David Brooks (1) (1961–)

"Social Animal" is a deep and thought-provoking book. That said, it is not a difficult book to read, but the ideas presented are so interesting that it took me longer to read this book than any I've read in the past two years. It was so interesting, I had to read (or listen because I had both versions) to a segment, and then go away and let that sink in.

Brooks gives us two individuals, Harold and Erica, whom he follows from pre-conception to death, showing us how their genetics, their show more environments, and their life choices influence how they think, relate to others, and ultimately succeed or fail in various phases of their lives. It is fascinating reading, so much so that although I borrowed this from the library, I have it on my "to buy" list, waiting until the paperback comes out so I can mark it up with all kinds of comments, like a college text book.

There are so many concepts presented that it might have been a confusing mishmash, but Brooks' singular ability to weave them together in a coherent, flowing narrative is the true strength of the book. That same bombardment of new (to me) ideas makes it difficult for us non-sociologists to write a cogent review.
We follow Harold and Erica as we learn how much babies know at birth, as Brooks explains humans' inheriting a flow of information, which he characterizes into patterns:

=from deep in our evolutionary past = genetics
=from thousands of years ago = religion
=from hundreds of years ago =  culture
=from decades ago = family
and from years months, days, hours ago = education and advice

By presenting us with two people from different cultural backgrounds, (Harold is from a two parent WASP family, Erica is the product of a single oriental mother and Hispanic father) he is able to weave in theories of cultural differences in physical ailments, brain patterns, geographic languages (e.g., "raise your right hand" vs. "raise your hand east") and myriad other tidbits of learning, bombarding us with notions that make infinite sense, and produce "AHA" moments many of us never spent any time dwelling upon.


Here's just one example of his nuggets of provocation:

"The people in the executive suite believed that the school existed to fulfill some socially productive process of information transmission, usually involving science projects on poster boards, but in reality of course, high school is a machine for social sorting. The purpose of high school is to give young people a sense of where they fit into the social structure."

The story of Harold and Erica as they meet, fall in love, marry, climb the corporate ladder, branch out on separate career paths, and ultimately retire together, is enchanting, challenging, interesting, and one that is sure to make the reader stop and think. "Social Animal" is a work that bears reading and re-reading. It may not be a life-changer, but it is certainly going to be a life-enhancer for many. show less

I could not make up my mind about this book while I read it - was it tiresome or did it have some hidden depth? A third of the way through, while amused on occasions, I decided that it was not something I would want to keep in my library.

It is a classic example of Gladwellism, a cultural enterprise whereby a jobbing journalist or 'public intellectual', well embedded in his liberal middle class market (actually a very conservative community), decides to make a turn by trying to explain show more science or social science to his fellows.

In general, these books are not very inspiring, a symptom of our time. You get gobbets of 'explanation' designed simultaneously to shock the bourgeoisie out of its complacency but only in such a way that complacency about its audience's right to rule is reaffirmed.

There are no lies in these books. The science is real enough. It is just that it is rarely contextualised fully or hedged about with all the doubts that good scientists themselves would have about such matters. Instead the readership must be given a 'narrative', told a 'story', be 'inspired'.

Such books are journalism at heart and journalism is designed to 'sell'. If you want the full truth of the matter, I am afraid you are just going to have do the hard work and read the original material after a full degree or more. What you get in these cases is generally a myth for our age.

This book is no exception. It leaps from some very entertaining and adroit social satire of the class it is flattering to a rather simplistic interpretation of psychological research and thence to boosting a communitarian ideology of inherent middle class superiority and then back again.

It was really no surprise at the end to find that our author is a New York Times journalist who relied on someone now at the American Enterprise Institute to help with research and fact-checking. It reeks of the complacency of a class that hates the idea of the lower classes having autonomy.

The ideology of the book is simple - we do not know our own minds, success is what the East Coast bourgeoisie thinks is success and the lower orders are failing because they are not listening to or emulating their betters, all theses proven by 'science'. Ho, hum!

If you want any of the cherry pie, you have to earn it by behaving as the educated urban middle class behave which just happens to mean (nowadays) adopting a conservative communitarian view of human nature, masked by liberal values, all, of course, also justified by 'science'. Ho, hum!

According to 'science', it seems none of us have much will or little choice over our lives unless we play by some rules pre-set by this class. A bit of paternalism to help the lower orders perhaps while those higher on the ladder of life must take more 'responsibility' so that stability can be assured.

No questioning of the educational mandarinate and its reliance on texts detached from reality, no need for any significant redistribution of resources, no essential respect for the instinctual calculations of those surviving at the bottom of society.

Deeper down we may see this as another text amongst many drawn from the naked panic of the scribbling bourgeoisie at their own future redundancy in what they clearly fear to be a general social collapse that can only be rectified with a commitment to reason's command of instinct.

We are, it would seem filled with cognitive flaws and 'unconscious bias', subjects who need to be taught and guided by wiser political Platonists who can earn their way to Davos and who are honoured as policy wonks and managers.

And to be fair to Brooks, his essential reading of reality is correct although the fashionable belief of the depressed bourgeoisie (yawn, Ernst Mach and the pre-first world war Viennese got there first) that the Self is slippery is only something the repressed middle classes truly believe.

The rest if us are quite secure in our selves, thank you very much, because we have instinct and reason nicely calibrated by not allowing either to rule and knowing that only material limitation stops us from being expressions of an admittedly temporary divine.

Yet sometimes Brooks made me laugh because a bitter cynicism about his own class would sometimes break through just as his subjects (two perfect examples of that aspirational breed) give us a tale of sweet success and personal niceness, a wet dream of bourgeois perfection.

Of course, I loved his two ordinary bourgeois, Erica and Harold, as much as he did, this literary textual God deciding their fates in print. But, being more Luciferian, I dearly wanted to pass on to them the apple of knowledge which, whatever it is, is not and never can be just 'science'.

Brooks writes well and smoothly. It is definitely not a 'bad book' but, although I finished it to the end, I wanted more than this. I wanted to know whether the 'science' actually mattered at all when it came to living our lives. I wanted to know if the science stood up as politics. I doubted it.

I also wanted to know whether the truth might be that much of what is presented as breathless revelation in books such as these may not come as a surprise only to people who have lived their lives by the text and the network, not to those others who do not.

This felt like the US East Coast once again looking down on the rest of humanity and demanding that it listen to their 'science', not so much to be a 'success' themselves but to respect the 'successful'. Live to serve your class, this book implicitly says, and your class will serve you.

Written in 2011, half a decade later the recalcitrant masses broke through and taught the 'New York Times' a lesson that it is still coming to terms with. Perhaps it has now given up on 'science' in favour of the brute political thuggery of 'impeachment'. Maybe. show less

David Brooks walks us through the minds, lives and inner struggles of a collection of outstanding and inspiring leaders and thinkers in history. He comments on how narcism pervades our present generation and how the culture of “Big Me” is inherently perpetuated by our society’s value and focus on the mastery of an individual's “resume virtues” (ie: exam scores, community service hours, professional achievements, etc.). When emphasized, these are the characteristics that often show more provides the ticket to getting into a prestigious school, landing a competitive job and progressing towards success. He compares this to the “eulogy virtues”- the capacity of kindness, self-discipline, self-restraint, self-sacrifice, bravery, honesty, generosity, gratitude, love and humility (the inner qualities that create character). Although society rewards the external achievements of “resume virtues”, the “eulogy virtues” build upon the necessary “moral vocabulary” that enriches life with deeper meaning and purpose; there is no denying its importance. He argues that this shift of balance in societal values has made it increasingly difficult to practice proficiency of the latter, as we now have to “spend more time, energy and attention on the external…climb towards success and we have less time, energy and attention to devote to the internal world."

Brooks portrays these figures not as exemplars of morality, but rather as deeply flawed individuals who each took unique paths to the “road to character.” He demonstrates that they all shared an awareness of their own limitations and vulnerabilities, and commonly engaged in the harsh internal struggle to rise above their weaknesses. He prefaces the book with the statement, “I’m hoping you and I will both emerge from the next nine chapters slightly different and slightly better.” Although certain chapters had lengths of dullness that took some effort to trudge through, I’d recommend reading at least the first and final chapters of the book. It’s an overall very inspiring read, and it required me to take thoughtful pauses of reflection throughout. It has challenged me to reevaluate my own motivations, vulnerabilities and weaknesses from a different vantage point. Brooks challenges us to understand the virtues that go into the development of character, and from that I think we can all emerge slightly better. show less

Summary: An exploration of how we might see people deeply and help them know that they are seen.

Most of us would want to be known as people who help people feel seen and to be deeply seen ourselves. But in our most honest moments, we have to admit we are not very good at this. We don’t listen well. We are far more capable of trying to impress others with our stories, our wit, our accomplishments. One of the most winsome aspects of this book is David Brooks candid admission that this show more characterizes his relationships far too often, even during his journey to explore this subject.

With his trademark clarity mixing research and personal narrative, Brooks describes the nature of good relationships, where people are seen by each other. He organizes this inquiry into three parts. The first of these is “I See You.” He speaks of how important and how lacking this is. He writes about the ways we often size up and diminish others. By contrast, he describes the qualities of an Illuminator, a model he will hold up and develop throughout the book: tender, receptive, actively curious, affectionate, generous, and holistic, seeing the whole person. Such people also are skilled in the practice of accompaniment, a relaxed awareness of the other as we share life with them. He discusses the marks of good conversations, where we loop back, actively listening, and avoid being the “topper.” He distinguishes between unhelpful questions where we stay superficial and the questions that take us deeper, that invite people to share something more of themselves.

The second part of the book goes deeper in seeing others in their struggles. One of the most powerful chapters in this section concerns how you serve someone in despair, and Brooks narrates his efforts to do this with a friend who eventually ended his life. He writes about what it means to empathize, describing it as mirroring, mentalizing, and caring. He speaks of how Illuminators are both aware of how they’ve been shaped by suffering and allow others who are suffering to process this question.

The final part of the book explores what it means to see people in their strengths. He summarizes personality with “the Big Five” ((he’s not much of a Myers-Briggs fan): extroversion, conscientiousness, neuroticism, agreeableness, and openness. He has a chapter on life tasks, reminding us that people are in a lifelong process of growth and that knowing someone involves discerning where in that process they are. He explores how we listen to and understand life stories and watch for how ancestors show up. He concludes with asking about the nature of wisdom and how it is acquired over a life, and how that changes our relationships.

In a time where we are so divided, where depression and anxiety are skyrocketing and our Surgeon General has named loneliness as a public health crisis, David Brooks has written a book that represents both a way to address many of these concerns and that appeals to “the better angels of our nature.” He writes as a fellow-learner on the journey, not as an authority. He speaks to one of the basics of life that often is overshadowed by the glitzy and the glamourous. He reminds us of the qualities of a good friend. He encourages me to want to be one. show less