Rebecca Weekly

For October, we read The Ministry of Time, a debut novel by Kaliane Bradley. While most people in our club liked at least some part of the book, the consensus was not unanimous. The book centers on a top-secret project where figures from the past have been rescued from certain death in their own time periods and transported to the future. At the beginning the narrator, a civil servant of Cambodian-English heritage, has the opportunity to interview for a prestigious role in a new and top-secret branch of the government. She decides to take the role and becomes the bridge (a roommate, companion and observer) of Commander Gore, an explorer who historically died on a failed expedition to the Arctic during the Victorian era.

Right off the bat, the narrator waves aside the science of HOW time travel was invented/discovered by the British government for the formation of the Ministry of Time, and that of course annoyed me. I would have loved to see a bit of due diligence invested in the science here. Still Commander Graham Gore was a real person and it seems the author did do her research on him (as well as for the other “expats” described in the novel). I would have happily read a whole story centered on their adjustment to the modern era. Where they grappled with concepts that were totally unfamiliar and where they found joy was a wonderful thought experiment, and is a testament to the creativity of Ms. Bradley. There are so many funny and engaging moments, the wonder and occasional disdain that they found in modern technology and morays was hilarious and insightful.

In this section, a beautiful if hard-to-imagine relationship between the narrator and Commander Gore spawns. It is written with tension and allure, creating a backstory that seems to explain why a man who comes from an era where people who were not of British or at least European descent were clearly not valued, might fall in love with a person of mixed-Ethnicity despite himself. While forced in places, and maybe indicative of feelings of misbelonging from the author herself, it does describe a mutual love affair bordering on obsession. Ms. Bradley’s writing style comes across in this section with some expressive phrases, “humor can slide ideas under the door” and “you can’t trauma-proof life, and you can’t hurt-proof your relationships. You have to accept you will cause harm to yourself and others.” There are others which feel a bit over-the-top, but I love poetry, so I found her phrases often lingered in my head.

I struggled with the end of the novel because the science and the story did not progress logically to me. I did not like the inconsistency in tone from start to finish (one so charming, one so jarring and painful). I did not feel it was true to human nature that a love affair would end the way it did (if one truly felt so strongly, then hate and not indifference would be more logical). Mostly though I did not find the science tolerable (even the narrator’s own ark violates the notion of a time paradox).

It was like a dystopian novel was jammed in at the end of what generally felt like a historical romance. I can step back and say “the author decided to engage in a thought experiment about bringing a British commander forward from the Victorian era, and what the future would have looked like if that form of British “exceptionalism” had been allowed to carry forward through the 21st century–the inevitable impact to other nations.” But of course that isn’t what happened, and while the world is certainly not fair and equal among nations, the notion that one country could exist simply for the exploit of another would be shunned world wide in our era.

Again, I don’t want to seem naive that we live in a time of equality, and every piece of fiction is a thought experiment one either resonates with or does not. We do see resource exploitation more heavily in industrialized nations, but also increased consciousness and a desire to reduce consumption. Like many debut novels it felt like her own personal struggles around being of mixed heritage where others couldn’t fully see her, and maybe her guilt over being someone who could “blend in” making her more compliant than others to inequality in systems was where she was trying to go with the book. These were all potentially powerful reflections that could have been written in without the non-scientific sci-fi thriller portion, but I felt that the way she took characters who were so vibrant in the beginning of the novel and reduced them to caricatures by the end to make her point made the novel much less compelling.

All in all I was glad I read it, but it felt like it was two novels mashed together, and the first one was far more creative.

For Book Club in September, Rachael helped select our book, and Chip Conley’s Learning to Love Midlife: 12 Reasons Why Life Gets Better with Age was the winner.

Chip Conley is the founder of The Modern Elder Academy, and at times the book feels a bit like lead gen for that organization, but generally he manages to maintain a call to action and not devolve into an ad campaign. Mr. Conley was early at AirBnB where he was considered their “wise elder” since before that he had been a boutique hoteliere. The book starts with his personal midlife crisis, and evolves into a treatise on why midlife is a time to savor wisdom, self-knowledge, and joy. 

The midlife crisis is the butt of so many jokes because the stastics are real: suicide, mental health crises, illness, loss of friends, spouses, jobs, parents, financial stress, and so much more often hits in the 40s, 50s, and 60s. The book tries to reframe our thinking about the natural transition of midlife not as a crisis, but as “a chrysalis—a time when something profound awakens in us, where we shed our skin, spread our wings, and pollinate our wisdom to the world.”

Of the 12 reasons he lists for why life gets better with age, two really resonated with me:

1. My appearance doesn’t define me

I grew up performing (dancing and singing), and appearance was critical to landing a part (often more important than my skill). Then when I entered engineering, my appearance was also defining and not in a good way. I didn’t “look” the part, and I got to experience all the cliche moments one might predict: being propositioned, asked if I could get folks coffee when I was actually teaching the class, etc.

As I get older, appearance matters less to me: how others perceive me and how I judge myself. I am just grateful to be able to move, dance, run, sing, and HOW I do it matters so much less than the fact that I still can. Whether I match someone’s mental model of an engineer or not is their problem. What matters to me now is helping other people who aren’t the norm find their place in this profession because ultimately that will lead to better solutions and systems. Getting through the shock of being an outlier requires a mental and emotional energy beyond just the day-to-day effort of investing in one’s real work: I want to help people who are experiencing that weather the challenges and reassure them that people care a whole lot less than they think they do.

2. Letting go of our emotional baggage, mindsets, and obligations that no longer serve us

Much like the above, there are modes of operation that get you to a certain point in your career and life journey, but if you are not willing to find your reason and seek a greater purpose than your own success, you likely won’t be very happy. Whether that is music, family, religion, or community, much of the joy of being in this life phase is saying “I have enough” and “I am enough.” We push so hard to prove ourselves through school, landing a job, getting the next promotion, finding our partners, building our families, etc. At some point we have to transition to a place of enjoyment in what we have, and not just the next mountain we are seeking to climb: this is your life! It is a gift to not need someone else to validate you. To see feedback as a signal of how people are perceiving you, and choose to adapt your behavior if they are important to you, but not to take it personally. Being able to step back from that baggage is absolutely a gift of experience, self-assurance, and wisdom.

There are definitely some good nuggets in this book, and getting to share it at Book Club with so many of my former colleagues making major life changes (retirement, entrepreneurship, empty-nesting, managing health and wellness scares, etc.) led to deeply meaningful conversations. If you are going through a transition and feeling like you are the only one: you aren’t alone, and maybe this is a good book to pick up. Happy reading!  

For August book club, we tried something new thanks to a former co-worker and college friend’s recommendation. Gifted and Distractible is a book that helps elucidate why a child can excel at math and yet lose it over having to execute mundane tasks. Ms. Skolnick explains a concept I had never heard of before: twice exceptional (2e) children, and highlights that even experts disagree about how to support them. (Not to bury the lede, but I found this moderately depressing.) 

First she delves into terminology. Gifted signifies having the capability to perform at a high level cognitively, creatively, academically, or artistically compared to peers. Gifted children make connections others miss, show intense curiosity about topics, or demonstrate advanced reasoning skills. She also describes “distracted” in reference to learning differences like ADHD, dyslexia, anxiety, and sensory issues that make learning challenging. These differences or disabilities can affect children’s motivation, behavior, comprehension, and skill development so it’s important to identify where and why a child is struggling. “Twice exceptional” refers to a child who is gifted and also has a learning difference, making their needs more complex. The magnitude of their strengths and weaknesses make them difficult to identify and serve. 

Next she goes into three experiences that can provide insight if one has a twice exceptional child. 

First she describes asynchronous development. Gifted children often develop unevenly across the spectrum. They may be advanced in math but struggle with speech, fine motor skills, or social behaviors. Gifted children may also have splinter skills, which are skills they don’t generalize across other situations, and are highly advanced compared to their overall abilities.

The second experience is perfectionism. 2e kids often fixate on flaws others don’t notice. They may need help letting go and building self-esteem when things aren’t perfect. Perfectionism (which can happen in any kind of kid, and let’s be honest across many of the high-achieving adults with whom I’ve worked) can be driven by a desire for control or fear of failure. Finding perspectives on perceived imperfections can help. She tries to focus on ways to assist these children in building resilience, and the number one technique (also referred to often in Angela Duckworth’s wonderful book Grit: The Power of Passion and Perseverance) is to praise effort and growth, not outcomes.

The third experience 2e children often have is overexcitability. Whether it’s intellectual, emotional, imaginational, sensory, or psychomotor, many 2e children crave stimulus. This intense trait isn’t a deficit, but a sign of potential that requires nurturing. For example, a child with psychomotor overexcitability may struggle to sit still and choose to run around the room while listening to a teacher. It’s important to recognize that by running, this child is exercising a choice to cope with their seemingly conflicting needs to listen and move. While it may not be an appropriate choice for the classroom, recognizing the child’s attempt to cope will be more fruitful than just demanding that they sit down.

Ms Skolnick discusses how knowing the background of 2e children, and understanding how they experience the world is crucial when it comes to advocacy, but I think her narrative is relevant for understanding many of the gifted coworkers we all have. Few people are high achievers in every access, but the asymmetries we all have are often what leads to genius in domains critical for companies. Understanding how to proactively improve environments for neuro-diverse employees is an increasingly important skill for managers. To create a path forward, we all need to understand more about how to unlock the creativity and success of these individuals. 

Ms. Skolnick talks about how giftedness can be assessed through IQ and achievement testing, grades, and teacher observations. Learning differences can be evaluated through psychoeducational testing, developmental history, and specialist analysis. Since gifts can mask disabilities, and vice versa, she talks about how comprehensive testing is vital to uncover the dual needs. Recording observations at home, and partnering with experts to gain a holistic view is the combination that tends to work best. I found this advice somewhat frustrating: as a mother of two little boys in the current American medical system, getting assessments and the time of experts with two working parents has been nearly impossible. Working through the challenges of our medical system and being a full-time advocate for my children would be a full time job (in fact, from her bio, it does seem this may have been Ms. Skolnick’s path into her current profession). 

I hope that this may be an opportunity for AI in the future: assistive and even adaptive technology for education which adjusts to the interests and requirements of the child, modified assignments or assessment techniques that are better at finding the strengths and weaknesses of our children, and more adaptive enrichment opportunities will hopefully help teachers more objectively understand a child’s strengths and needs. I find while my husband and I are deeply involved in our childrens’ education, we as their parents can sometimes be more triggering than successful in assisting them, and so improving mechanisms to personalize education in the classroom seems like a strong win for parents, teachers, and all children, 2e or otherwise.

Other advice offered by the author is to seek out 2e communities. While I have little doubt that connecting with those facing similar challenges provides validation, I come back to the, “does this process sound overwhelming?” thread. The answer for me is yes. She encourages parents to start with their own insights and observations, and find the expertise as needed. Again, I deeply appreciated the concepts in this book, most specifically not focusing on the weaknesses, but rather doubling down on the strengths of our children to help them find the path to thrive. 

For July book club we read The Pixar Touch by David Price. This book is a fun piece delving into three major phases of Pixar: the formaltion of the company (including a brief history of computer graphics as a field), Pixar under Steve Jobs, and the era of Disney’s acquisition.

My favorite section by far was the first, providing fantastic insights into the early phases of the computer graphics and computer animation industry. There were references to companies where I worked including Silicon Graphics, and SIGGRAPH demos that are absolutely legendary throughout the industry. Sharing this at Book Club where friends were at Apple while Jobs was CEO of both Pixar and Apple, and others were involved in the development of early graphics chips led to great personal stories and reflections. In this section you really hear about the evolution of compute graphics as an industry, the titans of that era, like Evanston Sutherland, the creation of the company, originally as a division of Lucas Films, and the early interactions of Lassater and Catmull.

The second section on the Pixar purchase by Steve Jobs, detailed much of the struggle between being a hardware company offering software and services for computer animation and graphics, and being an animation shop. What ostensibly started as a way to demonstrate the Pixar Image Computer capabilities quickly became the primary passion of the Pixar cofounders (to the point that they rarely and soon didn’t USE the Pixar Image Computer for the animation they shared at SIGGRAPH). There are clear power struggles, and some shady activities around stock for employees that happened during this time, but it also becomes an important era, since it details the initial distribution deal with Disney, which entirely changed the trajectory of the company. In some ways this begins my least favorite part of the book since the behavior of a lot of business leaders I have long admired that is described in the book was shoddy at best. My favorite part here was the creative vision of Catmull and how he evolved that style within Pixar. That was a true highlight and made me want to rewatch all the older films to see the evolution in technique.

The last section is really about the Disney acquisition and how it set up the long term success of the company. While other books detail the history of Disney’s journey far better (Storming the Magic Kingdom and Ride of a Lifetime to name a few) it does share the impact of the personal relationships and power struggles on the fate of Pixar, and how the company ended up being such a wildly expensive acquisition, but also wildly successful in reinvigorating the brand. In this section the best part was reading about a successful acquisition. So rarely do large scale acquisitions yield continued (and in fact enhanced) success of both brands, and this is one of those rare cases worth delving into.

I am a complete sucker for these kinds of books: history of computing stitched in with suprising heroes and ultimately success, so I definitely recommend it, but I would say that the author glosses over much of the impact of the wars between Eisner and Jobs, and how it negatively effected the employees of Pixar. Ultimately, it is more a love affair with the creative vision and journey than a true exposé on how Pixar evolved, but it was still a very fun read.

For June’s book club we read Bad Blood: Secrets and Lies in a Silicon Valley Startup by John Carreyrou. The book and investigation behind it are gripping tales of how the glorified “fake it ’till you make it” entrepreneurial culture can backfire on humanity in the hands of a sociopath. (Yes, I have strong feelings.) I had heard of Theranos, and certainly lived here in the Silicon Valley as the events of this book unfolded, but even hearing about the controversy through the media at the time, the depth and scope of the scam that was perpetrated by Elizabeth Holmes and her partner Sunny Balwani illustrated in the book is astonishing.

I won’t summarize the story since it was well reported in situ by the Wall Street Journal and the results of her 2020 trial and conviction for defrauding investors (mind you not for harming people with her faulty medical devices nor her harrassing employment practices) are all widely available. There is even a documentary on Netflix. I will instead summarize our book club commentary. We had a split among folks believing that she was a brilliant and misguided young woman, nobel in her fantasy, and naive in her approach, and those of us who believe she was essentially a con woman, willing and wanting to mislead others in order to become the next Steve Jobs, and there was nothing and no one she would allow to stand in her way.

Let’s be clear: some of the most interesting and innovative solutions of our time have come from entrepreneurs and MANY of the most respected ones overstated the value and/or readiness of their products at the time of launch (Larry Elison, Steve Jobs, etc.) I would argue this is quite typical and framed as “marketing” or “vision” when the company or product ultimately meets with success. The difference is that most of the entrepreneurs who make it are actually operating from a baseline of skill in the domain where they are innovating, and that the implications of software being less high quality or fully featured than the marketing is far less dire than when medical devices fail to accurately diagnose real issues. Elizabeth Holmes, as a college dropout, really had no basis for building a company around a technology domain in which she had no depth, and the flimsiness of her claims became obvious quickly to experts as soon as the media picked up the story. Most blood tests just cannot work on such tiny samples, so while lots of folks really do suffer from blood draws (e.g. cancer patients with collapsing veins), we have not yet solved the real challenges of testing accurately without larger samples.

As someone who has spent my career in semiconductor and systems engineering, I have always found overstated marketing moderately appaling. In hardware if you overstate what your chip or system can do, someone else can purchase it, benchmark it, and prove you are wrong. Legally compaies are required to publish the exact conditions of the experiment they ran to yield those results (and if they don’t they can be sued). So it is likely not surprising that I find a lot of software and services marketing to be fluffy at best, and morally repugnant at worst.

I think this background is why I found the claims of Elizabeth Holmes so horrifying. America relies on our enforcement agencies to protect us from con women and men like Holmes and Balwani. That entreprenurial mania could somehow allow politicians, investors, and enforecement agencies to ignore the facts is a real testimony to how the world glorifies these individuals at the expense of common people, their health, and wellness. We are obsessed with the stories of entreprenuers, and arguably many of the most valuable companies raising America’s GDP come from these lightening rod individuals, so maybe there is a basis for it. Still, nearly half of jobs in America come from small businesses, not the massive multinational corporations the 1 in 10,000 entrepreneurs eventually create. We should not ignore the collateral damage many entrepreneurs leave in their wakes while we glorify the companies some of them have been able to build. This book is a cautionary tale of what happens when we don’t do our due diligence and we let the story eclipse reality.

It finally happened: Chip War by Chris Miller was unanimously loved by everyone in our book club. Now, full disclosure, most people in my book club are folks I have worked with in semiconductor development and design, systems development and design (relying on semiconductors) or electronic design automation tooling (used to design, layout, and manufacture semiconductors) over the years. So of course this book, which details decades of history about the world’s most critical resource semiconductors, is pandering to the base. Still, this book has important historical context for laypeople as well, specifically if you are curious about trade policy challenges between the United States and China.

This book contained the history of people and companies I’ve known, worked at or with, including drama and intrigues from early phases of the industry that I never knew. It was a page-turner, and one of the best books I have read recently. I wish this were required reading for anyone considering a career in Electrical Engineering as it explains how semiconductors came to play a critical role in modern life and how the U.S. became dominant in chip design and manufacturing (initially spurred by the space race and military systems development). It makes a strong point that America’s victory in the Cold War and its global military dominance stems from its ability to harness computing power more effectively than any other power. 

Personally I have always been shocked, having worked in so many parts of semi, how very much the world takes these incredible pieces of technology for granted. Every part of your day relies on semiconductors: your alarm clock, smart phone, toothbrush, lights, laptop, and every app providing you insights relies on semiconductors. This book really emphasizes how the military, economic, and geopolitical power bases of nearly every nation in the world are built on a foundation of semiconductors. It honestly made me so proud to be a part of this incredible industry, and still grateful everyday to the brilliant minds who invented it, many of whom are still with us.

The book spends a lot of time discussing how America designed and built the fastest chips and maintained its lead as a superpower for the majority of the industry’s history. It also speaks about how America’s role is far more nuanced today, still hosting some of the greatest fabless semiconductor companies, but having lost its lead in many of the industries it invented (DRAM, chip manufacturing, etc.) Frankly these American companies are some of the most multinational conglomerates imaginable for development and design, and through their dispersed supply chains across Taiwan, Korea, Europe, and China. It is interesting, and perhaps a bit hard as someone in the industry to imagine it from the lens of individual countries. When you work for a multinational company, you think about the benefits (around the clock support and development timelines, improved cost of labor, diverse approaches and thinking, etc.) and not from the author’s point of view, which is why it is important to read this book.

Since the book was written from a historical context with an eye to global trade and policy, it ends on a call to action about America’s military superiority and economic prosperity being tied to excellence in chip design and fabrication. Dr. Miller stresses how America has let key components of the chip-building process slip out of its grasp, contributing not only to a worldwide chip shortage (which in my opinion has more to do with a globally dispersed supply chain and would not have been ameliorated by U.S. control), but also a new Cold War with a superpower adversary that is committed to bridging the gap. I found that conclusion interesting since the author often cites America’s lack of policies supporting semiconductor development (at least in the early days) as leading to stronger companies than their nation-backed competitors. That being said the delta now is the sheer cost of R&D at the process nodes required for state-of-the-art logic chips. Either way, this book is a critical piece of history on an industry so often misunderstood, and provides important insights in an accessible manner on the current state of politics, economics, and technology. I highly recommend it.

For book club in April we read Babel, or the Necessity of Violence by R.F. Kuang. This is a historical fantasy novel that explores how the power of language can be used to uphold an empire, or be responsible for its violent and deserved demise. It is opinionated and does not shy away from making its pitch against colonialism and racism.

So first, what I appreciated most about the novel: the research on etymology, and the intricacies of translation is thorough. There are insights across pictoral alphabets, and the poetry implicit in such languages, which I truly felt expanded my appreciation for Chinese characters in particular. Also, having gone to Oxford for a high school summer program, I LOVED the scenes through the city, set in such a different time from when I was there, but which still resonated. It is an institution that has and always will be iconic, and brought up wonderful memories for me.

I also just loved frame of this novel that translation can be harnessed as a tool for empire building, which is of course true of history, but something that was not fundamental in my American education (neither directly nor as a part of my history lessons: this seems like a terrible oversight since there is so much culture in language, and understanding those differences is a fundamental way for us to understand motivation throughout history). Therefore delving into a novel about one of the most transformational phases of our world (global trade and its associated social dynamics), was really interesting. I have read many Western novels focused on this time of exploration and discovery where the life’s blood of news, novels, and fantasy were the mysteries of new empires and nations, but also where rigid hierarchies of humanity were constantly being enforced. I embraced the notion of a book told from the lens of children exploited as goods themselves as a challenge to the supposed glory of those who in so many other novels are painted as heroes.

The challenge of this novel is not in the premise, nor the research, it is in the fundamentals of the narrative arc. What draws me to a novel is the development of the characters, and the insight into the world and maybe myself that a novel can elicit. The stitching of true historical events into a new narrative should be wonderful, but while the author uses many true events, she assumes a rather myopic motivation for them, I believe to turn up her commentary on racism and colonialism as truly evil. While I agree there were evil outcomes of this time, as a novel the singular lens ends up bypassing real conflict and turmoil of character development and therefore generates a far less interesting story. I don’t advocate for this time in history AT ALL, AND I think there was nuance in the choices and motivations, which ultimately is what made it both a fascinating and horrific time in our history. I personally find novels that delve into that ambiguity much more interesting than one which tries to lay it out in such “good” and “evil” camps.

So the backdrop and history paint demonic imperialists empowered and insistent on exploiting everyone based on their priviledged perspective that they have a right to such dominance, but that doesn’t mean the main characters (who are the victims of this world view) could not be interesting. Sadly they too are not as fully fleshed out as I would have hoped. The main character, Robin, grows up with an abusive guardian and yet he somehow emerges grateful and determined. Maybe such grit could survive his mistreatment (epic memoires have been written on this basis), but even as he enters college there is not significant social and emotional growth–he remains a child-like character insistent on impressing his abusive guardian.

He does build one beautiful and enduring friendship that borders on obsession, but all his other interactions (with the two other women in his cohort and even his half brother) are stilted. He constantly seems like a scared child afraid to engage in any meaningful way with no real motivation except to learn and connect with Rami, his best friend. Then suddently there is an abrupt break in his behavior: he fights back, which somewhat hard to believe given his previous mild-mannered behaviors, and grotesquely dispatches of another human with very little thought. That someone could break I believe, but then I would assume self-protection would generate some semblance of justification. Instead he becomes crippled once again and let’s others take control of his life somehow returning to a mild-mannered (now wracked with guilt) version of himself.

I genuinely wanted to see more development of these characters: they SHOULD have been the heart of this tale, and I really loved the brief back story we got on Victoire at the end, but these were the exceptions and not the general rule of the novel. My favorite part of Robin’s story was his friendship with Rami, but the inconsistency of development of the characters limited their relatability and is the shortcoming of the tale.

In some ways, I think the author did this to try to make her very specific point: that in the face of real racism and colonialism even the most mild mannered and “favored” in the system can turn to violence. While I think this is an interesting perspective, I don’t believe it is an inevitable one, and maybe that is where I struggled the most. Mahatma Gandhi proved rather poetically how untrue this premise could be, and ultimately I would argue his approach led to far more lasting change.

I loved that this book brought me back to history, rereading the events that led to the Opium Wars, and the social and policital forces at play. My favorite part of reading is the inspiration to learn and grow. Upon that research, I sadly found myself less excited about the novel than I was while reading it mostly because there was so much that led to the Opium Wars, and she glosses over all of that with the introduction of magic silver bars. I think by focusing on the need for violence she lost the complexity and nuance of a world where everyone thought they were doing what was right for their people. To me the important lesson is not that violence could be necessary, but rather that through tribalism and dehumanization even the most seemingly noble of people can engage in subjugation and deplorable acts. The lesson for us as society is to appreciate one another for our differences, connect with one another, learn and expand our world view; ultimately then we can avoid the shame and horror of these kinds of events.

Again, I enjoyed the book and have no regrets that I read it. The quotations, historical context, etymology, nuance in translation, depictions of Oxford–I was fully engaged from the first chapter. I just think this could have been SO much better with a bit more nuance and character development. Sociopathy is not common, but in the name of protecting our people, humanity can justify depravity, and that lesson is something that we can never afford to forget. 

For March, we read The Wandering Earth by Cixin Liu in book club. Little did I know The Three Body problem would take Netflix by storm and make this seem like a populist act…I have not seen the Netflix show (full disclosure) and this decision was definitely made before I knew about it. That being said I LOVED The Three Body Problem and whole dark forest trilogy, NOT because the science was correct (spoiler alert–it isn’t), but because it proposed such a novel solution to the Fermi Paradox: if there is such a large probability of extraterrestrial life, why can we not find it.

Novel thought experiments that make you look at the world differently is the heart of Liu’s writing, and why I generally liked The Wandering Earth. The Wandering Earth had 10 short stories (of which the first is a story by the titular name). Each story had a lesson or kernel of something brilliant in it, but I will say that there was a level of cruelty and disregard toward life, ecology, etc. in some of the stories that I found very troubling. Cixin Liu comes from a non-Western culture, and so his science fiction captures different commentary–what is considered dystopic, noble, and even typical gender norms vary greatly from what you might see in a Bradbury, Asimov, or Verne novel.

Since there were 10 stories, I won’t try to summarize them all–just share some of the high and low lights. The Wandering Earth was from a scientific perspective the most interesting to me (e.g. move the earth as a spaceship, instead of abandoning it in favor of building big enough spaceships/rockets).  To the comment on culture above, there is a degree of stoicism (the husband has an affair and the wife and child don’t even seem to notice his absence or ultimate return) and utter chaos from an environmental perspective that I cannot imagine seeing in a Western short story. There also are stories of resilience for the good of all, and ultimately resistance that does seem universal (conspiracy theories upsetting rational thought in the public dialogue–felt like a social media commentary was embedded even without any such technology referred to in the story). In general I found the story a bit cold, but also interesting.

The next story I liked was Sun of China. It was absolutely a hero’s quest (leaving home to work in the coal mines, then migrating continually for work becoming a “spiderman”–skyscraper window cleaner, and eventually a space explorer). It had the elements of manifest destiny that I have seen in 1900s literature from Western writers, but with a very different technological backdrop (again the concept of using technology to change weather patterns despite significant implications to world-wide ecology, and then the lack of any call to be home or with family other than to know they are proud of him). His motivation didn’t resonate with me from a values point of view, but it was a beautiful story all the same. 

Another one I really enjoyed (and found mind-bending in the best of ways) was Micro-era. A navigator returns to Earth from a deep space mission seeking the next habitable planet for humans to migrate to, fails to find such a planet, learns all of the other navigators also failed and died, returns home to earth, only to discover that the great cataclysmic event from which he was trying to find an escape for humanity has occurred and all life appears to be dead. THEN he realizes there is life, and the form factor is unexpected. It is a fun concept that enables a difficult reality to be faced, and new hope to be found. I thought it was…fascinating (and one of the few stories with an ecological angle that wasn’t catastrophic at least from the lens of human impact on the Earth.)

With Her Eyes was again an interesting thought experiment, and one of the most relatable stories in the novel (as it came down to gratitude, empathy, and the value of human connection). It is really a simple story with the lesson of cherishing the moment because we never know when we might lose it. 

Cannonball was very true-to-form Liu in my eyes: hard science where the joy of discovery is juxtaposed against the impact on society: “yes we can do amazing things…should we?”  I didn’t love the characters (this is fairly consistent feedback for me: outside of the characters in With Her Eyes, and the Captain in The Devourer, I didn’t find the character development to be fantastic), but I did find it to be an awesome thought experiment.

In Book Club we had a fabulous discussion led by two members who have background in Chinese history and culture about some of the nuance and commentary within the stories of the novel. With that lens, I found a deeper appreciation for the subtlety and elegance of Liu’s writing than I had previously had. In general I would recommend the novel (although For the Benefit of All Mankind was a brutal read for me personally). I would definitely recommend the collection, but maybe skip that one. 😉

For February, our book club read Cassandra Speaks by Elizabeth Lesser. In general everyone in book club enjoyed this book–new perspective on old tales, well-written, and inviting self-inquiry, which generally resonates with the folks who attend. I always write out my thoughts before book club, which I find allows me to avoid some of the group-think nature discussions can take, and in this case I was really glad that I did since I also enjoyed the book, but felt it was three books in one, and would really have preferred an entire book dedicated to the themes of the first section.

In Cassandra Speaks, Lesser starts by retelling stories from Western literature as if they were told from the woman’s perspective. This, along with her thoughtful commentary, pulling out quotations from the original texts is incredibly impactful. She walks through the stories of Eve, Pandora, Cassandra and others, urging us to look at these as tales of curiousity, inquiry, self-actualization–effectively hero’s journies rather than tales of women luring men into sin. She consistently speculates on why these stories are told/retold and the impact that have on people in Western society, and then she encourages us to be willing to see the stories differently. In all ways I found this to be the most thought-provoking and interesting section of the book.

In the second section of the book she transitions into a discussion of power, and how many women reject power, while admitting that powerlessness is dangerous. She endeavors to reframe power from the historical notion of “power over others” to the ability to change and improve the lives of ourselves and others. While I resonate with this definition, I found it a bit idealistic: of course I attempt to empower others through connection, love, engagement, etc., but that doesn’t change certain structural elements of society, nor maybe do I feel I personally need to change society, if I can approach my life with the lens of empowering others instead of asserting my power over them.

In this section she also talks about the importance of activism and innervism. Innervism is a term I believe Lesser has coined (certainly I hadn’t heard it before), which she defines as self-work feeding “the part of me that seeks inner change, inner healing.” She says activism and innervism are not things we practice either or, but rather these are mutual pursuits that are a check and balance upon one another. The importance of this mutual work, fighting for change in the world, while acknowledging that sometimes the change that needs to be seen is actually work within yourself, resonated. So often do I see people who fight so hard for their truth that they miss the opportunity to hear the truths of others, and ultimately become myopic and misguided. She walks through concepts here from Jung and others about shadow work, which for those who have never read about it is a form of psychotherapy that involves exploring the aspects of the self that a person hides, ignores, or dislikes. The basis is effectively that we learn to withold certain elements of ourselves in childhood because they are not received well by others (our parents, siblings, friends, teachers, etc.) and in that process we can feel shame, etc. about these sometimes very normal feelings or desires. Understanding the parts of yourself you have learned to withhold, and reclaiming the parts you want or need is important. Of this section, the importance of continuing self-actualization in any pursuit was my favorite part.

In the final section of the book she lays out some tools and techniques to aid in being a force for good in the fight for equality. While I still found her insights here powerful (e.g. the concept of “do no hard, and take no sh*t”), I really didn’t love this part because I found it held moments of dissonance with me. For example, she talks about the need for new voices in literature, but then gives her list of best literature, which only includes female voices. I am sure she was trying to turn up the contrast, but for a book whose general theme is to increase equality it rubbed me a bit.

At its best, this book encourages you to think about the influences behind your own thoughts, whether literary, societal, or familial. Questioning the parts that don’t resonate with your life and reclaiming surpressed aspects of yourself that you want to embrace is a beautiful call to action. Our past is and always will be pertinent to our reality, but every day is a new chance to choose who we want to be and how we want to show up. There is something deeply beautiful in that call to action, so less for activism and more for the insights on innervism, I really enjoyed the book.

For book club in January we read The Age of AI: And Our Human Future by Eric Schmidt, Henry Kissinger, and Daniel Huttenkolcher. This book while recent (published at the end of ’21) is actually already a bit out-of-date given the rate of innovation in the domain of Artificial Intelligence, but still a good read. Everyone at Book Club enjoyed the book (actually more than I did I think!)

Pros: the book provides an excellent recap of AI’s progression through to generative artificial intelligence (including ChatGPT) in ways that feel prescient given where we are two years after its publication. The authors delve into the implications for society and governments, and make recommendations (not on specific policy, but on previous methodologies used to craft such doctrine) with the goal of ensuring that AI can continue to be a force for good, and not a case of further enmity and inequity between societies that can and cannot embrace the technology.

Cons: there was far more attention given to war-time implications of AI, and the risks of this technology without specific solution-oriented recommendations. There are many things being done in academia and at public companies to reduce bias and also to increase participation across the world of the use of AI for solving important problems from healthcare to environmental protection; this was barely glossed over in initial chapters, and that felt like a miss. Ethical AI, and its distribution is a matter of major research and industry engagement right now. The main focus of the book was more on the implications for nation states and how critical it was to begin bringing companies and countries together to align on an appropriate iteration of a deterrence doctrine. While I don’t disagree that policy makers need to include technologists and companies advancing the state of the art here, I felt that was a narrow and defensive focus for a book whose title at least has far greater implications.

My other critique of the book (shared by more folks than my feeling that it was too focused on national defense implications) was that this book is VERY Eurocentric. All of the examples from the Renaissance to the research are centered in Europe and America. While there is discussion about China and its specific national investments, no other nation outside of America and Europe is specifically mentioned (except Iran as a historical example of how nuclear policies unfolded). If one truly wants to give a call to action about the role of AI in international policy, it would have been better to be more inclusive in one’s world view.

In general I liked the book, but I have found classes and books on LLMs, and the advancements in gene therapy, protein folding, etc. so much more interesting than the national security and defense implications. I was in the minority of our book club with that perspective, which is more likely a testament to my pacifism than a real critique of the book. It is exactly what I would have pictured coming from a Kissinger book. Definitely worth a read for the historical recap if nothing else.