100 Books Like Strength Through Peace

This was one of the best books I’ve read in a very long time. Its conclusions will be vigorously resisted by many and yet, in a certain light, considered perfectly obvious to some others.

The central conclusion—that ending the institution of war is entirely up to us to choose—was, arguably, reached by (among many others before and since) John Paul Sartre sitting in a café utilizing exactly no research. But Horgan is a writer for “Scientific American,” and approaches the question of whether war can be ended as a scientist. It’s all about research.

He concludes that war can be ended, has been ended in various times and places, and is in the process (an entirely reversible process) of being ended on Earth right now.

What would we do in a world lacking police, prisons, surveillance, borders, wars, nuclear weapons, and capitalism? Well, we might survive. We might sustain life on this little blue dot a little longer. That—in contrast to the status quo—ought to be sufficient. We might, in addition, do a lot more than sustain life. We might transform the lives of billions of people, including each person reading these words. We might have lives with less fear and worry, more joy and accomplishment, more control and cooperation.

But, of course, the question might be asked in the sense of “Wouldn’t the criminals get us, and the forces of law and order be imperiled, and evildoers take away our freedoms, and sloth and laziness deprive us of updated phone models every few months?” As a way to begin answering those concerns, I recommend this tremendous resource of a book which surveys seven candidates… show more.

The history of militarism isn't one of goodness and glory marred by a "few bad apples," one or two misguided wars. Here is an avalanche of examples. If your mind doesn’t go numb, you will feel—as I did—an urge to take a shower after closing this book.

This is the naming and shaming of names. The author admits that he’s only scratching the surface. But he’s scratching it in many different places, and the result ought to be persuasive for most people, but it was not for me. Sorensen demonstrates how corruption and sociopathic destruction feed off each other, generating the real problem: organized and glorified mass homicide.

This book makes a powerful case that humanitarian war no more exists than philanthropic child abuse or benevolent torture. I’m not sure the actual motivations of wars are limited to economic and strategic interests—which seems to forget the insane, power-mad, and sadistic motivations—but I am sure that no humanitarian war has ever benefitted humanity.

This book makes that very clear. It does not take the approach so widely recommended of watering down the truth so that the reader is only gently nudged in the right direction from where he or she is starting. There’s no getting 90% reassuringly wrong to make the 10% palatable here. This is a book for either people who have some general notion of what war is or people who aren’t traumatized by jumping into an unfamiliar perspective and thinking about it. Refreshing!

The author's story is heart-wrenching yet uplifting, excruciating yet freeing, and extremely personal yet spoke to me in volumes. It is hard to pick out the wisdom I loved the most but from 'doing love' to busting out of 'just-a-box' to 'come back,' it is all that I needed to hear in these banana-pants crazy times. I have put on my bucket list to attend one of the author's retreats one day. Can't think of anything better than yoga, writing, and wine.

This may seem a ‘wild card’ recommendation as this book has nothing to do with work.

However, Beth Kempton uses the Japanese concept of ‘Wabi Sabi’ to help us come to terms with being imperfectly perfect. Life may not always go to plan and we can face disappointments. Perhaps your project fell through, or your pitch failed, or you realised you are on the wrong path or on a pathway that no longer serves you.

This book offers very gentle wisdom to overcome and accept these challenges in life, and therefore in work, providing the reader with comfort and knowledge to embrace their perfectly imperfect life. 

Wallman’s concept of ‘stuffocation’—being suffocated by too much stuff—deeply resonated with me. This book explores how consumer culture has left us overwhelmed, unhappy, and craving more meaningful experiences.

It offers an insightful, research-backed case for prioritizing experiences over material possessions. If you’re looking for a compelling argument to help you shift away from material excess and towards a richer life, this book will help you get there.

The stronger our relationships, the more likely we are to live happy, satisfying, and healthier lives. In fact, research reveals that the strength of our social connections can predict our health throughout the life span. Insights in this book are drawn from the personal lives of participants in the Harvard Study of Adult Development, as they were followed for each year of their adult lives, and supported by research data from this and similar studies.

Relationships of all kinds—friendships, romantic partnerships, families, coworkers—contribute to a happier, healthier life. According to The Good Life, it’s never too late to strengthen the relationships you have—and never too late to build new ones.

When I first saw the book, I thought, “What an odd title for a book on technology?” But the adage that you can’t tell a book by its cover was 100 percent accurate. The author takes the reader on a remarkable journey to understand how the technologies of the day, ordinary technologies—such as vaccines, pasteurization, drug regulation and testing, antibiotics, and industrial safety--have transformed humanity, societies, and our daily lives.

The author leaves the best for last, as he asserts that the most transformative technology has been access to clean water. The results are measured in greater longevity and quality of life for humanity. Using these everyday technologies, the author provides a clear articulation of why technology is so vital to our future.   

Most yoga memoirs and novels are written by women, so I was intrigued when I first stumbled on this book by a hard-charging CEO who picks up his family and moves to Bali.

While there, Feder takes up yoga, meditation, and painting. Like any good yoga memoirist, he details all the ways the sabbatical transforms him, his relationship with his kids and, upon returning to the U.S., his work life. But he’s also honest about how the mind tries to sabotage his efforts at every turn.

I very much enjoyed this book and think it’s especially valuable for men looking to take a similar inward spiritual journey (even if, like the protagonists of my yoga novels, they never leave home).