100 Books Like Giving Voice to Values

This book, a classic of the atomic age, knocked my socks off rereading it.

While outwardly about a group of marooned boys scrapping for dominance on a remote island, it also resembled my late-seventies, Southern California prep school.

Some kids survived there by physically menacing playground “Piggy’s.” Others, like decent-hearted Jack, appealed for unity, demanding they keep a fire stoked for potential rescue before the savages within all of them aren’t worth saving anymore.

With that conch and bloody glasses, we appreciate mankind’s warring dualities.

My writing focuses on ethical failure, situations where people, when given the choice between the morally right and the morally wrong, choose the latter. Tackling the thornier “right versus right” ethical dilemmas is far more challenging. To do it requires an individual who is both a masterful thinker and writer. Joseph Badaracco is just that. In this brilliant book, Badaracco takes the reader into the minds of business people, at different levels of seniority, facing right versus right ethical dilemmas of increasing complexity. By doing so Badaracco not only provides insight into how challenging these dilemmas are to navigate, but also how finding a sensible path through is possible. This book is a must-read for business ethics students and practitioners.

Our love for humanity – which is how “philanthropy” is defined – is rooted in our sense of morality. 

Adam Smith explains that morality is not driven only by reason, but is built into us because we are social beings. To understand philanthropy, therefore, I think we need a grounding in how and why we want to help others.  This book explores that desire, or need, to empathize. 

Smith says that when we see people happy or sad, we feel happy or sad too, that we derive pleasure when people do things we approve of. Even though The Theory of Moral Sentiments is almost three centuries old, it teaches us much about why nonprofits can be successful in the modern world.

The majority of (if not all) ethical failures in the business world are caused by suboptimal (and at times completely flawed) incentives. If one wants to be a serious business ethics practitioner, then a basic understanding of incentives is a must – they matter. In this book, Jason Murphy provides a whirlwind tour of how incentives operate to drive both positive and perverse outcomes across a range of settings. The book is packed full of stories to illustrate the power of incentives and I think Murphy is onto something with the title – Incentivology should be a compulsory course in any undergraduate business or public policy course. And for Australian-based students and practitioners an extra bonus – Murphy is a local author.

I wrote extensively about Paul Polman in my own book—particularly about his courage. What I admire most is that he didn’t just talk about purpose; he lived it and delivered it.

Reading this book reminded me why I found his leadership at Unilever so compelling. Like purpose itself, Unilever isn’t perfect—but what Polman stood for and what he managed to achieve showed what’s truly possible when courage, conviction, and commitment meet strategy.

I loved how the book balances idealism with practical insight. It pushed my thinking further, reaffirming that profit and purpose can and must coexist if business is to remain relevant in today’s world.

Featured prominently in the plot of the NBC comedy The Good Place, Scanlon’s 1998 book covers much more than reasons and metaethics – it offers an ambitious explanatory theory of where our moral obligations to one another come from, and why they have the particular shape that they do – including of why we can’t justify doing terrible things to someone just because it benefits many other people. But in the first two chapters of the book, Scanlon also offers a large range of important and influential arguments about the nature of reasons and their relationship to both desire and value, and those two chapters in their own right merit this book a place on this list, in addition to its many other virtues.

This is the most influential book on my own thinking about meaningfulness in life. Wolf's idea that a meaningful life is distinct from both a happy life and a moral one—although there can be overlapping with these—is both simple and profound. And, unlike many contemporary philosophers, her writing is clear and accessible.

This collection revolves around the for-some-liberating-and-for-others-distressing idea that, given the plurality of things that matter in life, the options one faces might sometimes not be rankable in relation to one another as either one better than the other or as equally good; instead, they might be incomparable or else on a par.

While some think this idea requires qualification or is mistaken, others accept it and ask if or when it raises a serious challenge for choosing well. In a world rich with diverse possibilities that one can find oneself torn between, it’s natural to wonder whether rational choice between options that cannot be ranked in relation to one another is possible and, if so, how such choice proceeds.

This collection provides an influential starting point for such inquiry.  

Of all my superb teachers at Oxford, one stood out: Ronald (Ronnie) Dworkin. He was the sharpest scholar I have ever met. I attended most of his seminars and some of his lectures during my four years at Oxford and deeply cherished my private talks with him. Ronnie was a master communicator of ideas, orally and in writing. He would come to class with an empty yellow pad and speak for one hour non-stop. In this book, Dworkin discusses truth in morals, moral skepticism, moral responsibility, dignity, free will, political rights and concepts. I could have chosen any one of his other great books – Taking Rights Seriously, A Matter of Principle, or Sovereign Virtue. I choose Justice for Hedgehogs because this book discusses themes that I also constantly engage with: Truth, social responsibility, dignity, democracy, equality, liberty, and justice. 

I, Ruchin, like Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance for multiple reasons.

It is a father-son story, yet it includes how their family and friends shape their experiences. I like it because the motorcycle itself transforms into a human-like character, adding depth to the dialogue.

I also like the storytelling style; it is vivid. You can see each scene unfolding before you. And lastly, I appreciate how it draws on the Hindu and Buddhist values I grew up with, making the book even more relatable.

At the same time, I find the book a little dated in its voice and perhaps too long for readers today.