Did you know, that you run a greater risk of being killed by pigs than by sharks? And now that you know, do you fear pigs more than sharks?

In Beyond Fear, Thinking sensibly about security in an uncertain world, Bruce Schneier explains security, and manages to do so in a way that is clear, understandable, sensible, surprising and interesting. Here’s a quote from the book:

Fear is the barrier between ignorance and understanding. It’s paralyzing. It makes us do dumb things. Moving beyond fear means freeing up out intelligence, our practical common sense, and our imagination. In terms of understanding and implementing sensible security, moving beyond fear means making trade-offs openly, intelligently, and honestly. Security is a state of mind, but a mind focused on problem-solving and problem-anticipating. Security is flexible. Fear is also a state of mind, but it’s brittle. It results in paranoia, paralysis, and bad security trade-offs.

The book pokes hole after hole in traditional security thinking. Strict airline check-ins, NY subway bag checks, armed sky marshalls and ID-checks at corporate and public buildings are all exposed for what they really are: Bad security trade-offs that result in large expenses and much inconvenience and offer little real increase in security.

The book is great and it’s also important. It shows us how to keep our collective sanity and uphold civic liberties in an increasingly complex and uncertain age. Read it!

When I was a kid, danish bakers had maybe 4 different kinds of bread. Today? Forget about it. There’s french bread, italian bread, danish bread, white or whole grain, with or without spices, etc…

We are arguably living in the age of choice. There is no aspect of life that does not offer people of the western world more choice today than we had 100 years ago. Or 50. Or 10. Or just last year. And here’s the kicker: Among all these choices, we’re becoming LESS happy. Some common trends in western societies are:
* Lower satisfaction with lives
* Much(!) higher incidences of depression
* Higher suicide rates

And that’s why The Paradox of Choice by Barry Schwartz is a tremendously important book. The choices we have are not going away – we wouldn’t want them to. This makes it crucial that we understand why more choices lead to less happiness and figure out what to do about it.

At the core of it, the reason is simple: Each new choice offers more options of choosing badly. More risk of missing an even better choice. Here’s one experiment demonstrating this: Volunteers in a psychological experiment were asked to sample and rate a number of different chocolates. One group sampled more chocolates than the other. The group that sampled the most chocolates gave the chocolates an overall lower rating, and when given a choice between money or chocolate as a reward for participating, were more likely to choose money.

One of the book’s main distinctions is between Maximizers and Satisficers. When faced with a decision, Satisficers strive to make a good decision. Maximizers, on the other hand, need to know they’ve made the best decision. They will agonize over decisions before making them, and typically regret them afterwards. Interestingly, maximizers are much more prone to ruminating on their own failings and even to bouts of depression.

Another book that deals with a similar phenomenon is Happiness by Richard Layard. This book argues that the increasing wealth of western countries does not lead to a corresponding increase in happiness – and that nations should be governed on the basis of what will make people happy, instead of what will make them rich.

Taking these two books together strengthens each argument: There is probably no more happiness to be gained from an increase in the number of choices offered us or from an increase in our wealth. Neither the choices nor the wealth is going away, so what we need to do is to learn to be happy in this situation. Sounds non-sensical, doesn’t it? Do we really need to learn to cope with wealth and choices? Well, experience tends to confirm that many people do – and that’s why Barry Shwartz’s book is so important.

George Thompson was on patrol with a fellow cop at two A.M., when they were called out to break up a nasty domestic dispute in a bad part of town. Upon arrival they found the couple arguing wildly, and this is where Thompson’s partner adopted an outrageous tactic: He walked straight in without knockin, sat down on their couch and started reading the classifieds.

Bruce kept reading and the couple kept arguing, occasionally looking at the cop on their couch. Bruce rattled the newspaper. “Folks, folks, excuse me, over here”. The stunned husband flashed a double take. “What are you doing here?”

Bruce said, “You got a phone? Look here, a 1950 Dodge! Cherry condition! Can I borrow your phone? I need to call right now.” The husband pointed to the phone, incredulous. Bruce dialed, mumbled into the phone, then hung up. “Can you believe they wouldn’t talk to me just because it’s two in the morning?”

By now the fight had evaporated, the couple standing there as dumbfounded as I was. “By the way,” Bruce said, “is anything the matter here? Anything my partner and I can do for you?”

Verbal Judo, the gentle art of persuasion by George Thompson is a book about non-violent, respectful communication by the one person who may be the most qualified to write it; Thompson is a cop and a self-admitted hot-head (making it necessary for him to develop good verbal skills) and has black belts in ju-jitsu and judo – not to mention a Ph.D. in english.

The book contains many excellent insights into communicating efficiently in difficult situations. The book’s lessons can be applied equalle well on the job or at home. It is also refreshingly different from most of todays management fare, which can seem glib and superficial. This book by contrast has heart, and Thompson obviously cares deeply about his message. In his line of work there’s a lot more at stake, than whether a business meeting goes sour – and his stories of using the techniques to calm down irate would-be attackers are fascinating and often touching.