8 Books Like Bonds Without Borders

Folks familiar with the term “neoliberalism” usually describe it as the economic system that tries to unleash the market by getting the government out of the way. I like Globalists because it shows how unleashing the market demands that government gets in the way—of workers’ rights, movements for equality, and, most ominously, democracy itself. Since it’s impossible to understand fascism without tackling capitalism, a book explaining how we got to today’s market principles is vital.

I see this book as a history of the neoliberal economists who encouraged political leaders to use state violence and repression to unleash free trade and shape the global economy. Globalists tell the story of how modern capitalism developed into today’s vast landscape of inequality that makes a fertile ground for fascism and violent extremism to develop.

Browsing my shelves in preparation for this book list, this one in particular jogged my memory as an important influence on my own book, an influence so internalized that I completely forgot about and never cited it! I remedy that lapse here. 

My copy of the book is heavily underlined with lots of stars in the margin, so I know it was important. You can see from the title that the author is concerned with the same tension between money and empire, he as a historian and me as an economist.

Now that I have finished my own book, I’ll be rereading this early influence to engage with its argument more deeply and directly. 

My own book title is explicitly an homage to this book, which tells the story of the sterling standard in its heyday. 

It is my dream that readers will put my book next to this one on their bookshelves, reading mine as a continuation of the story that DeCecco tells so masterfully. He is more economic historian, and I am more historian of economic ideas, so the books are different (and his original was in Italian), but they can be read as in conversation with one another. 

This is another book that I look forward to rereading, now that I know more, and engaging more deeply and systematically.

This book tells the story of the global expansion of the dollar system after the collapse of Bretton Woods from the perspective of the BIS, the global central bank.

Created in 1930, as a last-ditch effort to backstop the sterling system (among other reasons), the story of the BIS runs parallel to the story I tell in my book.  This morning in class I asked my students, most of them international relations majors, if any of their other courses had mentioned the BIS, and not a single hand went up. Hence this recommendation!

Kindleberger worked at the BIS 1939-1940 and might well have made it his permanent home had not World War II intervened, and sent him back home to the Fed.  

When a friend told me about this book, I was immediately taken by the title. Who could resist? The novel reads like a dream; it took me a little while to get situated in time and space but in a deliciously languid way.

I loved the way the author considers the intimate ways that bureaucracy and authoritarianism work themselves into one person’s daily life and the creaky after-effects of British bureaucracy across the former Empire. I appreciated that nothing is idealized here; no one comes out looking pretty.

I love the way this book peels back the layers of a mother’s choices and the scrutiny she faces for them.

Hillary Jules, the mother at the center of this story, does things some might find unforgivable. And yet we see, through both her and the woman who becomes a surrogate mother figure to one of her children, how we cannot know the full depth of another’s story.

This book reminded me how dangerous it can be to judge from the outside with phrases like “I would never.” Those judgments came much easier before I became a mother myself.

This is actually a children’s novel that I first read at school, and it had a big impact on me. It’s not so well known, and there are other books called "The Guardians", so don’t get confused. This novel was written in 1970 and is set in the not-so-distant 2050.

The world that John Christopher created for this novel really captured my imagination, the difference between the overpopulated "Conurbs" (from conurbation) and the privileged "County" (a land of rolling hills and manor houses).

It’s not too far-fetched, and I think that’s why it spoke to me, as I could easily envisage the world of 13-year-old Rob Randall, who dreamed of escaping the state boarding school in the Conurbs to go to the County. Rob doesn’t fit in and digs a hole under the Barrier that separates the two worlds.

A classic from Australia’s greatest contributor to the theory of international politics. One needs a coherent framework within which to place current events, and Bull’s perfectly titled book provides it.

Yes, world politics is anarchical because there is no ‘global cop.’ But anarchy does not mean chaos. There is enough order in the international realm to consider it a ‘society’ with its own store of conventions, rituals, and traditions—a humane but skeptical book that disdains simple solutions to world affairs.