He eivät tiedä mitä tekevät by Jussi Valtonen

I don't usually review books that I haven't actually finished. Sorry Moby Dick, Trainspotting and The Anthology of British Poetry. But I will make an exception this time, for what is essentially a brilliant work by Finnish writer Jussi Valtonen. "He eivät tiedä mitä tekevät" roughly translates to "They don't know what they're doing" and I wouldn't fault you for expecting a narrative doused in post-millennium hubris and technology paranoia. Many have compared it to Jonathan Franzen's Freedom and I can see why. The similarities are mostly in the way that the subject matter is discussed, not so much the actual content. However, there are a few parallels such as both protagonists involvement in environmental issues.

Although I'm fairly certain that there are under 10 people in the world that have read both, I will go ahead and indulge myself in a few further comparisons. The biggest difference, I felt, was that after almost 500 pages into Valtonen's work, I still couldn't identify with any of the main cast. I found myself hoping for any positive developments, anything that could lift the tone of the novel from somber. But Valtonen gives us nothing to work with. I always felt depressed after reading this book, and however well written, I couldn't force myself to continue.

Perhaps these are not faults, at least in the literary criticism sense. There are redeeming factors aplenty, however. Valtonen's work is ambitious and mostly succeeds with displaying the ills of modern society. The topics range from the effect of technology on our lives to the way that we fool ourselves into believing in a certain world view. It's clever, intelligent and exceptionally thought-provoking. Valtonen has an engaging way of looking into the thoughts and emotions of his main characters, however dark or brooding they may be. I imagine one day "He eivät tiedä mitä tekevät" will be translated to English and when that day comes, I hope fans of Jonathan Franzen will look up and smile; they are not alone.

The Management Myth by Matthew Stewart

The subject of The Management Myth came up in friendly conversation over lunch. But the aftermath was anything but passive. The Management Myth happens to be one of those books (summarized brilliantly in an article in The Atlantic) that has readers with similar backgrounds disagreeing on almost every aspect of its story. On one hand, it's the story of Stewart himself and his explosive career in management consulting. On the other, it's about how management came to be in the first place. Students of business schools will love (or hate) The Management Myth, but other disciplines will find themselves without enough to hold on.

Over the course of a two-fold narrative, Stewart gives us the low-down on the management consulting industry. According to some fairly convincing evidence, we should be wary of the suit-touting consultant who whispers into the ear of chief executives and heads of political institutions. Throughout the book, Stewart makes some extremely convincing arguments and shows how the "science" of management is not a science at all. For me, this was definitely the right time to read this book. Its great support for a course on the philosophy of science.

But there is some silliness involved as well. Especially, I barely made it through the first few chapters on the management teachings of Taylor and others. Nobody takes Taylorism seriously, and probably hasn't taken it seriously in 50 years. Let's just forget about him. Also, not all of his argumentation is as convincing. Stewart makes management consulting out to be the absolute worst profession, but I would have loved to hear some discussion of even a few possible merits. His case is so convincing that those few caveats would not have spoiled it, on the contrary.

The Undercover Economist by Tim Harford

I wasn't too keen on reading another non-fiction economics book, especially after Superfreakanomics, Nudge, Thinking Fast and Slow and so on. But I was surprised by how much I enjoyed The Undercover Economist, and how much new insight I got. Overall, it follows more or less the same trajectory as a course on micro-economics that I took in Switzerland last year, but apparently a second time through the basic building blocks of our economy teaches even more than the first.

The Undercover Economist is essentially the story of how the economic and social world around us works. Even if it is not a complete or exhausting look, it offers enough of the basic knowledge to feel like a complete work. I won't be going into a list of things that Harford discusses, but I will say that even pedestrian readers (or social science students, god forbid) will understand the content.

Harford's prose is exacting and full of the type of dry British humor that makes me snicker in public places if I happen to be reading this. In a way, I wish that everyone would read this book, because it is easy to understand, concise and presents a clear-headed look on many things that influence our everyday lives. So many things are said in newspapers that bear little resemblance to fact that most people would benefit greatly from reading The Undercover Economist. And remember, that I'm saying this even though I doubted its value in the first place.

The Spy Who Came in from the Cold by John le Carre

Having watched countless James Bond films, I thought that I had a pretty good idea of what the Cold War was about. The espiongage, the deceit, the double crosses and especially the dark undercurrents that crept over what seemed like a life of glamour, had formed a relatively clear idea in my head of what it was like to live in that era. Now, I'm not the first one to point out that John le Carre does an excellent job of showing a grittier and more realistic side of espionage. But sometimes everyone should be reminded of how things really were.

The Spy Who Came in from the Cold is a brilliant, jarring and especially succint account of a spy's journey from Berlin to Britain and back. The few characters are excellently portrayed in as few words as possible, and le Carre is deliberate in his wording. It made me think of The Bridge over the River Kwai and Dashiell Hammett, a piece of art that has managed to become even more convincing decades after its release. The story is as powerful as ever, but so is the idealogy. In a world once again divided by east and west, The Spy Who Came in from the Cold is a fascinating read.