The most recommended books about personal values in ethics

Most commentators see neoliberalism as primarily an economic project that tries to overcome old cultural prejudices and divisions. Cooper shows us that beneath this cosmopolitan façade, neoliberalism has always been about reinforcing traditional hierarchies of race, gender, and sexuality. Through a painstaking review of the actual roll-out of neoliberal policy from Reagan to Obama, she shows that racism, sexism, homophobia, and nationalism are not outdated “leftovers” from a previous era but an essential part of the neoliberal order.

This is the most influential book on my own thinking about meaningfulness in life. Wolf's idea that a meaningful life is distinct from both a happy life and a moral one—although there can be overlapping with these—is both simple and profound. And, unlike many contemporary philosophers, her writing is clear and accessible.

This is an original view of the Enlightenment by one of the most exciting of its current historians. The Enlightenment urged people to think for themselves; intellectual authority resided ultimately within the individual. It valued the emotions as highly as reason; emotions included what philosophers called ‘the passions’, not just sympathy with others, but individual desires and appetites. The Enlightenment was also a period of increasing material prosperity, in which some thinkers still praised the virtue of frugality, while others pointed out that luxury and self-indulgence were necessary to drive the modern economy. These arguments, displayed here with energy and clarity, are with us still.

The contribution Mary Gentile has made to modern-day business ethics education is unparalleled and it is in Giving Voice to Values that the story behind the curriculum she has developed resides. This book outlines the assumptions, research, and principles associated with the unique approach to business ethics education Gentile has developed. But more importantly, it provides the reader with practical guidance and advice on how they can prepare for and engage in those (at times challenging) conversations that aim to address issues with ethical import in their organisations. After reading this book, tools like pre-scripting, practice, and peer coaching will become part of your repertoire, and you will be better for it.

The concept of the ‘good ancestor,’ originally coined by physician Jonas Salk, is the focus of Roman Krznaric’s excellent book about our relationship with future generations.

I’ve known Roman for a few years now: he spoke about long-term time on a panel I organised at the Hay Festival a few years ago, and he makes an appearance in my own book on a trip we both made to the House of Lords to watch a debate about future generation policy.

He is a crystal clear thinker and communicator, and I’ve learnt a lot from him. One of the most interesting (of many) ideas in his book is the idea that we are “colonising” the future: treating it as some distant no-man’s land where we can dump environmental degradation, malignant heirlooms, carbon emissions, and so on.

Of course, the future belongs to the people living there: our grandchildren. Roman makes a… show more.

I love this book because it feels deep—it is deep—but it’s also engaging. There’s a story and characters to follow, but at its core, it’s a fascinating introduction to philosophy.

The meaning of life, the big questions, how to understand and negotiate the world. I first read it as a teenager during my gap year in Southeast Asia, and it was the perfect mental companion to the bombardment of my physical senses. Zen turned my perception of the world upside down, and I reread it occasionally.

It has one of the most memorable titles of all time, and I still quote its core message, which involves motorcycle maintenance.

Of all my superb teachers at Oxford, one stood out: Ronald (Ronnie) Dworkin. He was the sharpest scholar I have ever met. I attended most of his seminars and some of his lectures during my four years at Oxford and deeply cherished my private talks with him. Ronnie was a master communicator of ideas, orally and in writing. He would come to class with an empty yellow pad and speak for one hour non-stop. In this book, Dworkin discusses truth in morals, moral skepticism, moral responsibility, dignity, free will, political rights and concepts. I could have chosen any one of his other great books – Taking Rights Seriously, A Matter of Principle, or Sovereign Virtue. I choose Justice for Hedgehogs because this book discusses themes that I also constantly engage with: Truth, social responsibility, dignity, democracy, equality, liberty, and justice. 

Our nation’s most insightful—and readable—sociologist? Boston College’s Juliet Schorr has my vote.

Over the past quarter-century, Schor has probably done more than anyone else in the world to bring grand conceptual constructs like income distribution down to the nitty-gritty of daily life.

Her 1999  best-seller, The Overspent American, strikingly exposes how inequality unleashes a “competitive consumption” dynamic that has us consuming ever more and enjoying life ever less. And that dynamic poses more dangers today than ever before.

As Schor put it in an interview with her I did some years back, we have “no chance” at achieving ecological sustainability “with the kind of extreme income distribution” that we have today. 

Featured prominently in the plot of the NBC comedy The Good Place, Scanlon’s 1998 book covers much more than reasons and metaethics – it offers an ambitious explanatory theory of where our moral obligations to one another come from, and why they have the particular shape that they do – including of why we can’t justify doing terrible things to someone just because it benefits many other people. But in the first two chapters of the book, Scanlon also offers a large range of important and influential arguments about the nature of reasons and their relationship to both desire and value, and those two chapters in their own right merit this book a place on this list, in addition to its many other virtues.

Was the West of the late 1800s truly as violent as we imagine? And if it was, why was it that people were shooting each other on the streets?

Richard Brown’s book provides decisive answers to these questions. Yes, some corners of the West were strikingly bloody. But what spurred this violence wasn’t just personal feuds or poker table rivalries. It was particularly politics that drove the rash of gunfighting in this unsettled era.

Did you know that “Wild Bill” Hickok was a diehard Republican and that most of the people he shot were Democrats? Or, that Jesse James was a lifelong Democrat who usually robbed Republicans? When we forget the political realities of the West, we flatten the past–but Brown’s book provides an antidote to this.