This is a big, strange, frequently fascinating, but strangely disjointed book. Impressionistic history, not narrative. It’s also far longer than the page count suggests – a huge, heavy book that needs two hands to hold even in paperback.
Effectively a collection of essays that combine to make up one big essay, it jumps around in places and time as it explores Western civilisation’s relationship with the landscapes in which that civilisation has developed.
Yet this is a bit of a misrepresentation, as really the focus is primarily on the 18th and 19th centuries, as the conscious awareness of landscape as a thing started to emerge. And primarily via England, France, the United States, and Germany / the Holy Roman Empire. Other countries do get a look in. but these four dominate.
It’s at times more lyrical memoir or art criticism than cultural history, with the schema and structure and choices of what to cover making sense only to its author – making me wonder how on earth Schama managed to get this commissioned, given it came pretty early in his career, five years before he became a household name via his TV work. It feels more like the kind of self-indulgent passion project with which someone famous is rewarded to get them to produce something a bit more commercial.
But there’s still a lot here to like. For me, it’s best when it delves into myth and legend – though it doesn’t do this as much as I think is warranted, or as much as I’d have liked, given how good Schama is on myth when he does write about it:
“how much myth is good for us? And how can we measure the dosage? Should we avoid the stuff altogether for fear of contamination or dismiss it out of hand as sinister and irrational esoterica that belong only in the most unsavory margins of ‘real’ (to wit, our own) history?
“…The real problem… is whether it is possible to take myth seriously on its own terms, and to respect its coherence and complexity, without becoming morally blinded by it’s poetic power. This is only a variation, after all, of the habitual and insoluble dilemma of the anthropologist (or for that matter the historian, though not many of us like to own up to it): of how to reproduce ‘the other,” separated from us by space, time, or cultural customs, without either losing ourselves altogether in total immersion or else rendering the subject ‘safe’ by the usual eviscerations of Western empirical analysis.
“Of one thing at least I am certain: that not to take myth seriously in the life of an ostensibly ‘disenchanted’ culture like our own is actually to impoverish our understanding of our shared world.” (p.134)
And (much) later, concluding the thought with the closest the book has to an explanation of Schama’s aim in writing it:
“it seems to me that neither the frontiers between the wild and the cultivated, nor those that lie between the past and the present, are so easily fixed. Whether we scrambled the slopes or ramble the woods, our Western sensibilities carry a bulging backpack of myth and recollection… The sum of our pasts, generation laid over generation, like the slow mold of the seasons, forms the compost of our future. We live off it .” (p.574)
Appropriately enough this book is a rambling affair, following paths that make little sense as you wander them. But gradually the intent of the person who’s staked out those paths starts to make some kind of sense – as with an Impressionist painting, the subject of which can only be seen when you take a few steps back.
Here, the details are so dense, so varied, you’re better off with your nose close to the canvas – the parts work better on their own rather than summed into a whole.
An excellent companion to Rée’s superb Witcraft, his history of how philosophical ideas made their way into English (often with a considerable delay). The chapters here on Kierkegaard and Sartre neatly fill some gaps in that earlier book’s narrative, as it (mistakenly and frustratingly, in my view) ended the story largely with Wittgenstein. (Yes, Kierkegaard was earlier, but didn’t get translated into English until the early-mid 20th century.)
The introductory interview was also a nice touch, with Rée’s dislike of histories of philosophy – and especially of Bertrand Russell’s, and of Russell more broadly – an entertaining educated rant that helped shift my perspective on what has become one of my favourite genres of book over the last few years. I knew it’s not just me who sometimes, when reading the original works rather than someone else’s summary of them, struggles to understand and needs to re-read paragraphs repeatedly – but it was very reassuring to hear that the same is true for Rée.
Philosophy is hard, basically. Intellectual biographies and histories of philosophy may make it more accessible – but the point is philosophy is all about the act of thinking, not just understanding ideas.
This feels like a particularly useful insight in the age of GenAI, when it’s easier than ever to find a summary of an idea, and to have someone (albeit a bot) explain a complex concept in simple terms. This may be a shortcut to understanding, but sometimes this can mean your understanding is only superficial – by reaching your knowledge via an intermediary, rather than working at it yourself, you’re likely to be missing nuances and details, as well as to be picking up received wisdom and interpretative assumptions from other people, rather than determining your own understanding.
Taking shortcuts via other people’s interpretations isn’t always a bad thing, by any means – but it’s worth being aware of what you may be missing by doing so. I’m probably never going to read Heidegger’s Being and Time or Sartre’s Being and Nothing in English, let alone in the original German and French. I’ve always known I’m going to be missing something as a result – the summaries of these books that I *have* read have convinced me there are aspects of both I’d find fascinating. But Rée’s emphasis on taking the time to digest philosophical works, to ruminate on them, to make the effort to truly understand them has given me pause.
Much to think about here, in other words – not bad for what is at its core a collection of book reviews.
This brought back fond memories of the Bullshit Bingo tracker we used to keep to try and steer clients (and ourselves) away from jargon when working on B2B projects back in my Group SJR days…
Simple, jargon-free language is almost always the best option if you want your message to be understood – but it can be hard to get it past approvers, because the more you simplify the language, the clearer the strategic recommendations become.
For some, this clarity feels like a risk – because the best strategies tend to be very simple, once you strip them of all the linguistic fluff. This is where and why business bullshit creeps in – to make the clear seem complicated, so the person presenting seems like they’re better value for money.
Of course, what this all misses is that devising the strategy *is* the easy bit (relatively). The hard part is getting others on board to start rolling it out, and to ensure the organisation as a whole doesn’t just adopt it as a mantra, but understands and acts on it.
This is why strategic development needs to take its time – the conversations and debates that inform a strategy are the first step towards helping the broader organisation accept it.
Put lots of jargon in your explanations, you’re creating barriers to understanding and adoption.
But equally. there’s always a risk that someone will call you on it – and reveal that underneath all the convoluted wording, you’re really not saying much of substance. That’s surely a far bigger reputational risk than showing you have the insight to cut through to the heart of the matter with a clear, simple strategic recommendation.
As this is a book of fairly straightforward, slightly gushing interviews with various people from the world of marketing, this would today have worked much better as a podcast. In this format it feels pretty repetitive as well as being dated (first published in 2011, with some of the focus on social media as if it’s new and Apple as if it’s a challenger brand feeling really rather quaint.
There probably were some actively thought-provoking points made somewhere in here, but everyone blurred into one in the end. so I have no idea who said what, and nothing really stood out – except the guy who was very vocal about his dislike of Daniel Kahneman and the idea of Behavioural Economics.
Of course, these “insights” may have seemed more radical 15 years ago. And for newcomers to marketing they still might.
But it’s notable how much of what’s said here sounds fine in theory but feels very hard to turn into tangible takeaways that people trying to build brands themselves could actually use. It mostly all ends up sounding like fluff and cod psychology. You can see how marketing and branding ended up getting a bit of a bad name if this is the best they had to offer.
Then again, maybe it’s because pretty much everyone featured here is American? As Mark Ritson – today’s leading marketing advocate – keeps saying, American marketing and advertising hasn’t been particularly sophisticated for decades.
In short, useful to read if in the profession, but there’s very little surprising, practical or inspiring here. It’s mostly pretty obvious platitudes.
“While 82% of advertising executives believe Gen Z and millennial consumers feel positively about AI-generated ads, only 45% of these consumers actually feel that way”
But this is hardly a surprise. A couple of years back I referred to GenAI being at every stage of the Gartner hype cycle simultaneously, and that remains true today – it’s just that more people have passed over the peak of inflated expectations.
Meanwhile, the AI companies need to keep on trying to inflate those expectations further to keep the investment money coming in to allow them to build the infrastructure they need to keep delivering.
But we’re at a stage now where high level promises like those you get in an advert or keynote are hitting the law of diminishing returns. These companies are selling to an increasingly sceptical crowd – as a global society, we’re further down the funnel and are looking for more proof points before we buy in.
(This is part of why I’m convinced Elon Musk knew exactly what he was doing with his Grok porn bot – the uproar was great free publicity for Grok’s ability to create photorealistic images and video… PR can be cynical…)
Given this, is an old school Super bowl campaign really going to make any difference? or is this now just another old school brand awareness play, given Google seems to be on the verge of demolishing OpenAI’s previous lead?
Either way, we’re definitely entering a new phase in the AI play – and the emphasis is increasingly going to need to be on proof of impact, not just proof of concept. The narrative needs to shift.
Interesting, thought-provoking and convincing about what needs to be done, while being realistic about how likely it is such vast changes to how the world works will come about. Yet also packed with examples of ways in which such changes are already taking place, giving some room for optimism.
A good polemic, in other words – and made even better by continually citing sources and experts from non-traditional backgrounds – neither ostentatiously nor explicitly, it made me realise how few economics and politics books regularly cite women or people from non-Western countries. Which may well be part of the reason why our economics and politics are so broken.
The only real criticism: The book itself is well enough written in terms of individual sentences and paragraphs, but lacks enough variety of tone and pacing to really keep the attention, and the author has a tendency to both repeat herself and extend metaphors well beyond the point where they have impact.
If you’re happy with platitudinous banality for your “thought leadership”, GenAI is great!
The trouble is, this isn’t just a GenAI issue.
Many (most?) brands have been spewing out generic nonsense with their content marketing for as long as content marketing has been a thing.
Because what GenAI content is very good at exposing is something that those of us who’ve been working in content marketing for a long time have known since forever: Coming up with genuinely original, compelling insights is *incredibly* hard.
Especially when the raw material most B2B marketers have to work with is the half-remembered received wisdom a distracted senior stakeholder has just tried to recall from their MBA days in response to a question about their business strategy that they’ve probably never even considered before.
And even more especially when these days many of those senior stakeholders are asking their PA to ask ChatGPT to come up with an answer for the question via email rather than speak with anyone.
If you want real insight that’s going to impress real experts, you need to put the work in, and give it some real thought. GenAI can help with this – I have endless conversations with various bots to refine my thinking across dozens of projects. But even that takes time. Often a hell of a lot of time.
Because even in the age of GenAI, it turns out the project management Time / Cost / Quality triangle still applies.
The question of what AI does to publishing has much more to do with why people are reading than how you wrote. Do they care who you are? About your voice or your story? Or are they looking for a database output? Benedict Evans, on LinkedIn
Context is (usually) more important to the success of content than the content itself. And that context depends on the reader/viewer/listener.
It’s the classic journalistic questioning model, but about the audience, not the story:
Who are they?
What are they looking for?
Why are they looking for it?
Where are they looking for it?
When do they need it by?
How else could they get the same results?
Which options will best meet their needs?
Every one of these questions impacts that individual’s perceptions of what type of content will be most valuable to them, and therefore their choice of preferred format / platform for that specific moment in time. Sometimes they’ll want a snappy overview, other times a deep dive, yet other times to hear direct from or talk with an expert.
GenAI enables format flexibility, and chatbot interfaces encourage audience interaction through follow-up Q&As that can help make answers increasingly specific and relevant. This means it will have some pretty wide applications – but it still won’t be appropriate to every context / audience need state.
The real question is which audience needs can publishers – and human content creators – meet better than GenAI?
It’s easy to criticise “AI slop” – but the internet has been awash with utterly bland, characterless human-created slop for years. If GenAI forces those of us in the media to try a bit harder, then it’s all for the good.
This, for me, has always been the real value of trying to produce “Thought Leadership” in a business context: The process of thinking and constructing a coherent explanation of that thinking can have far more lasting impact on an organisation than the one-off piece of content that appears to be the end result.
Every stakeholder involved in the creation of the thought leadership content should, during its course, have at least a few moments where they really stop and question what they think and believe, why, and how they can better articulate it. This can then positively impact how they operate day to day, how they interact with clients and customers, and how they articulate the benefits of their products and services.
It’s not about the piece of content – it’s about the *thinking*.
*That* is the value of putting an emphasis on “Storytelling” – because the narrative form insists on forcing us into shaping our thoughts in ways others can follow. Ideally in a relatively entertaining, relatively memorable way.
The risk, though, is that we start buying into the myths of our own stories – and forget that they are just one way of looking at the world, created to simplify.
This is why, as we try to produce a piece of content, we need to do a Rashomon on our own thinking.
There’s never only one story, one narrative, one way of looking at the world. Look at things from only one perspective, and you risk ending up like the blind men and the elephant. If you’re serious about producing real thought leadership, you should challenge yourself to look for alternative approaches every time.
This is why Critical Thinking is probably the most important skill when writing and editing: Question your assumptions and preconceptions, consider all the objections and alternative interpretations, and – as long as you can avoid the twin traps of analysis paralysis and editing by committee – the end result *will* be stronger.
Stylistic flair can disguise sloppy thinking – but only so much. And how much better is it to have both style *and* substance?
To help shape my thinking, I write essays and shorter notes examining the ideas and narratives that shape media, marketing, technology and culture.
A core focus: The way context and assumptions can radically change how ideas are interpreted. Much of modern business, marketing, and media thinking is built on other people's frameworks, models, theories, and received wisdom. This can help clarify complex problems – but as ideas travel between disciplines and organisations they are often simplified, misapplied or treated as universal truths. I'm digging into these, across the following categories - the first being a catch-all for shorter thoughts:
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