The 2026 FIFA World Cup

Yesterday was my birthday and the final of the FIFA football World Cup (or soccer). For once this year, I didn't feel super inspired to organize something to celebrate my birthday, and while I'm happy Spain won (my grandparents were Spanish), watching the game was boring enough to not feel like such a celebration.

By an interesting set of random circumstances, I'd never watched so much football in my life. 

I happened to be traveling in the US to visit my in-laws, my baby son fell ill, a heatwave, and there I was watching football with my brother in law. I started following around the end of the group stage and I kind of got hooked. I rarely follow much football aside from the World Cup but usually towards the end of the competition, and even then not necessarily every time. 

Now it's over I'm trying to remember why I became so interested in it. My younger brother was and always has been into football. It was convenient to be on the same time zone. It was too hot outside to do much at the times the games were happening (except for the players themselves if the stadium wasn't an AC covered dome). Perhaps for Americans appreciative of spectator team sports, it was an acceptable way to spend time.

Or more accurately, for some reason I started seeing what millions of other football fans see and I suppose why they follow, and spend time and often a lot of money on football (tickets and jerseys for example), even though it is also touted as the beautiful game in part because of how cheap and accessible it is for everyone, anywhere in the world. All you need is a ball, or as I've seen kids play with in Tanzania many years ago, a bunch of used plastic bags tied with strings.

On that note, there were some excellent teams representing Africa. I really enjoyed watching the Ivory Coast, Morocco, Egypt, and Cape Verde play.

I'm digressing, here is what I saw and started enjoying in football:

Anything can happen in a truly exciting way. Most of the time there are few goals, so every one of them is a big event, and they can happen until the very last second. Conversely, the opposite can also happen, sometimes there is little action, players kicking the ball back and forth and it becomes kind of boring to watch. Like the final last night.

Players are consumed athletes. Their skills with the ball are impressive and it's inspiring to watch their ball  tricks, dribbles, accelerations, kicks, headers, etc. They spend enormous amounts of efforts running up and down a big pitch, it's obviously dynamic. Sometimes it gets pretty rough, physical, and dramatic too – which can also be its own form of fun (possibly with a dash of schadenfreude).

Technically the World Cup should be, and I guess really is, a moment for patriotic nationalistic pride. I did support France. That said given I have multiple ties, I'm also happy to support Spain, the Netherlands (my father was Dutch), and the USA (where I was born). However, I've found the first two points to overtake supporting any one team most of the time. I'd be making excited noises whoever was making an interesting play towards the goal, well, because it was an interesting play. I like to watch fun football. I didn't support Paraguay much against France in the quarter-finals though. They just came across as a bunch of mean bullies.

Still, the day after France was defeated by Spain in the semi-finals, I realized I was sadder than I thought at the end of game. Most people I talked to were equally baffled. It did feel like something had happened to them to go from the competition favorites to being beaten, first in spirit during that game (maybe?) and with two goals against them. I felt deflated, and again watching England lose to Argentina the following day (I lived in England for many years, and they had a great team in this competition).

I eyed the game for the third place from afar, just checking the score, I had other plans. It seemed it was quite the event with ten goals scored, though not what I'd have hoped for France.

I turned the final game on with fairly low levels of enthusiasm. Maybe I'd already saturated on football, but I wanted to see the whole competition I now felt committed to. It was long and slow, those games can happen to, and the tough point is when you know the situation can completely change within a few seconds, the choice to keep watching or stop and miss out on the action can be a tough one. 

Maybe that's the final piece of turning someone into a football fan, the fear of missing out. That probably only works if you take the team supporting seriously, and I don't all that much. I'm happy to know I can appreciate and talk about football, and I'm equally happy to take a long break and not watch any for a long while now.

One Battle After Another movie review

 

I saw the trailer, the posters, and the wildly positive reviews from nearly all the most known movie critics. Long and short of it, I wanted to anyways, but seeing the critical reception I thought best to go to the cinema and see the latest Paul Thomas Anderson movie One Battle After Another, featuring Leonardo DiCaprio, as soon as possible, before I heard too much about the movie. 

The trailer was confusing to me. It seemed like some kind of gonzo revolution story with a lost and haggard looking man, Leonardo Di Caprio as the main protagonist, possibly fighting The Man, capital M. Difficult to get much else than that general vibe, though it certainly sounded intriguing to me. 

I don't particularly enjoy spoilers so this review won't contain any, I won't even go into much more of the actual storyline or events unfolding. I am pretty much as enthusiastic as most of the positive critics reviews, and recommend you watch it and make up your own mind. It's probably the best movie I've seen at the cinema this year. The one I saw before was Ari Aster's Eddington that I didn't write or post about, and funny enough while different I feel there are similarities. They both take place in mostly remote places in the United States southwest near the Mexican border, for example. There's more, but some of the landscapes are similar, at the very least. The photography is gorgeous.

One Battle After Another's vibe feels both gonzo and alternate enough that one wonders if this is meant to be a slightly different parallel universe, or a slightly secret or fictional layer to our own. Themes are similar enough to our world that I'm tempted to go with the second option, though they're arguably similar enough to maybe not matter. One way or another it mirrors struggles related to inequalities and the concentration of power and money. The movie is also frantic, with enough slow and tense scenes for the faster paced ones to shine.

Both famous and lesser known actors are fantastic. Teyana Taylor, Sean Penn, and Benicio Del Toro play characters I feel are very anchored in their own factions and worldviews, while Leonardo DiCaprio's Bob quickly feels like a pinball being shot from one side of the board to the other with little agency of his own.

I loved it, but some might think it is a little long, an affliction of many movies these days. And the gonzo level might not be to everyone's liking. I enjoyed the chaotic ride, but without going into much detail, some might think it is a bit lacking in consistency. There is a little bit of "what did I just watch?" feeling at the end, though arguably less than for Eddington – for me at least.

Invitation to a Banquet: The Story of Chinese Food book review

 

I invited a group of ten friends to have a big Chinese Sichuan Sunday lunch for my birthday this past summer, as a result one of my friends who had heard of this book got it as a gift for the occasion. I absolutely loved it; one of my favourite reads in a while. This is just to preface that I'm completely biased: if the title sounds even remotely interesting, you can stop now and just go buy it. Suffice to say I highly recommend reading it

Invitation to a Banquet by Fuchsia Dunlop is an expertly and lovingly cooked non-fiction book blending the author's personal experiences of eating and cooking Chinese food, with a sweeping cultural and historical account of food in China. 

I've been enchanted with the structure of the book, organised in four sections titled hearth, farm, kitchen, and table. Every chapter is like zooming in a kaleidoscope called "Chinese food," representing an essential ingredient or component to explore for the reader. Every chapter is also like a snowflake, uniquely different yet broadly following the same structure: a personal story, a time and place, a dish to illustrate the aspect being examined (may it be about rice, roasting with fire, or a mind-boggling extensive vocabulary of cooking techniques), along with historical and cultural references.

Fuchsia Dunlop's writing is as delightful as it is mouth-watering. I've had the chance of traveling in mainland China twice (and Hong Kong a couple more times) but it was already a long time ago now. Reading, I was fondly reminded of some of my best food and travel memories. I want to learn to cook more of these dishes now, and I'd love to go back, see more of China, and eat at the Dragon Well Manor restaurant one day.

The academic and professional cooking references and stories are compelling. The chapter titled "The Power of Steam" opens with the author mentioning "the Banpo village near Xi'an, one of China's most important Neolithic archeological sites." A little further she adds: "More than six thousand years ago, at the very dawn of the Chinese civilisation, people here were already using steamers to cook their food." A page later, she references a paragraph from a writer who travelled to Beijing in 1793 and who didn't seem too happy with steamed bread. I added several other books from the same author, and from the bibliography, to my reading list. 

I believe, and it is pretty much stated, that the intention is to give readers an appreciation of the richness and sophistication of Chinese food culture in all its possible forms over time. As a result, I went out to order and eat several of the dishes I was reading about, classics I love like Sichuan Mapo Tofu or Yuxiang "fish fragrant" aubergines. I prepared a quick and simple broth for lunch before writing this. I stopped at the Asian grocery shop on the way back from the gym, to add ready-made pork dumplings, pak choi (bok choy) that I quickly cut and blanched, some carrots slices I had in the fridge, topped it all with chopped scallion and a dash of sesame oil. Bon appétit!

Dennis Morris Music+Life

 Absolutely fantastic expo of Dennis Morris photos in Paris at MEP - Maison Européenne de la Photographie - allez-y si vous êtes à Paris (jusqu'au 18/5)!

Dennis Morris was 13 years old in 1973, taking photos in and around Hackney and other parts of London. He heard Bob Marley and the Wailers were going to perform at the Speakeasy Club (who weren't as widely famous at the time), so he decided to skip school and wait at the artist entrance, hoping to meet his idol.

Dennis' quote from the board at the expo: "Finally, they arrived. I went up to Bob and if I could take his picture. Bob laughed at my Cockney accent and said, 'Yeah mon, come on in.' Between songs he asked me what it was like to be a black kid in England, and I asked him about Jamaica. I felt he really took to me."

The singer was so impressed by the teen that he invited him to join them and take pictures on the tour.

"The next morning, I said goodbye to my mum like I was going to school, went to his hotel and jumped in the back of the van. Bob just turned around and said: 'Are you ready Dennis? Yeah, ready!' I replied, clicking my camera. And the adventure began."

13 years old. That's the photo there. Such an adventure! Still going on too. I also loved the photos of London's Hackney, Southall, and more in the early and mid 1970s.

New board gaming period with Scythe

 

I spend time reflecting to wrap things up at the end of every year, and then create things for the new year, like a context, motto, themes, and this year some main objectives.

I had a board game design idea a few years ago that I hadn't progressed with so it's on the list for this year (I admit it was last year too, I just didn't do anything about it then).

Anyhow, we had someone missing for our regular roleplaying game night with friends so I suggested meeting at Loufoque, a board game café I like, and trying out a quite big game. I suggested Architects of the West Kingdoms because I haven't played it, but someone else wanted to try Scythe, the game designed and published by Jamey Stegmaier (Stonemaier Games), and featuring beautiful artwork by Jakub Rozalski.

I'd played Scythe, though years ago when I was in Chicago. I also had the chance of having Jamey Stegmaier on my podcast back then, you can check the episode out here. Jamey is incredibly generous and prolific with the amount of interesting content he shares: perspectives about the board gaming industry like about how they're affected by recent tariffs, publishing advice, design focused content, and much more.

It has a few different moving parts about it, though I'd probably describe Scythe as an engine building strategy game, with wargaming elements. It looks like a wargame with it's big alternative 1920s steampunk-ish mechanical engines and hexagon tiles, but it isn't really exactly that. 

It may look intimidating, and clearly designed for a large American size table - we barely had space for drinks, though actually I love the way it's designed such that it is quite easy to grasp what you can do every turn, so tactics, and not so much analysis paralysis (well sort of, more on that in a second), and yet lots of depth and moving parts from game to game to think about strategy.

I totally lost but it was a fun game, good to test it again. I went on to play the digital version I have on Steam over the weekend, which is where the analysis paralysis kicked in for me, in front of my laptop playing 3 computer AIs (medium level difficulty) and getting absolutely beaten every time, trying to understand wider strategies to better understand the intricacies of the game.

I also played some Terraforming Mars, that I'd forgotten I had as a digital version, and then a friend invited me to join Board Game Arena, so I started playing a few more games there too. My user name is Hippowill if you want to add me as a friend and play a game some time.

I started a new notebook with design notes for my board game idea, I'm pretty clear what the theme and design goals are, but I wasn't too sure of mechanics to quickly start prototyping and playtesting. After a few new games tested and a few podcasts, talks, design book passages from my shelves, I had an idea last night for a starting point that I'm happy with. I'm not exactly ready to talk about it just yet, but I will do soon, to document the process.

I had been trying to find specific processes and/or methodologies, starting with the Board Game Design by Joe Slack (it's all right though I think you can find many free ressources online instead of this one), and Jeremy Holcomb's notes in The White Box board game design workshop (it's a useful toolbox of things).

The main thing I keep up with is rapid prototyping. I have a tendency to start things and not finish, or study and daydream rather than do. At the very least I have made more progress than in all of last year.

2025 ski season wrap!

 It's a wrap for the 2025 ski season! Ups and downs ski wise - and yes, it is a pun.

Last year ended a little slow work wise, and this year began like that too, so not tons of budget for a lot of skiing, but as usual, I couldn't help do a little more than was probably reasonable. 

First, a gorgeous warm-up day in the Pyrénées aux Angles to get our ski legs back on with my brother Morgan and a friend, Barbara, at the beginning of February. Bright blue sky, and probably too hot, just enough man-made snow to ski on, but hey that's the Pyrénées these days I suppose.

Barbara had just been on a day of backcountry ski touring with her father the day before, she skies way better than Morgan and I, plus with her mom's old skis, so she has a proper 80s ski form - quite unlike my ungainly feet apart but somehow managing to keep balanced on my skis style.

In March, I thought it would be a fine idea to book two weeks of skiing in a row after the French school holidays, figuring I'll be saving on an additional train ride back to Paris.

We went to La Rosière, above Bourg-Saint-Maurice, on the Italian border. The skiing area that I'd visited in the summer of 2018 connects with La Thuile in Italy.

Katie took lessons and I just went skiing, exploring all the resort had to offer, the snow on the Italian side was gorgeous and it snowed several days while we were there. I loved going shopping for cured meats to make our lunch sandwiches in Italy, and had coffee and gelato in the sun. 

It was quiet in both resorts, little to no queue on the lifts aside from the first in the mornings, nice runs, some sides and in between the pistes to ski some fresh snow, varied terrain and lovely tree runs on the Italian side. I definitely want to go back. 

Of course I skied pretty full on and was tired at the end of the week. As mentioned, I thought it would be a good idea to book a second week. Moreover, the second week was with the UCPA in Tignes (a sports and outdoor activities camp, it's really worth looking into) for a beginners backcountry ski touring week.

Suffice to say it didn't go as planned. According the description on their website, I thought I had the right technical skiing level, and physical fitness level. At the end of the first morning of off-piste, the instructor said we needed a chat, that he was concerned about my borderline good enough technical level, and even more concerned with my physical fitness level, or lack thereof. 

Still, I joined the group for a first small hike just out of the bounds of the skiing area that afternoon, so I at least did my first ever little backcountry ski tour. I hadn't really accounted or thought of the altitude, and that hiking on skis at 3,000 meters high is actually demanding, and underestimated how tiring skiing on variable and steep snow off the piste would be. 

Plus I was exhausted from the previous week of skiing. We had our first day in Tignes free, I'd been hearing about Tignes and Val d'Isère for years, so of course I went out for a full on day from 9am to 4pm all the way to end of Val d'Isère at the Glacier du Pisaillas, and back with no visibility in the clouds. My thighs felt like jelly before going on that hike the following day. 

Maybe I'd have done better if I was more rested, though the instructor seemed to have doubts about it. The rest of the group were really nice, though for the most part happened to be a lot more experienced in off-piste and backcountry skiing, and fitter overall - from being used to hiking in altitude several times a year, to running ultra trail marathons, to completing nordic skiing circuits in a third of the time most people did.

I felt tired, deflated, embarrassed, disappointed and angry with myself, and overall vexed. Now with a little time, it was great to do a first hike like that, and I joined the group on another off-piste session a couple of days later.  

I thought going a third time to the gym per week for the past couple of months and losing a tiny bit of weight was sufficient preparation for the ski season, and it sort of was, but not at all enough for that level of backcountry skiing. I seem to have hit a limit to my skiing enthusiasm. In past courses, I've been told a few times that my level of confidence and enthusiasm without fear made up for some of my technical skill to let me follow others who were better than me. Not this time though. I was physically spent, felt not good enough, and lost morale.

On top of that, I was told at the last minute to join another traditional ski lesson group the following day, and it was a complete opposite. The first day was so challenging I was told it wouldn't work, the next day was so easy and relaxed skiing that all the other people in that new group were grumbling about the instructor.

Given I didn't know which group I was in for the afternoon anymore, and I was upset and tired, I took the afternoon off and went to the swimming pool's wellness centre: sauna, jacuzzis, steam bath, slides, and a beautiful view of the mountains.

The rest of the week there was all right, though mixed. I tried to get over myself with limited success. I skied and enjoyed the weather, reading the Codex Alera, hung out with a really crowd of people, played a cool big board game (Kemet), so definitely some good - with a sort of background shadow of disappointment.

After the fact, as I write this, I'm happy I did it, though I guess it was an expensive lesson in humility. The instructor recommended training and practice in off-piste skiing as a next step, so I might do that, I'd been wanting to before, this just seemed to be a way to do that. That's to my point about their description as a beginners backcountry training week, I seemed to have the required level (and the lessons in the second part of the week being easy showed me I did have the level stated too, but oh well). I also told them it might be worth revising their website's description of the level required, though their customer service reply didn't seem particularly sensitive or empathic with my experience.

I'm not sure what I'll be wanting to do with the next ski season, we'll see next winter. 

Right now, I need to focus on work stuff, new business and securing new clients and projects in priority. I'd finished a client project just before going away, so I kind of came back to a nearly blank slate. Whatever I do ski-wise, it's unlikely to get any cheaper, and I'll have to finance it somehow, so first things first.

To end on a positive note, skiing with a group means I do have some of the best skiing photos of me I've ever had, so that's pretty cool to show you!

The Codex Alera Epic Fantasy series book notes

I just finished reading the 6 books of the Codex Alera fantasy fiction series by Jim Butcher, the last three were a bit of a blur as I read them back to back, I wrote brief notes about them on Goodreads, and here I thought I'd write an overall review of the series, avoiding spoilers.

First I'm biased, I read and love all 17 novels in The Dresden Files series by the same author. And I suppose I'm biased as a regular reader of fantasy and science-fiction in general.

Jim Butcher described the idea at the origin of the Codex Alera as the Roman Empire with Pokemon mashed up as two concepts. The first as a bit of a different vibe from the more frequent medieval setting, here is a more antique Roman style setting. The second because the people in this vast empire have abilities to adopt and control elemental style creatures and powers that go along with them. In case it concerns you (it did for me when I first heard that ideas), the Pokemon idea is not carried out much further. Catching them all is not particularly at the heard of the plot, and they're called furies, hence the book titles.

It starts out as all traditional epic fantasy series: with a nobody boy hitting puberty somewhere lost in the middle of nowhere countryside, and of course with enough winks to the knowledgeable fantasy reader that one realises the protagonist is likely hidden royalty or some such.

There are enough nods to other fantasy works to what you're dealing with and having it set in some genre tropes and traditions, enough new elements of setting to make it interesting, and enough small and larger twists to raise eyebrows in usually good surprises. 

An obvious one from the start is that in a world where everyone has some kind of special magical powers with elements like water or fire, the young hero doesn't and has to rely on wits alone to get himself out of trouble.

The big bad guys seem coming straight out of science-fiction tropes rather than fantasy ones, which is pretty cool. Think of the Zerg in StarCraft or the Arachnid bugs in the Starship Troopers movie, if ever those ring bells. 

Where I feel Jim Butcher particularly shines, to some extent as in The Dresden Files, is the wild action-packed scenes and outrageous scale of events.

He's also funny, and I highlighted a number of turns of phrases I've enjoyed throughout the series.

Even in the first book there are excellent page-turning unexpected turns of events and crazy-paced action. Fun characters, enough hints of secrets, backstory elements and foreshadowing to want to read the rest of the series.

I also enjoyed that the first book, and I'd say up to the third, have satisfying arcs, beginnings, middles, and ends, setups for the sequels without too much of cliffhangers.

I left a pause and read another book or two between those, compared to the fourth book. I happened to be on holidays so that may have played into it, but it felt like events massively accelerate from the fourth book onwards, and I read the rest of the series back to back. So it's a bit of a blur.

In Goodreads, I only wrote short comments, my overall impression in a few words for each book in the series goes this way:

1. Furies of Calderon: Setup and big events on a local scale
2. Academ's Fury: Character growth and development.
3. Cursor's Fury: Problems and successes against massive odds. Probably my favourite book in the series.
4. Captain's Fury: Events accelerate.
5. Princeps' Fury: The scale, scope and stakes of events dramatically expands.
6. First Lord's Fury: A breathtaking race to the end line and resolution.

Suffice to say I recommend them, and also a good choice even if you're not in love with fantasy style novels, there's enough action and fun page turning for most if not all readers I think.

Tinkering to best understand tech, then perhaps criticize it

The Paris chapter of Creative Mornings had been dormant since the pandemic (as far as I know), so I was happily surprised when I found out it was recently taken over by a new group of people, I'm joining in to support them.

CreativeMornings exceptionally took place in the evening yesterday, the speaker was Benjamin Gaulon, an artist, researcher, and I'd say tinkerer extraordinaire.

I raised my hand to look for sponsors for event series (j'écrirais sans doute un post en français à ce propos bientôt, mais n'hésitez pas si jamais vous voulez discuter de devenir sponsor pour Creative Mornings Paris).

I'm sure strategists and other Venn diagram geeks will appreciate Ben's "unifying theory" diagram that came towards the end of his talk, as he pondered the relationships between his art projects and teaching workshops.\

Ben began by telling us he grew up in a small village in France that happened to be right next to a open air dump, and that was his favorite place to play and explore, digging up treasure out of the dirt.

A description copied from his website, Recyclism: "His research focuses on the limits and failures of information and communication technologies; planned obsolescence, consumerism and disposable society; ownership and privacy; through the exploration of détournement, hacking and recycling."

Recyclism

My main takeaway from his talk is that to criticize, you best first understand, and that happens as much through tinkering as it does through theorizing (or perhaps more).

Ben pulls all sorts things apart from other people's electronic waste and teaches students how to work with, hack, experiment, as well as critically think about electronics, digital devices, our use of them, and a lot more.

He started NØ and the NØ School in Nevers (Burgundy), a collective and summer school to understand and critically discuss electronics and communication technologies.

NØ Collective

NØ School Nevers

I enjoyed hearing about all the projects I worked on, from The Internet of Dead Things to Tech Mining and Retail Poisoning, his websites are definitely worth checking out.

Because I remember playing with them as a kid, special mention to his rehabilitating a collection of Minitels to set them up as a simili Apple/Minitels store for people to experiment with.  

In case you don't know, the Minitel was the French government's first digital communication network, and there were terminal screens in many homes, with proto websites people could visit, and use to find information, chat with other people by text, play games, etc.

The next Creative Mornings Paris talk is on Friday 19th July, and the monthly theme is 'trust' - sign up here.

Thanks to Frédéric Bussière, Catherine Erneux, and the others for putting this up!

Perceiving different shades and textures of colours

 

"Ancient cultures have more developed and nuanced sensitivities to colour than contemporary societies. In all areas, there is not just one colour black, but several."

That's roughly translated from French in this book I'm reading from historian Michel Pastoureau, Noir - histoire d'une couleur (Black: history of a colour, there is an official English translation).

This is his second book in a series about the history of colours, focused mostly on European history and culture (the author's speciality and field of scholarly research).

It's a fascinating read, first in the introduction to appreciate that the meaning we tend to associate with different colours nowadays is cultural, and different from what it had been in the past. 

Until recently, and for a long while, black and white were not considered to be colours. In antiquity and the middle ages, they were though.

I'm paraphrasing a few bits I thought worth sharing here, namely that there used to be several words associated with the colours black and white. 

Colour was also a matter of expressing light (bright/dark, matte/glossy), matter, texture, surface (smooth/rough), and saturation. In Latin was done with different words, prefixes, and suffixes.

Black is about fighting off darkness and a quest for light.

In Latin, as well as ancient German and English, there were two distinct sets of words for the colours black, one for matte black and another for bright or glossy black.

Some ancient cultures even set more emphasis on other areas of perception than chromatic tone, so brightness, density, or texture was more important than tone. 

I find it difficult to wrap my head around, but apparently because of this, in ancient Greek and Latin for example, there is a word that designates and means both blue, and black ('kuanos in Greek, 'caeruleus' in Latin). 

No wonder some ancient texts are tough to translate, and placing these words and meaning back in their cultural context is extremely challenging.

It's mind-boggling to consider that if I had someone from ancient Greece or Rome looking at the editor with a black screen background I'm typing on now, would have multiple words to choose from to name and describe this colour, when I just have one in mind.

Next time you look at a brand logo, a sign, or an ad, keep in mind that whatever interpretation you have of the colours involved, not only did past cultures have different ones, they also had more words to express what they saw.

Pretty wild.

Black: The History of a Colour, by Michel Pastoureau 

Debt: The First 5,000 Years, by David Graeber [book review]

I don’t rave about non-fiction books as ‘absolutely riveting’ to my friends and family all that often, though I’ll admit it’s kind of more likely if it was written by David Graeber. I highlighted whole passages, enough to question the point of a highlight altogether, and added a bunch of other referenced books to my reading list. In fact, Goodreads tells me I highlighted 272 passages of a 534 page-long book, about one every other page. Clearly I loved it.

“Surely one has to pay one’s debts.”

David Graeber begins the book by with a conversation he had with someone, who apparently said those words in such a way that he started questioning them. This led him to taking a wide view: 5,000 years of history around the world, about debt as a moral and economic notion; the origins of markets and money (and that coins have little to do with barter, which is fascinating in and of itself).

The history is “a way to ask fundamental questions about what human beings and human society are or could be like—what we actually do owe each other, what it even means to ask that question.”

“the central question of this book [is]: What, precisely, does it mean to say that our sense of morality and justice is reduced to the language of a business deal? What does it mean when we reduce moral obligations to debts?”

Financial issues and debt were a thing in my family for a whole period of time growing up. I’m not going into much detail, but I experienced bailiffs and debt recovery agents knocking at the door, furniture being removed, and being evicted from home, among other things. It’s not fun. I used to just blame my parents, but going back 5,000 years and considering debt from different angles and cultures has been eye-opening, both soothing and shaking.

If you’ve experienced debt (I’m pretty sure we all have) and enjoy considering big questions, there’s a fair chance you’ll enjoy it. Plus it’s masterfully written: legible, blending engaging stories with a large amount of bibliographical references, and big questions, as already mentioned. I strongly recommend it. I’m looking forward to reading his posthumous ‘Dawn of Everything’ written with David Wengrow soon.