Eduardo Santiago
UPDATE: Second, slower reading. I found it more somber this time around, and it's entirely because of the zeitgeist. Johnson's message has not changed -- connection is how we can heal -- but September 2025 is a much grimmer world than June 2025. On the plus side, this reinforces Johnson's imperative to tackle the issue bottom up; on the down side, grassroots is hard; but then, back to the plus side, challenges bring out the best in us. Let's take this on. Read this, and push to build community. Take a hike. Plant a tree. Sit in comfortable silence with a loved one. And pass it on.
We are sick; we are tired; and we are sick and tired of the increasingly downward spiral we're in. Johnson addresses our unwellness from many perspectives, using a systems-level view to converge on an integrated picture of what ails us, how we got here, and where we need to focus if we want to fix things. She draws from her experiences as a medical practitioner and an acequia community member. She cites up-to-date research, and she's done her homework: the text is well dotted with end notes in all the appropriate places, and those references are current and relevant.
Johnson's argument boils down to the undeniable fact that humans evolved as cooperators, not just with each other but with our environment: awareness of surroundings, and recognition of reciprocal needs and responsibilities, is what kept our ancestors alive and even thriving. The hijacking of social norms by self-absorbed greedy individualists has cost us dearly. This will not come as a surprise to most readers, since we tend to self-select... but it might be news to some of our less aware friends-and-relations, so this is a book to read and then pass along strategically.
What was a surprise to me was Johnson's inspiring final chapters. She asserts that we already have the principal tool we need to address our situation: imagination. Since imagination does not spring ex nihilo, she provides a helping hand: examples of successful (albeit small-scale) cultural shifts that have led to progress. Maybe you, or someone you gift this book to, will envision a step-by-step path to a healthier planet and a healthier us.
I felt uncomfortable in two dimensions. First, the privilege: access to trees and birds and land and silence will never be possible in a planet of N-billion humans. Second, the privilege: the precautionary principle espoused in chapter 11 has a strong anti-development hint to it. Both of these issues are much too complex to go into here; and, to be fair, Johnson acknowledges them to some extent. I can live with my discomfort, because the book's assets—its arguments, evidence, insights, and above all its intriguing final chapters of promise—far outweigh the negatives.
Thank you North Atlantic Books for providing this book for review consideration via NetGalley. All opinions are my own.
UPDATE: Second, slower reading. I found it more somber this time around, and it's entirely because of the zeitgeist. Johnson's message has not changed -- connection is how we can heal -- but September 2025 is a much grimmer world than June 2025. On the plus side, this reinforces Johnson's imperative to tackle the issue bottom up; on the down side, grassroots is hard; but then, back to the plus side, challenges bring out the best in us. Let's take this on. Read this, and push to build community. Take a hike. Plant a tree. Sit in comfortable silence with a loved one. And pass it on.
We are sick; we are tired; and we are sick and tired of the increasingly downward spiral we're in. Johnson addresses our unwellness from many perspectives, using a systems-level view to converge on an integrated picture of what ails us, how we got here, and where we need to focus if we want to fix things. She draws from her experiences as a medical practitioner and an acequia community member. She cites up-to-date research, and she's done her homework: the text is well dotted with end notes in all the appropriate places, and those references are current and relevant.
Johnson's argument boils down to the undeniable fact that humans evolved as cooperators, not just with each other but with our environment: awareness of surroundings, and recognition of reciprocal needs and responsibilities, is what kept our ancestors alive and even thriving. The hijacking of social norms by self-absorbed greedy individualists has cost us dearly. This will not come as a surprise to most readers, since we tend to self-select... but it might be news to some of our less aware friends-and-relations, so this is a book to read and then pass along strategically.
What was a surprise to me was Johnson's inspiring final chapters. She asserts that we already have the principal tool we need to address our situation: imagination. Since imagination does not spring ex nihilo, she provides a helping hand: examples of successful (albeit small-scale) cultural shifts that have led to progress. Maybe you, or someone you gift this book to, will envision a step-by-step path to a healthier planet and a healthier us.
I felt uncomfortable in two dimensions. First, the privilege: access to trees and birds and land and silence will never be possible in a planet of N-billion humans. Second, the privilege: the precautionary principle espoused in chapter 11 has a strong anti-development hint to it. Both of these issues are much too complex to go into here; and, to be fair, Johnson acknowledges them to some extent. I can live with my discomfort, because the book's assets—its arguments, evidence, insights, and above all its intriguing final chapters of promise—far outweigh the negatives.
Thank you North Atlantic Books for providing this book for review consideration via NetGalley. All opinions are my own.