries, trading blocs, etc.) implement conditions upon one another as part of their trading and political relationship, to train and influence the other to adopt their rules, standards, and perhaps most importantly, values. Macaes gives the example of a Russian airline forced to adopt new standards, or face not operating in the EU (which would obviously be devastating). The airline thus adopted the standards, and then started lobbying Russia itself to do so, as that airline was at a domestic disadvantage compared to non-EU operating Russian airlines. Another, cuter, example is that of attached bottle tops in the UK. The UK is not subject to the EU's attached bottletop rule, to encourage more recycling of recyclable plastics. But all the bottles in the UK now have the attached bottletop. Why? Because the UK is too small, relatively to the EU, to warrant ane exception. The EU's size allows it to project standards onto the UK. This would be like the Russian example if, for instance, the UK had a major soft drinks manufacturer who sold to the EU, and thus had to abide by this standard, creating an incentive for it to the lobby the UK to adopt the standard as well. Under competitive integration, rival powers remain rivalrous, and compete, but competition is an exercise as part of their integration. This is the crucial difference, I think. When Japan surrendered in WWII, the US imposed a set of cultural standards alongside economic values. This was not competitive integration, in my opinion, because while there had been a 'competiton' of sorts, in the form of the war, and while Japan was subsequently integrated into the US-led economic order, the Japanese adoption of US standards, rules, and values was not one of a relationship between rivals. It lacked the strategic aspect of multinational interests influencing national one's to benefit the multinationals. It was one of domination. On the other hand, consider Japanese influence in terms of just-in-time manufacturing. US car makers could not compete in Japanese markets in part due to price competition, so had to adopt Japanese manufacturing ideas to boost productivity. The same may be more subtly true of Japanese or Korean cultural exports. It is a useful idea, too, for analysing China's increasing projection of its values on the world stage (though Elizabeth Economy's book, discussed below, does not use the term competitive integration--it appears to be a Macaesism, with the closest idea I could find being the 'Brussels Effect').

The third is the importance of Central Asia and the Middle-East in an emerging Eurasian power bloc. Macaes notes how trade, by land or sea, between Europe and China is dependent upon a corridor spanning from Pakistan to Turkey and Greece. The same is true of Europe and India. For Macaes, the fate of Eurasian will hinge on the effective development and integration of these overland routes into the supply chains of these two (three) superpower economic blocs. The Dawn of Eurasian spends a lot of time describing Macaes' travels around Central Asia, and it is extremely interesting. But I find the idea more interesting from a US perspective. If I were an American geopolitical strategist, interested in maintaining American hegemony in the twenty-first century, I could do one of two things. Firstly, I could reorientate my entire foreign policy to planning for a war with China. This strategy is all about taking out the new kid on the block who threatens your 'popularity,' to strain a metaphor. Secondly, I could channel my foreign policy to undermine and destabilise countries along this Central Asian and Middle-Eastern block. This strategy means I leave the new kid alone, but the new kid will have no friends to play with, so they cannot aspire to being as 'popular' as me. Casual spectators might think the US is following the second strategy. Afghanistan, Pakistan, Iran, Iraq, Syria, Turkey (and more) all find themselves is geopolitically difficult, if not dangerous, places. One of the main producers of instability in this region is Israel, whose aggressive actions against several of these nations are enabled by the US. The US, of course, has also invaded Iraq, and more recently bombed Iran. The Obama administration escalated a drone campaign spanning as far as Pakistan, a campaign which has never really gone away. Economic sanctions against many of these countries are led by the US, while the major Arab power in the region--Saudi Arabia--is a close ally and weapons procurer of the US. Turkey--always a dynamic player in terms of geopolitics--is a member of NATO, and has its own reasons to agitate in areas like Northern Syria and Iraq. A collapse of the Iranian state (say, due to Western intervention), would create refugee crises for the Middle-East and Central Asia, as well as Pakistan, which would also see an uptick is Baloch agitation for independence. It may therefore surprise a reader to know that a) I do not think the strategy of destablisation is quite so choreographed as an ex post analysis might imply; and b) I think the US is definitely planning for strategy one (target China) than strategy two (target everyone else). What matters, though, is that the US cannot do both--it is why the US bombing of Iran made no sense, geopolitically as well as morally (though I have a theory as to why the US bombed Iran, and it is not that Trump is dumb). In the context of a book review, Macaes ideas allow one to see that, in 2025, the US has geopolitical choices. But this is also why I am critical of Macaes assuming the US will be a 'follower' in the 21st century. The US's choices will almost certainly be essential components of the Eurasian nexus which this century will see emerge.

Does Technology Determine History?, edited by Merritt Roe Smith and Leo Marx

I was quite ignorant of this book when I bought it, but it seems upon further reading that Does Technology Determine History? is something of a classic text in the history of technology space. It is frequently cited by Nye in Technology Matters, even to the extent that one of my notes in that book was to read a particular chapter in this book. That chapter was Hughes' chapter on technological momentum, which is both an intuitive idea and one I am not sure I fully understand. Basically, Hughes argues that technologies can appear inevitable (e.g., deterministic) only because technologies have momentum which shape both imaginaries and the physical world. Once we have electricity, many other technologies become available, and so those technologies appear pre-determined--but really, it's because electricity has momentum, and if we're using electricity, we're probably also going to be using things that use electricity. There's probably more nuance to this argument, though, which is why I say I am not sure I fully understand it. The whole book is full of interesting contributions like Hughes'--many chapters by different authors commenting on the same game, the titular question of technology and determinism. Though, I can't say I found many that interesting, at least in comparison to Hughes' chapter. The opening chapter by Smith is a great foundation--it is full of a lot of interesting history. Others, though, were not that resonant with me, but I don't think that's too unusual. A book consisting of many different authors will, inevitability, have ebbs and flows in quality as well as the interest it engenders in a reader.

The Information, James Gleick

For many people, James Gleick will be best known as the author of Chaos, the popular book on the development of chaos theory. In several ways, I think The Information is quite a lot like Chaos, both in its pros and its cons. Given they are written by the same author, I suppose this should not be too surprising. The Information is about the history of information theory. It (rightly) situates Claude Shannon as its main character, and it is here that the first (positive) comparison with Chaos comes from. Shannon is presented as a very accessible character. This is not a biographical book, and Shannon remains very shallow. But Gleick is very good at getting a warm-glow effect out of a reader, through central 'characters,' in much in the same way Benoit Mandelbrot is the central 'character' of Chaos. The second (negative) comparison is the content of the book itself. In Chaos, there was never really a point where I exactly got it. Reading those who have publicly praised Gleick's work, like Robert Sapolsky, I do feel I have been able to 'get' chaos theory. But I did not from Gleick. The same is kind of true of The Information. I know more about information theory, people like Godel and ideas like recursion, so I did not feel as lost as I remember feeling when I read Chaos. But there are definitely moments in The Information where a reader would go 'huh?' I know, because there were moments when I went 'huh?' Gleick, for all his talents of creating a narrative and populating it with accessible characters, has--from my experience--failed twice to really nail the key 'eureka' moment one wants from these books. I sincerely believe a reader could finish The Information and not really know what information is, or why it seems so important to so many people. But, I think, they'd still be entertained.

My last point is about the pacing of the book. The book finishes right as the narrative really starts to get going. At 400 pages, there should be enough space to discuss more contemporary stuff, but the contemporary is left to the sidelines. The book is over just when a reader feels like they've done all the background reading needed to get to the actual meat-and-potatoes. I think this is a shame, because more contemporary discussion might help a reader reach that 'eureka' moment where things click. Unfortunately, Gleick is much more of a historian in this regard. The history is dense, and rich, and multifaceted. I have not read enough of him to say for certain, but I suspect Gleick prefers to say away from commenting on more immediate matters, to which the science of books might relate.

Understanding Power, Noam Chomsky

One of the things which might get my 'radical' card revoked (amongst many others, I am sure) is that I have read very little Noam Chomsky in my life. Years ago, perhaps when I was a teenager, I read Chomsky's Because We Say So, a short collection of his essays and columns. I've watched quite a few of his lectures, and read some notes on his ideas over the years, though never anything substantial. Years ago, my local bookshop was selling off a complete collection of Chomsky for quite cheap, and I still regret not buying it. When I saw Understanding Power in my local charity shop, that regret encouraged me to pick this up. It is much longer than something like Because We Say So, and a different format--it is transcriptions of interviewes and Q&A sessions with Chomsky. It's also quite old--there is a note about how 9/11 had just happened, and about how that obviously could put the discussions in a new (not necessarily wrong) light.

I really liked this book. The discussions cover a whole range of things, so I'll get a bit more personal about why I like the book. Firstly, Chomsky comes across as a person. He is authoritative in many ways, but also I think quite humble. I was struck at how consistently he fails to give strategic advice, or to outline a programme of political change. I have no doubt that he could, if he wanted to. But his wider point is that it's not really for him to exploit his authority to mobilise people. He consistently appeals to one's basic sense of right and wrong, and emphasises the importance of acting very simply on what one believes to be right. He makes arguments, in various ways, about the self-destructive and self-alienating nature of going against one's own morality, and constantly pushing down one's sense of justice and fairness. This resonated with me quite a lot, because a) I have a degree of intellectual responsibility in my current position which I take quite seriously, no matter how small my influence might be; and b) I am a coward who regularly finds myself believing things which if expressed could see myself and others suffer professional penalties. I must work on b) myself; there is no one who can change my nature. But I do think Chomsky's arguments have animated something in me, to embrace my radicalism a bit more. Too many serious matters are unfolding before our eyes to tiptoe around these issues any more. This is not a call to abandon nuance or critical thinking. But, for myself, I do see Chomsky's perspective as a reminder that nuance and critical thinking cannot transform an injustice into a justice. Justice can only be achieved by people, working together, towards that ideal.

Something more specifically about Understanding Power, which resonated with me, is Chomsky's view of intellectualism. I guess this relates to point a). I have broadly understood for a while that Chomsky believes adequate access to learning, and opportunities to do so, can enable us to live in a rational, democratic society free of many of the coercive forces which exist today. Knowledge, and critical thinking, are important pillars of Chomsky's worldview. I very much agree with this perspective. In Understanding Power, Chomsky is asked about public intellectuals, what public intellectuals can and should do, and so on. And, to my surprise, he rejects the idea of the intellectual entirely. His argument is that setting someone up as an 'intellectual' at the same time transforms other kinds of knowledge, and other ways of knowing, into something less valuable and inferior. For Chomsky, intellectualism, if it is to exist, must be acknowledged in each of us, and we cannot construct hierarchies of expertise. I think I am explaining this badly. I highlight it because I very much agree with this sentiment, and it is something I have tried to bring to my own classroom (unfortunately, I see ever greater deference to things like my title and position, and I worry about the future). I also highlight it because, not unsurprisingly, it is a very anarchist position to adopt.

This 'review' has been very rambling, but unlike other books, Understanding Power made me think a great deal, but arrive at sparringly few firm conclusions. I think that's a good thing.

The Weird and the Eerie, Mark Fisher

From one intellectual titan of the left to another, I've had a copy of Fisher's The Weird and the Eerie knocking around for a while. It is a very short book, and it suddenly struck me as silly that I have had it for years and not found the couple of days (at moost) it would take me to read it. I am generally a fan of Mark Fisher, and I understand why his writing has had such a profound impact on some members of the political left, particularly in Britain. I also understand that he is not always the clearest of writers, and that his politics is often lingering under the surface of his cultural critique. I try, when reading Fisher (or even, say, Graeber's essay on Batman), to suspend my inherent scepticism of the power of cultural critique and literary studies to reveal some meaningful political theory, and to just see where the ideas take me. Maybe I was having a bad day, but I found very little worthwhile in The Weird and the Eerie. Fisher's main point about there being a worthwhile difference between the 'weird' stuff in the world, and that which is 'eerie,' is interesting on a philosophical level. In search of a clearer political statement, his comments here and there about capitalism embodying both elements of the 'weird' and the 'eerie' is immediately much more engaging. But the latter thread does not really go anywhere in this book (I'm pretty sure the idea is more developed in other places). Overall, then, my impression becomes one of a short, high-brow book written by a man who liked watching movies and listening to post-punk music. That's fine, but I'm not sure what I'm meant to do with that.

Affluence and Freedom, Pierre Charbonnier

It is essential that I preface this review by noting that, as far as I am aware, the English version of this book is a translation from the original French. I say this because, more than anything else, I was terribly disappointed at how inpenetrable much of this book was. When one comes across a book which elicits this feeling, it is natural to ask whether one is too dumb to understand the big words and turns of phrase that are being used. I am not an expert on political theory or ecology--the topics of Affluence and Freedom--so there is every chance I am too dumb to understand this book. I have heard people praise this book, and it is without a doubt very thorough. But I just cannot really tell you what the point of this book is.

I find this very frustrating. Another thing one should do when one encounters a difficult text is to try and construct meaning for oneself. Find the bits you do understand, and try and piece these bits together into a model or story that you could tell. I think (though, of course, one cannot know) that this will result in a ballpark understanding of what the author of the difficult text was trying to convey. So, Charbonnier's book, surprisingly, is about the interplay of material affluence, on the one hand, and political freedom, on the other. He notes that the environment is the source of material affluence, and so rather than seeing political theory as some abstract subject, and the environment as something that sits outside of political theory; actually, it is the environment which provides the fuel for any political theory of freedom. If this is correct, there are big implications for perspectives like degrowth. Degrowthers already acknowledge necessary limits on some activities and consumption behaviours--does Charbonnier's assessment imply limits on political freedoms, too? Well, I don't know. Beyond my criticisms about writing style (which, again, could just be me), Charbonnier does not engage really with recent political debates about the climate. He positons himself as a historian, and a bit like Gleick, this seems to lead to a natural aversion to commenting meaningfully on things that are happening today, like degrowth, or indeed, the rise of fascism and ecofascism.

I cannot recommend Charbonnier's book. I was so looking forward to it; I was fascinated by the premise. But it is difficult to read, and hardly as useful as I thought it would be for thinking about things which are happening today. I will, probably, use it in some places, as there are some good historical comments. But, personally, I found this Affluence and Freedom quite disappointing.

The World According to China, Elizabeth Economy

I'm not sure where I first heard of Elizabeth Economy. I think I first came across The World According to China when browsing books as part of the free haul through which I got Organizations (though, I had to buy this book myself because of some distribution problem). I also saw Economy's name as a contributor to The New Makers of Modern Strategy, a long book I am slowly making my way through. So, there are two data points, which is enough to draw a connection.

The World According to China is, unsurprisingly, about China. It is good insofar as it is quite recent (2022), and I have come to understand Economy is one of the go-to China experts in and around Washington, so I consider it broadly reliable. Still, I am kind of cold on the book. The book has a subtle anti-China, pro-US vibe to it, which I don't actually mind, because I think it's essential to read across the spectrum of political perspectives. Economy is very keen to demonstrate how China is projecting its power, reshaping the world, and so on. She does not want a reader to believe China is not interested in developing overseas influence (though, every country is interested in this). So, my coldness does not come from what I perceive to be the political bent. My coldness comes from the lack of detail in many places. Economy writes exclusively on China, and she has written several books. Her other writing might have the detail I am looking for, but The World According to China comes across as a bit too shallow. I wanted more detail on how China actually works; what thinkers are influencing Chinese politics right now; how China understands its relationship with America; and so on. Instead, the book is overwhelmingly about how China is building out its influence in poorer countries, and in turn, drawing those countries diplomatically and economically closer to it. OK. Fine. Sure. Whatever. Don't all great powers do this?

I still plan on reading Martin Jacques When China Rules the World soon, and I have my eyes on a couple of other books about China which I will pick up. I will perhaps be better able to evaluate The World According to China when I have read those. Overall, I think Economy has written an interesting book, and one certainly more informed than a lot of writing on China I come across. While I think she is critical of China, she is also writing from the position of trying to fully and seriously understand China and its ambitions, which I like. This being said, I found the book a bit disposable.