48 Books Like Global Governance and Local Peace

I’ve always known that IR theory is terrible at helping us predict anything. This book confirmed that instinct—and then gave me something better.

The book doesn't offer a grand theory of the world; it shows how careful, humble, context-driven thinking beats big ideas almost every time. I loved how it dismantled the myth of expert authority with one brutal line: "Human beings who spend their lives studying the state of the world…are poorer forecasters than dart-throwing monkeys."

It taught me to think in probabilities, to temper my overconfidence, and to focus on the details, not broad generality. In many ways, this has made me a worse “IR scholar”, but demonstrably much better at predicting events. This book is indispensable if you care about understanding policy outcomes, rather than just sounding clever. It sharpened the way I think about the future.

This book helped me see how much damage is done when treating the world as simple.

Escobar never mentions complexity theory, but that's precisely what animates his critique—a sense that development thinking flattens difference, reduces context, and imposes order where none exists. I'd long been uneasy with how the West 'solves' problems it helped create. This book gave me the conceptual tools to see why: it exposed development as a discourse that makes the world legible in Western terms, only to intervene on that basis.

What I love about this book is its refusal to accept those terms. It shows how we get the world wrong by insisting it should resemble us in the West, and why the costs of that are always borne elsewhere.

I loved this book because it finally explained something I’d felt for years but couldn’t quite articulate: that International Relations theory, as I was taught it, never really made sense of the world I knew. I remember reading it and thinking—yes, this is why so much of what passes for "global" thinking felt alien to my own experience of politics, power, and history. I’d always recognised that IR was speaking a language of empire without realising it.

What I value most is how the authors expose the discipline’s deep entanglement with Western historical assumptions—something I’d long mistrusted as universally applicable—but have never seen mapped so clearly. It helped me understand not just what IR is but also what it gets wrong about the world.

This book blew open a question I’d been circling for years: how do we know what’s real in the social world, and who decides?

I first read the philosopher John Searle (who the book starts with) as a student, and it lit a fire, but this book turned that spark into something much more powerful. It showed me that reality isn't just "out there," waiting to be described—it's built through language, norms, and belief, and yet that doesn't make it any less real.

I loved how this book made space for complexity without sliding into postmodern fog. It gave me sharper tools to think with and helped me see how our shared world gets made—and how it could be made differently. I've never thought the same way since. The book outlines what we get philosophically wrong about the world in a way that is useful.

Funding of international organizations is one of the most obscure yet most consequential aspects of their work. Erin R. Graham convincingly demonstrates that the states that created the UN did not foresee the impending decolonization and the loss of the Western majority in the UN General Assembly, the UN body responsible for adopting the organization’s budget. Major donors, unable to maintain control over the regular budget, switched to providing voluntary funding—money that states can choose to give to the UN on their own terms, specifying projects and locations for their use.

The switch did not come about through an overhaul of the UN’s formal rules, but rather as a result of seemingly small, situation-specific decisions. Over time, they have led to the current state of affairs when 75 percent of UN development financing comes from voluntary contributions, undermining the spirit of multilateralism central to the UN.

“I hear people say we have to stop and debate globalization. You might as well debate whether autumn should follow summer.”

In 2005, Tony Blair told his party that a new, free-market, globalized form of capitalism was inevitable. Filipino theorist, activists and later politician Walden Bello begged to differ. He believed globalization was a political choice, and one that suited Western elites and their multinational corporations, at the expense of the mass of humanity.

In Deglobalization, Bello sets out to show how things could be different, imagining a more diverse international economy centred on the principle of being as democratic as possible.

The UN peacekeeping operation in the Democratic Republic of Congo, deployed in 1999 and still ongoing, has an annual budget of 1.13 billion dollars. It has over 16,000 military and police personnel and nearly 3,000 civilian specialists. Although it is preparing to withdraw, its duration, scale, and significance make it a fascinating case study of the UN’s work on the ground. 

Buitelaar’s book examines how the UN operates by zooming in on its cooperation with other international institutions—in this case, the International Criminal Court (ICC). Drawing on interviews with senior mission officials, the book convincingly demonstrates that individuals matter at the UN. Mission leadership’s decisions shaped whether and how peacekeepers supported the ICC’s work in an environment characterized by the US’ ambivalent attitude towards the court.

If you are interested in gaining a better understanding of why the UN fails so miserably at building and sustaining peace – read this new book. Adam Day works at the UN and uses ideas from complexity science to both explain why the UN is so challenged in its ultimate mission to sustain peace, and what it should do to move in the right direction. Day uses two current case studies on some of the most challenging situations faced by the international community and applies new ideas in useful and practical ways. This is the state-of-the-art of complexity-informed peacebuilding.

I bought this book after hearing its author, Simon Sharpe, speak about it at a festival. His talk was very inspiring and convincing, and the book definitely matched my expectations.

As a sustainability academic, it really appealed to me the way he sets out how current practices in science, economics, and diplomacy don’t work, and then proceeds to provide alternative solutions to address climate change, which is very compelling.

I liked that the call for action was not in the obvious areas that we normally pursue for climate action, and that despite all setbacks and lack of progress, there is grounds for hope, and regardless of who we are or what we do, there are things we all can do. 

Stephen Schneider was one of the leading scientists in the early days of climate modeling and one of the first climate scientists to understand the importance of science communication. I think of this book as both a memoir and a political primer for anyone interested in how warnings from climate scientists get attacked and undermined in the media.

The book is particularly good at explaining how the UN’s international reports on climate change came together and why mainstream media networks consistently miss the story when reporting on climate science.