Fans pick 100 books like The Hedgehog, the Fox, and the Magister's Pox

The issues of free will and consciousness are, to my limited mind, inextricably linked. And so, while Dennett somewhat overpromised and underdelivered with his well-known Consciousness Explained (tremendously hard not to underdeliver with a title like that) here I think he’s much more on the money. I think of all the books that I’ve read which address, either directly or tangentially, the issue of how the mind works, this is the one that gave me the clearest new insight into how we might think about, well, thinking. Dennett is a fine thinker and an excellent communicator but he tends to lose nuance when he goes combative. This is one of his gentler books, and all the better for it.

V. S. Ramachandran is a gifted experimentalist and writer who does not hesitate to pursue deep and important questions about our minds. Rather than employing expensive imaging or large sample sizes, he is more likely to use a cardboard box, an old stereopticon, or a rubber hand in his experiments. 

His creativity in finding concrete ways to test seemingly vague but interesting claims about our minds has led to several breakthroughs, in our understanding of phantom limbs and our ability to treat phantom pain, and also in our study of synesthesia—cases in which people see numbers as having colors, for example.

As I can attest, he is able to transmit to his students the idea that pursuing scientific questions can be thrilling, fulfilling, and so much fun that you can’t wait to get to work in the morning.

Bookshelves groan under the weight of highly skilled science communicators, and through them those of us with no specialist knowledge can learn about evolution, quantum mechanics, neuroscience et al, and then bore people to death with our newfound knowledge. There is, however, a world of difference between the things science discovers and the stories we tell about these discoveries. I love this book because it makes the reader do the hard yards, thinking not just about the breathless new discoveries, but also the very nature of this knowledge, and hence its limits.

I think glorious failures are far more interesting than modest successes, and let’s face it, any book that attempts to explain consciousness is bound to fail on so many levels. What I love about Hofstadter’s work is its boldness and reach. He’s as happy in the world of abstract metaphor as he is speaking of science or mathematics, and understands that we need new metaphors of consciousness just as badly as we need new scientific models. And even though he flounders at times, it kind of doesn’t matter, because of the sheer energy and verve of his quest: sort of Don Quixote with a calculator. For the math geeks amongst you, there’s an unusually clear and careful discussion of the incompleteness theorem as well. What’s not to like?

The cover illustrations for The Green Umbrella captivated my attention. It shows a playful elephant holding a green umbrella floating in the rain, jumping through puddles. The world that elephant lives in feels both foreign and familiar. On his rainy day walk, he encounters a hedgehog, cat, bear, rabbit, who all claim the green umbrella as their own. Each of them using it for a delightfully inventive purpose. As in all great kids' books, the message of sharing is tenderly disguised. The painted collage illustrations are textured with gorgeous details.

Renée is the concierge in an elegant Paris hotel. Widowed and in her 50s, she calls herself “short, ugly and plump,” a working-class nobody. She takes refuge in aesthetics and ideas but refuses to let her knowledge show. Renée’s friend in the building is 12-year-old Paloma, beyond precocious, who feels so let down by the meaningless in the world that she plans to commit suicide. Both characters are philosophers of sorts.  “Beauty consists of its own passing, just as we reach for it,” says Paloma. In the end, they rescue one another from despair and loneliness. The experience of the book that was so satisfying for me, is the exchange of ideas about life and happiness, which are expressed more as a kind of philosophical discourse rather than a traditionally plotted novel. The ideas, expressed so intelligently and poetically, kept me going.

This book stands as a glaring reminder of how we have to advocate for ourselves and our health. This book painfully illustrates the corruption of our health"care" system. Summary: an intriguing look at how influence and reductionism play into modern science, including insight into the vitamin supplement industry and how medical science is caught up in a reductionist paradigm.

This selection of essays focuses on the important concept of “downward causation” (a designation first employed by Donald T. Campbell), that is, the idea that, in addition to the “upward” causal influence of parts on wholes, which is the focus of stereotypical (bottom-up) reductionist views, wholes also exercise top-down emergent causal influences on their parts.

This has been a vital recurring issue and an identifying principle in most theories of emergence. Campbell and Mark H. Bickhard provide the culminating chapter in this book.

This is Ian’s first past life book and in my view his best of many.

Wanting to have his own experience of a past life before writing the book Ian came to me for a past life regression to discover if past lives were real. He regressed into a past life of being tortured by having his fingernails removed that totally convinced him that the experience was real.

The book has a summary of the work of many pioneers in past life regression and their books and also future life regression. Ian presents information in a rational way and has done amazing research to dismiss much of skeptic’s criticism in early past books.

We appreciate this book because it helped us to introduce the concept of a ‘hierarchical category,’ which is necessary to describe our MES. We accomplished this by translating Koestler's concept of a "hierarchy of holons," where a holon embodies a 'hybrid nature' akin to a two-faced Janus.

Technically, a hierarchical category organizes objects into numbered levels (0 to m). An object at level n is dual-faced: 'simple' compared to levels above n, but 'complex' compared to levels < n, this object being the "colimit" (or combination) of linked objects < n. Within a hierarchical category, we compute the 'complexity order' for each object. The category aligns with pure reductionism if it lacks objects with a complexity order greater than 1.