Political Thought

Over the course of the last half dozen years, China's supreme leader Xi Jinping has made extraordinary changes which have profound implications not only for the Chinese people but nations throughout the world. Given how swiftly and fundamentally China's relations with the rest of the world are changing under Xi's rule, it is imperative that we know what Xi Jinping Thought is, how it evolved, and why it is so important.

What if nobody has to win the argument about how society should be organized? In the nineteenth century, Pierre-Joseph Proudhon shocked the world by declaring that property is theft—and then, rather cheerfully, proposed that people could get along just fine without governments telling them what to do. He was mocked, attacked, imprisoned, and largely misunderstood. He also happened to be onto something.

There is an idea that has never died—only changed its costume. In the Victorian era it wore a frock coat and spoke of civilization. In the twentieth century it wore a uniform and spoke of race. Today it wears a hoodie and speaks of disruption. The idea is this: that life is fundamentally a competition, that the strong deserve to win, and that science—nature itself—has given us permission to stop feeling bad about it.

Thinking about politics has tended to be historical in nature because of the comparisons and contrasts that can be drawn between past and present. Different periods in politics have used the past differently. At times, political thought can be said to have been drawn directly from the study of history; at others, perhaps including our own time, the relationship is more indirect.

Somewhere between the courtroom and the kitchen table, between the breaking-news headline and the whispered suspicion, humanity picked up a devastating habit: the reflex to accuse first and ask questions later—if at all.

This book is a philosophical inquiry into modern power—an examination not of what power does, but of how it appears. It begins from a simple, unsettling intuition: that in our time, the essence of power no longer lies in command, action, or consequence, but in spectacle—in the artful display of its own image. Drawing on the insights of Guy Debord and the Situationist International, I follow the transformation of authority from substance to surface. Once, power ruled through acts—laws, decrees, and the visible machinery of enforcement.

This audiobook narrated by William Hope provides an entertaining introduction to ancient Chinese thinkers—and what they can teach us about today's most pressing political questions in China and beyond.

This book is not here to comfort you. It does not promise hope, progress, or some tender reassurance about the nobility of the human project. It will not tell you that everything happens for a reason, or that there is meaning to be found in our collective struggle. Instead, it stands firmly within the logic of Jean Baudrillard’s simulacra—a philosophy that does not seek to reveal a hidden truth, but to diagnose the condition of our reality. We no longer live in the world; we live within our own perception of it.

This book is a profound philosophical meditation on the last frontier of human thought—the word itself. Moving between reason and instinct, between the human voice and the mechanical echo, it explores how language both illuminates and betrays our attempts to make sense of existence. From Korzybski’s search for a “map that does not deceive” to the emergence of artificial intelligence—a mind without a body, without pain, without fear—this book traces the transformation of language from a tool of clarity into a space of inner conflict, mercy, and presence.

For centuries, diplomacy has been humanity’s most elegant disguise for deceit. Treaties are broken before their ink dries, and the pursuit of peace has become a theatre of power. Algorithmic Diplomacy tears away this illusion, asking the most dangerous question of the twenty-first century: what if the only path to lasting peace is to surrender politics to reason itself? Boris Kriger envisions a world where nations speak not through fear and vanity, but through a transparent architecture of artificial intelligences bound by international law.

We live in the most prosperous era in human history. We have technology our grandparents could not imagine. We live longer, safer, more comfortable lives than any generation before us. So why are depression and anxiety at record highs? Why do so many people feel that their work doesn't matter? Why does success leave us empty?

War is not an aberration of civilization. It is civilization's shadow—cast in every direction, at every hour, by the very light that humanity imagines will guide it to peace.

The world has always been a lunatic asylum. The only difference is that previous generations of lunatics have been tidied into history textbooks, where their madness looks orderly and even inevitable. Ours has not yet had that privilege. A superpower claims sovereignty over an allied neighbor's territory. A sitting president is kidnapped from his own country. Civilian populations on every side of every conflict are ground between millstones they did not build and cannot stop.

Every major nation on Earth is governed by someone you wouldn’t trust to park your car. From aging strongmen who confuse their own biography with history to ambitious young demagogues who confuse their Instagram following with a mandate, the global political class has achieved something remarkable: unanimous, bipartisan, cross-cultural incompetence. Meanwhile, automated systems already fly your planes, regulate your power grid, and manage the supply chains that keep civilization from starving.

Something is deeply wrong with school—and everybody knows it. Students forget nearly everything they learn within months of passing a test. Teachers burn out, crushed between impossible bureaucratic demands and classrooms full of children who would rather be anywhere else. Parents oscillate between guilt and helplessness, dimly aware that the system they entrust with their children's futures is failing spectacularly—yet unable to imagine an alternative.

In 1800, a young Welsh factory manager did something no one had ever tried before: he treated his workers like human beings. He raised their wages, shortened their hours, built schools for their children, and — to the astonishment of absolutely everyone — made more money than ever.

Every revolution in history promised equality, brotherhood, and shared prosperity. Every one of them delivered tyranny, suffering, and betrayal. And yet the dream persists—because it was never wrong. Only the method was. In What Institutional Communism Got Wrong, Boris Kriger—a former Orthodox priest who ran a homeless shelter in his own house for nine years, lived in an Israeli kibbutz, and once found himself teaching communism to the general secretaries of Canada’s two communist parties—makes a case so simple it sounds radical: cooperation is the natural state of human beings.

This audiobook challenges the fatalism surrounding the housing crisis and lays out a bold, humane alternative: a world where home is treated not as a privilege, but as a universal right. Drawing from lived experience, economic analysis, and urban design, it dismantles the myths of deservingness, productivity, and property, exposing how systems preserve exclusion by intent.

Karl Marx was convinced he had decoded the secret engine of history. He was wrong—but not in the way most people think. The problem was never that Marx cared about injustice; it was that he built an unfalsifiable doctrine, mistook economic mechanics for universal law, and envisioned a revolution to be carried out by a class that no longer exists.

Political history often appears to be driven by ideology, strategy, or the cold arithmetic of power. Yet behind the speeches, alliances, and threats stand people whose inner world was formed long before they entered public office. This audiobook reveals the hidden psychological engines of geopolitics: childhood wounds disguised as doctrines, unacknowledged fears enlarged into national myths, infantile rivalries inflated into global crises.