100 books like The Art of Not Being Governed

Working between cultures, as I do, I have been reading the Sinologist François Jullien for many years. I like how he traces the passage of an idea across cultures as they reveal tensions between the same and the different. The question Jullien poses with this book is, “Are universal values possible,” especially between the East and the West?

Although a common concept may exist, this does not mean a common meaning does. In my experience, we all communicate constantly, oscillating between understanding and misunderstanding, which is more so when cultural differences occur.

The once-read, never forgotten Wittgenstein statement: ‘The limits of my language mean the limits of my world,’ ever resonates–I believe language mediates all sensory experience, but often inadequately.

In what I do and how I feel, I cannot avoid confronting the times we all live, called the “end times.” What they name is the end of an epoch of total planetary domination by Homo sapiens.

A moment of nemesis has arrived. What has been discovered, if unevenly, is that our collective world-making has revealed itself to be an unmaking. The history and the future of climate change, literally and metaphorically, stand for this moment.

The Brazilian anthropologists Deborah and Eduardo Viveiros de Castro powerfully capture not just the causes of this planetary crisis but, in my view, present ways of thinking and working toward affirmative futures.

As one of my favorite novels, I find something unexpected every time I read this book. It takes you to a dystopic world, not so much as what it would look like, but how it would feel. I find it affirmative in its negativity. It takes me to what I value and wants to protect, cherish, and continue to experience. It has been part of a lesson I learned long ago and have lived by.

If you want things to be better, what is bad has to be confronted without turning away and surmounted by overcoming, adaptation, or acceptance.

For me, Bernard Stiegler was one of the most influential thinkers of technology of the modern age. I like books that bring my own thinking into question. His book does this for me by providing an interesting and unfamiliar way of understanding the relation between technology and consumerism.

He describes consumerism as damaging our psychic sphere and destroying our desires–replacing them with ones formed and met by marketed commodities. What I found insightful was how he showed “reason” being transformed by philosophy into an object of faith.

The result: reason now travels with the unreason of an unchecked rationalization of power of technological creation, but with little sense of the consequences, over time, of what has been created (think AI!).

I first met Graham when I was a PhD student attending a conference on religion & animals. He is a person who seems drawn to and across boundaries of scholarship, and though this book is scholarly, it’s also a totally accessible overview of the ways in which animism is not some primitive ideology but, rather, core to human experience and cultures all over the world. Harvey provides a careful treatment of historical and contemporary animist perspectives, nonhuman personhood, and the formation of animistic sensibilities. He details how animism fosters a constant dialogue between humans and non-human persons—a kind of social, spiritual, and ecological conversation that is continuously negotiated. Animism is not a thing of the past; it’s a way of life that is vital to a viable future. 

I randomly found The Break in a bookstore and was drawn in by the cover, which features a light-skinned Indigenous woman wearing a black dress covered in florals. It immediately reminded me of a ceremonial dress that was taken from White Earth long ago and now sits in a museum in Washington DC.

There is grief in the many removals and losses Indigenous people have endured through the years, and real human consequences that echo down the generations. But I feel fuller and wiser when I get to explore this through other’s perspectives.

There are many characters to keep track of in this book, but it is gratifying to get lost in their journeys, gleaning insights and teachings from their stories.

Most Canadians are likely unaware that Canada has an official national summer game and that it is lacrosse. Even fewer realize that the sport reflects a tangled story of appropriation and reappropriation that exposes complex relationships between European and Indigenous peoples.

In a provocative and creative book, Downey, an Indigenous historian, uses First Nations storytelling and his own rigorous research to follow the transformation of lacrosse by Anglophone Montrealers and their exclusion of Indigenous players.

By the end of the nineteenth century, lacrosse was the most popular sport in Canada, before giving way to hockey. Then, almost a century later, the sport was reclaimed by a new generation of Indigenous athletes and activists who used the game as part of a broader cultural and spiritual renewal.

For these athletes, the current goal is to have the Haudenosaunee Nationals recognized as an independent participant at the Olympic Games in 2028.

Although this book is set in 1952, I picked it because I have a soft spot for Easter Island. In the 1990s, when working on a cruise ship, I was fortunate enough to visit this remote place and was deeply fascinated by the Moai statues and how society can function so far from the mainland.

Dr. Verdugo, a doctor recruited to the island, gives a vivid account of the culture shock he experienced there, and the carefree, simple culture of the locals. This mirrored my own experience on Tin Can Island in Tonga, as did his insights into the importance of family ties, tradition, and the solitude one experiences on such a remote island. 

We as a nation and society are on the road to truth and reconciliation. Critical to that journey are stories such as I Am Not a Number. The book tells the heartbreaking story of Irene, the author’s grandmother, and her brothers who were taken away from their home on Nipissing First Nation to live at a residential school, very far from home. At the school, names are not used. All students are known by numbers. This story will inspire important conversations that will help younger generations understand the horrors so many indigenous children endured in the residential schools. It is a dark part of our history, kept secret by past generations, that is only now coming to light through these powerful stories.

This is foundational work for anyone building, creating, or designing on the planet today.

If you care about the Earth, about other humans, or about other species, you need to read it. This book is about Indigenous thinking. We love that it is grounded in story, connection, and symbiosis with the natural world.