Sweet, bland and uplifting
Andrew Orlowski writes that Malcolm Gladwell is a guru for the brain dead.
Gladwell is a walking Readers Digest 2.0: a compendium of pop science anecdotes which boil down very simply to homespun homilies. Like the Digest, it promises more than it delivers, and like the Digest too, it's reassuringly predictable.Gladwell isn't the worst offender, but the anecdotal approach to popular science often results in a kind of pretend learning. It's something you read so you can feel on top of current research, without doing any hard work. It doesn't teach you facts, and it doesn't teach you how to think about the subject. It's like Guitar Hero. It doesn't make you a better guitar player, it just reduces guitar playing to your level.
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"...In embracing the diversity of human beings we will find the true way to human happiness."
So there you've got Gladwell in essence: he always ends with a Hallmark style greeting telling you something sweet, bland and uplifting - that you already knew.
There are a lot of good popular science books. There are two signs to look for: The first is that the book doesn't rely on anecdotes. The second is that it doesn't make you think you actually understand the subject. Science is really really hard. If you close a book thinking you understand the subject, but the part that sticks in your mind is a story about some wacky scientist, then you've read bad pop-sci. Stop doing that. It's making you dumber.
Labels: Opinion

Shikasta by Doris Lessing is the refined version of her earlier 
In the Pyat quartet, Michael Moorcock gives a voice to the fascist Europe we left behind. The voice is a Russian engineer, a conceited techno-utopist who escapes the Russian civil war with a hatred of Bolsheviks and Jews. To make Pyat merely a fascist follower would be too simple. He's rather a sibling of the fascists, like the Italian futurists, an independent thinker whose emotions find resonance with the fascist movements when they arrive, without falling in line behind any particular leader.
The only self-help book I need: The Discourses of Epictetus. Stoicism has been out of favor for a while. It's seen as emotionless and puritanical, which is true, but avoidable. You're allowed to pick the parts you like. The Stoics wouldn't approve, but they're dead. The parts I like in Stoicism deal with the power of choice, the one thing nobody can take away from you. Place your happiness and self-worth in things that are within your sphere of choice, and you will never be anxious or bitter. Doing your best is up to you, being rewarded for it isn't. It's not up to you to avoid illness, but it is up to you how you deal with it. It's an ideal: Not possible, but something to aim for.

My new movie marathon is movies made in the 1930's. Where on earth do I get them all?! Have I found some kind of buccaneers den of movies? It's a mystery! But however it happens, I always buy the good ones. I
Security after September 11 seems to be modelled on the court of the Red Queen. Absurd rules, and no sense of humor. Bruce Schneier is one of the sane voices, and Schneier on Security collects his essays on terrorism, privacy and identity theft. It is the book to read on your next plane trip.



Richard Feynman warns in QED that he cannot help the reader understand the theory of quantum electrodynamics. This is because he doesn't understand it himself. All he can do is draw arrows on a paper and ask us to accept that this is how nature works.


The Risen Empire by Scott Westerfeld could be one of Iain M. Banks's Culture novels. One of the better ones. In Banks's socialist utopia, computer minds and humans live in happy symbiosis. AI runs society, people play. Here, AI is more ambigous: The Rix cult believes that humans must create their own gods, by bringing consciousness to entire planets. They seed computer networks with AI, then worship them as gods. Humans are to these compound minds as bacteria are to a human: Necessary for the whole to function, but valueless as individuals. Against the Rix stands an ossified empire ruled by a class of living dead. They don't value individuals much either. The Risen Empire is concept-heavy space opera, but it still has a soul - a nerdy soul. There's a touching love story based on relativistic time dilation (yes!) One side character is a self-built house that has rebelled against its own architects. Much of the fighting takes place among microscopic military crafts controlled by remote. You get the idea. Not great, but strange and likeable, and tightly focused. I'll continue with the second book in the series, and I've heard people rave about the Young Adult novels Westerfeld turned to writing 
