Choosing books is always challenging, and this year I got lucky. I ended up reading several (definitely more than three!) books that I thoroughly enjoyed. As such, choosing a mere three to highlight is a challenging task. This is a rare for me; I’m prone to abandoning books I don’t like and while I engaged in more than my fair share of book abandonment last year, I can recall only a single instance of it in 2024. Comparatively, I struggled to figure out what I really wanted to share as favorite reads in 2023.

Thematically, this year I read across science fiction, a few business books, and my usual fare of science and technology studies, but I also declare this year my personal “year of Stoicism.” People who know me may find it surprising that it took me this long to start reading Stoic philosophy—I’m a long-time Zen Buddhist (since my cancer diagnosis over 20 years ago), and I’d argue (if you squint) Stoicism is something of a Western cousin to Zen. Did I end the year thinking of myself as a “capital-S” Stoic? No, I but I feel I have a much better grasp of the philosophy, its history and major players, as well as the bits of wisdom I can take from it and apply in my own life.

Meditations by Marcus Aurelius

I stumbled into Stoicism this year by way of William Irvine’s excellent A Guide to the Good Life, and if I had to recommend just one book to read on Stoic philosophy for modern life, this would be that book. It’s a nice blend of introduction to Stoicism, basic history of the philosophy, and practical advice on how to implement Stoic practices in everyday living. That said, Meditations—and Robin Waterfield’s translation of Meditations in particular—has been the book I’ve found myself returning to again and again throughout the year.

Meditations isn’t the kind of book you sit and read cover to cover (though you can, and I did the very first time I read it). It is, after all, Marcus Aurelius’ personal diary, so it wasn’t really intended to be read by anyone other than the emperor himself. That said, it’s a wonderful, almost inexhaustible wellspring of wisdom that you can simply dip into and out of any time you need it. I found myself often revisiting favorite passages, especially during times of stress or anxiety when I needed a good reminder to pull myself back from the minutia of some personal problem to reflect on the bigger picture. Sometimes these reminders are so brutally direct that the words feel like a direct slap in the face:

Your death is imminent, and you haven’t yet achieved simplicity, imperturbability, the conviction that nothing external can make you a worse person, or the ability to deal serenely with everyone, nor do you dedicate your intelligence solely to right action.

Oof.

I suggest picking up Waterfield’s translation, if only for the copious detailed footnotes, which add an incredible amount of insight and historical background to nearly every passage. My copy is already extensively dogeared and marked up—the way it should be.

Wind, Sand and Stars by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

I admit that I spend much of my life in front of a computer, which unfortunately is not conducive to cultivating a lifestyle full of thrilling adventures in the wild. Saint-Exupéry lived very differently during a very different time, and his pilot’s memoir, “Wind, Sand and Stars” captures just some of the grandeur and beauty of his life as an aviator in the early days of aviation, flying dangerous postal routes across Africa and South America.

This book won a National Book Award and the Grand Prix of the Academie Francaise, but I sheepishly admit I hadn’t really known of Saint-Exupéry’s writing beyond The Little Prince. I stumbled upon “Wind, Sand and Stars” via 100 Rabbits, all part of falling down a rabbit-hole (pun intended) reading about the philosophy and concepts of permacomputing earlier this year.

What I love most about “Wind, Sand and Stars” is how it weaves beautiful prose and philosophical insights into incredible personal stories about defying death at the hands of the elements and unreliable machinery. In fact, it includes the harrowing tale of Saint-Exupéry’s nighttime plane crash in the middle of the Sahara that later inspired his writing of The Little Prince. It’s also just a very quotable book. Consider, for instance, this gem in his reflections on the culmination of perfection in aeronautical design:

Perfection is achieved, not when there is nothing more to add, but when there is nothing left to take away.

Or this, on love:

Love does not consist of gazing at each other, but in looking outward together in the same direction.

Is it perfect? No. This book was written in 1939, so you have to consider the context behind some of Saint-Exupéry’s use of racial stereotypes that were common among colonial Europeans during that era. But, if you can look past that and you want something that will help inspire a bit of wonder and appreciation for the beauty of life, it’s a hard book to beat.

Good Strategy, Bad Strategy by Richard Rumelt

I don’t read many business books because I usually don’t care for them. “Good Strategy, Bad Strategy,” however, is unlike the usual fare of this genre. I stumbled on this book through the recommendation of Will Larson when reading his blog posts earlier this year about writing an engineering strategy. (I also highly recommend these blog posts for anyone in an engineering leadership position.)

What I appreciate most about Rumelt, both in “Good Strategy, Bad Strategy,” as well as his later book The Crux (I read both this year), is his no bullshit pragmatist approach to setting clear, actionable business strategy. I’ve participated in more than my fair share of mission-vision-values type “strategy” sessions, and I admit to having initiated and facilitated many of these myself throughout my career. But a well-articulated vision or mission—while valuable for culture building and alignment—does not a strategy make. Neither do a bunch of OKRs or other written-down aspirations or business goals. This, I feel, is what many business leaders get wrong: conflating missions or visions or OKRs with actionable strategy.

According to Rumelt, a strategy must be not only be actionable, but it must also be directed at a very clear and specific business problem. Rather than give away or digress into the specifics of strategy that Rumelt prescribes, I recommend reading the book, or at least reading Larson’s blog posts. This book was incredibly useful, and I was immediately able to put its advice into practice this year as part of defining an engineering strategy for my own organization.

Honorable Mentions

Though this is supposed to be a “top 3” list, there are two additional books I feel I’d be remiss to call your attention:

  • How Big Things Get Done: A fascinating and fun read on how big projects often fail, and what we can do to prevent this from happening. Covers the gamut from architectural projects, public transit, IT projects and home remodels gone that have gone very off-the-rails. This book’s simple advice: “Think slow, act fast.” If you happen to work on or lead the development of large projects (and for most of my readers this means software projects), I highly recommend this book.
  • Letters to a Young Poet: I’ve never read Rilke until this year. (Computer science does a poor job of exposing one to the humanities.) I see now why this book is a beloved favorite for many. An absolutely beautiful collection of short letters on cultivating and nurturing creativity from one of the world’s most renowned poets.