Books like Humanitarian Reason — picked by fans

Life Beside Itself is a startling book not only because of what it reveals about the history of settler-colonial government care imposed upon Arctic communities during the tuberculosis crisis (1940-60s) and the suicide crisis (1980s onwards) but for the raw emotional proximity that it provides to the individuals whose lives were changed by policies that, ironically, were derived from care itself.

It is a well-researched book that unnerved me with the haunting emotional intimacies its ethnographic and imagistic approach brought through the pages. The intractable longing of a young man waiting each year at the harbour for the ship, the C.D. Howe, that took his grandmother away to a southern hospital is just one of the things in this book that wounds its readers by recounting different forms of care.

I loved that Hamilton’s unpacking of the etymology of security led right to the notion of care.

This book had a shaping impact on how I think about care and its ties to security – a relation that continues to animate my interests. I learned that my cares (affections, attachments, worries) may mobilize me to enhance my security, which also may be done inadvertently at the expense of someone else’s. To put it another way, when we seek security, we are seeking to let go of our cares or to care less.

Security attends to the “inflated focus” on security as an instrument of control in contemporary cultural life and does so richly, drawing upon cultural forms such as fables, literature, and art in a beautiful and provocative text.

Starting with the public claim that Canadian society exhibits social indifference to the racialized and gendered violence connected to murdered and missing Indigenous women and girls, Granzow interrogates the presumed absence suggested the word indifference, showing that it hides something present and active: a social investment and authorization of this violence as part of the maintenance of the settler-colonial state.

Looking at the city of Edmonton historically, ways that this investment – or commitment – has materialized are elaborated, including a policing initiative (Project Kare) that collects demographic information on individuals expected to be subject to (colonial) violence and the former Charles Camsell Hospital that incarcerated Indigenous peoples from where many disappeared. This impacted my thinking on the contradictions inherent to the notion of care and the place I call home.

Our elders are maps to our history and lands. My grandmother taught me how to navigate America with grit and care and inspired my work in community.

This book narrates how to learn by honoring our ancestors, using the example of the Anishinaabeg tribes in Canada: how to draw maps and re-envision the world from the perspective of people without PhDs but who hold centuries of knowledge.

As an academic, I was taught that people outside of the university were sources of data that we could use to generate theory. I had to learn that everyday people hold powerful theories of the world that PhDs would do well to honor and uplift, especially if we want our knowledge to make the world a better place.

When was the last time you asked an elder the history of where you live and come from: the good, the bad, and the uncomfortable?

I love the academic rigor, clear writing, and balanced approach to one of the most controversial topics in wildlife conservation. I have written about hunting in relation to elephants, lions, and rhinos and found this book to be comprehensive in its coverage of the issue and its wider linkages.

Does hunting have a value–if so, what is the value, and to whom does it accrue? Do utilitarian arguments around the idea of the greatest good for the greatest number work to justify the sport/trophy hunting of animals? Can the shooting of a rhino, elephant, lion, buffalo, etc, be ethical if it contributes to conserving habitat and a wide range of species? These are all topics I have wrestled with and continue to think deeply about as I write about wildlife conservation.

This is one of my all-time favorites!

I have a long-loved copy with pages highlighted, corners bent, and margins full of my excited scribbles. The first time I read it, I felt like I had found a true friend in its pages. It reflected back my own developing understanding of the economy and offered language for things I had only sensed.

More than anything, it made me feel less alone and reminded me that others were asking similar questions about how our world could work differently. Gibson-Graham helps the reader understand that the economy is not some far-off concept, but rather all of us, and the choices we make together. Therefore, the book inspires us to see the ways we can change the economy from the ground up. 

Just as my second recommendation by Neel Burton was written by a psychiatrist, so here we have a retelling by a French philosopher. And–typically–for a real philosopher, the question becomes a ‘meaning of life’ sort of question, and how do we live the good life?

Greek myths have much excellent advice to offer, and Ferry draws this out brilliantly. Thus, I love this particularly because whilst the myths remain the same in all the books I like, the telling of them, and drawing out their significance seems inexhaustible and varied.

This book turned me into an activist. Mary Daly walked me through a riveting cultural history of various forms of misogyny and talked me through how they are all connected to the patriarchy. She managed to link up Suttee, Chinese Foot Binding, Female Genital Mutilation/Cutting, Witch Burnings, and American obstetrical practices in one theme- the patriarchy acting out its misogyny, and deconstructed language, mythology, and Christianity in the process.

This book was the most important book I have ever read (and re-read) for sorting out thinking about why women are subjected to things, globally, and clearly indicated no culture is left out, and no culture is much better than any other on this count. Challenging is an understatement. A brilliant, complex book.

This is an amazing book about a lonely horse who found a home and became a hero. It shows how God can use animals to heal us from the inside out.

Hopewell Ranch is a beautiful animal therapy farm in Michigan that was founded to help hurting children. This amazing ministry has also assisted in helping veterans, families, and individuals in their quest for healing. This ranch partners with several animals in a beautiful natural setting where people can connect to health in a peaceful and non-threatening atmosphere.

This book references an incredible Horse that encouraged many people who were going through struggles in their lives. Compassion, kindness, and God's grace were prevalent in this book. It is a true story and a must-read.

I’ve read lots of books about the future of business and the future of capitalism, but this book deeply inspired me. Mackey and Sisodia articulate with clarity and conviction what I’ve long believed—that purpose and profit are not mutually exclusive but, in fact, must go hand in hand.

I particularly connected with their emphasis on conscious leadership and the need for a higher purpose to guide business strategy. It reinforced my own thinking and sharpened my understanding of how critical it is for leaders to align values with actions. I saw clear parallels with the approach I have developed, and it affirmed for me that embedding purpose isn’t just desirable—it’s essential.