The best books about how the things in our world get made and work

I loved how this book reads like a thriller—a David and Goliath thriller—in which a lowly clockmaker competed against the foremost scientists of his era and won—and even after he had won, he had to fight dastardly efforts by the elites of his day to deprive him of his prize and hard-earned fame.

The book spoke to my fascination with how things get made and why craftsmanship is important. But it also spoke to my concern with class and how those in power can rig things to their benefit, with, in this case, the happy result that good triumphed over evil.

This book completely changed how I thought about the technology that surrounds us, the electric grid, assembly line production, the military-industrial complex, and on and on.

I grew up at the end of the time period Hughes writes about when all these huge technological systems were in place. I didn’t give them a thought. They were like the air we breathe. But they were created during this century, and it was amazing to read about this transformation of our world.

Reading this book, for me, was like learning to see the world I live in anew, to feel the air we breathe.

When I was a kid, one of my favorite books was The Way Things Work, not the more recent David Macaulay book—which is also good—but the earlier 1967 book by T. Lodewijk. With great diagrams, it showed how complicated machines work.

Randall Munroe's Thing Explainer, while less comprehensive, similarly captures this magic for me. It has great diagrams and simple clarifying text—self-consciously limited to the 1,000 words people use the most. I could stare at the diagrams for hours, learning about everything from cameras (“picture takers”) to submarines (“boats that go under the sea”).

Initially, The Gift might seem an odd choice for this category. Hyde argues that art must be part of a gift economy, not simply commercially bought and sold, but also given and received. I had a chance encounter with Hyde’s father, who was appropriately proud of his son’s book, but he said that he thought the same analysis could be made about how science operates.

This idea changed my perspective on science and technology. When I began to look at science and technology this way, it made sense to me. Scientists will frequently trade what they have learned with each other, for example at conferences—they give their information away in exchange for prestige and for return gifts of information from other scientists. It is part of being a member of the science club.

Another odd choice for this category and an unusual but nonetheless compelling book. Elkins talks about painting in terms of medieval alchemy. The point, however, is right down my street: it is about the materiality of painting.

Put aside the meaning of a finished artwork and think about the acts behind its making, from creating paint from various pigments and oils to brushing them on stretched canvas. This helped me understand the lives of people who work with materials, things, and stuff, including scientists and engineers. What they think is important, but so is what they do and their facility in doing it.