100 Books Like Fewer

Eric was my PhD supervisor and was finishing the book as I began my thesis. This gave me a chance to have an insight into the thinking and the process behind the book’s creation as well as an opportunity to read the manuscript. Combining serious analysis of the data with an astute and observative reading of big global trends, this book sets out one of the most important trends underway today—the burgeoning numbers in strict, world-denying bearing a large number of children and able to hang onto them. A decade on, as secular birth rates plummet, the thesis is more valid than ever.

It takes real historic breadth to write a comprehensive history of the nineteenth century and only a historian of the quality of Evans could pull it off so convincingly. Like his mentor Eric Hobsbawm—but unencumbered by the Marxian straight-jacket—Evans masterfully draws the links not only between decades and between countries and continents but also between the social, the economic, and the political. His book is no demographic history, but it takes demography seriously. This really matters in a century in which the Malthusian bonds were broken for some of humanity, not all of it, making it a period of European global supremacy underpinned by demographic takeoff, the effects of which we are still feeling.

Simon was something of a prophet who felt that he had a contrarian worldview that the world needed to know about. His basic idea is that the human brain is the ultimate resource and that with the right application and opportunity, humans can solve so many of the serious problems that environmentalism and the limits on resources throw at us. I cannot say that I agree with Simon on everything, nor that his optimism is apt in every situation, but his is an exciting and bracing can-do-ism that sees the best in humanity once it is freed to fulfill its potential.

Shriver is an unusual combination: a contemporary novelist who is seriously interested in the big socio-economic changes going on in the world and writes razor-sharp columns. Although not her best-known book (that title must belong to We Need to Talk about Kevin), The Mandibles is I think her best. In contrast to the optimism of Julian Simon cited above, Shriver looks into a dystopian future in which (among many other things) more Mexicans are trying to leave the US than arrive and inflation takes off again. All the while, civilisation breaks down. Taking this book and Simon’s together—an unlikely duo—you have in a nutshell technical optimism, civilisational pessimism. The Mandibles is also, like most of her work, hilarious.

This is a great textbook as well. But it has two important advantages.

First, it came out 10 years later than Why Nations Fail, therefore covering so much more recent research in this very vibrant field of interdisciplinary work on what drives and what slows down economic development.

Second, while the authors have worked on these issues themselves, they are much less focused on one of the explanations of development and provide a more balanced view of the field.

Very informative read even for those who (like me) have already read a lot on the subject. A treasure of previously unknown stories of development and underdevelopment to discuss with friends and students. 

Fortunately, we are not the first generation that faces the challenge of rethinking and remaking the humanities in light of new concerns. If this volume shows anything, it is how thoroughly the postwar American humanities changed in just a couple of decades, due to increasing enrollment numbers, political demands for area studies (e.g., Soviet studies, Chinese studies), and the rise of fields like women’s studies and Black studies. What I find stimulating about this collection of essays is also its rich array of methodologies, from quantitative approaches (how did enrollment numbers change?) to curriculum analysis (what textbooks were assigned?) We need more books like this, about other periods and different parts of the world, if only to remind us that the humanities are always subject to remaking and reimagining.

This quite heavy volume covers a wide range of 37 chapters that focus on the most important topics related to global ageing.

Contributions delivered by experts from areas such as sociology, economics, demography, social policy, public health, and public administration are divided into two categories: challenges and practitioner perspectives.

On the one hand, the authors provide introductions to studies and policy contexts on demographic change, pensions, health, and welfare.

On the other hand, the collection contains a selection of international case studies, policy innovations, and examples of the involvement of civil society in responding to challenges related to ageing population.

Both sides are good starting points for anyone who wants to go more in-depth in the field of ageing policy.

This is where it all started, in my opinion! I believe when we are exploring new concepts, it is good to go back to the source. I love this book, and it is still penetratingly applicable and relevant 60 years on. It is basically the bible and a must-read primer. It is used as a reference for the field of Systems Theory.

In the context of society, the application of systems theory allows professionals to look holistically at conditions and environmental factors to better understand the reasons behind challenges, hardships, and choices. What’s not to like!!

The Federal Writers’ Project was one of many projects undertaken by the Works Progress Administration during the Great Depression. The American Guide Series was a subset of works produced by the Federal Writers’ Project (FWP). The books, created through a cooperative effort of both Federal and State organizations, are part travel guide, part almanac. Each includes illustrations and photographs and offers a fascinating snapshot of the 48 United States in the Union, and Alaska, in the late 1930s and early 1940s. The project employed over 6,000 writers. Many of these books have been reprinted.

This is one of the first books on Japan that I read when I moved to the country in 1997, and it still resonates with me. While still a college student, Alex Kerr buys a rundown farmhouse in the Iya Valley of Shikoku, re-thatches it, and maintains the traditional Japanese architecture of pre-WWII Japanese wooden houses.

Kerr went on to write many more books on Japan, most of which have become classics. He is the foundation of the akiya movement, lectures widely around the archipelago, and is responsible for revitalizing country villages around Japan.