For the unintiaiated, the “marshmallow test” was an experiment conducted with preschool children to establish what their ability to exercise self-control to wait for a larger reward was. In the original experiment, this was one marshmallow (or similar treat) as soon as they wanted, or double this if they waited until an adult returned to the room.
But crucially, the research underpinning The Marshmallow Test is that self-control at a very early age has a strong impact on outcomes throughout life. Those who can delay gratification for 20 minutes for a greater reward at a young age on average achieve better qualifications, save more for retirement and manage more stable relationships.
Mischel then sets out to understand what factors effect self control, from genes through stress levels in infancy, to factors under the control of adults. He tests public policies, parenting techniques and ways to control your thinking process to allow slower thinking to step into decision making. Thinking Fast and Slow was referenced, along with other research into how we control impulsive decision making and step back.
I found this an interesting read, and am glad I picked it up from the library.
I read Goodbye Christopher Robin travelling across France on a TGV, with my son next to me giggling uncontrollably as he listened to The House at Pooh Corner on audiobook. He is of course “Christopher Robin” age, happily and innocently talking to his soft toys.
I was surprised by how long it took in this book for a wedge to be driven between author and son, and how devoted the author was, despite his mistakes in sharing that. I can clearly see where all this sharing is going, even without the clear hint from the title. But it is a love story of a marriage and then the bonds between a father and son. How these bonds are severed leads to a heartbreaking conclusion.
Prior to picking this book up, I was unaware of Harry Griffin’s writings about climbing and general life in the Lake District. He wrote in an interesting era, as the national parks were set up, and climbing was becoming a more popular hobby. He also has the great benefit of writing as a local, who lived his life at the foot of the fells, and knew both the fells and the people who climbed them and made a living from them intimately.
This collection is broken into distinct sections, covering the main publications he wrote for: the Lancashire Evening Post, Cumbria, Fell and Rock Climbing Club, The Guardian Country Diary pieces, and a set of other writings. Each of these display that intimacy, and give imersive descriptions of climbing and exploring the fells, or meeting shepherds in the pub, or of his life as a music journalist.
His descriptions are so inspiring that I am tempted to learn to climb myself, and not just plod across the summits. But I think I’ll stick to plodding and skiing for now. His music pieces have also returned me to regular piano-playing
Because he loved the Lake District so much, this shone in not only his climbing but also his curiosity as to how the ancient routes across the fells came to be. What did Moses of Moses’s trod really smuggle? Who is the Jack that Jack’s Rake is named after? Sadly these are unknown, and become more unknowable as time passes, so they remain as open questions.
This is a well-curated collection by a writer who loved his subject, and well worth reading through.
An exploration of the history of the three Abrahamic religions and their sibling-like relationship.
Aside from the inbuilt assumption that God is real, this made for fascinating reading. The history of how the three religions came into existence is told through the parables of sibling rivalry. Then we understand how theology has developed peacefully and how all the intention of peace between tribes is subverted into violence and rivalry.
Unfortunately as this was recommended to me by someone who was trying to explain where faith comes from to me, it still felt like faith as a social control method, even if it is supposed to be used for good.
This is not a book to read for the writing style, but then English is not Malala’s first, or second language. But instead it is a story to read for inspiration, about a girl who didn’t give up in the face of insurmountable opposition, and who despite coming so close to paying the ultimate price, has made leaps of progress as a result.
This was a “quick read” abridged version from the library, and I’ll look out for the full version instead because I want to read that greater depth.
This was picked up from a charity shop on our summer camping trip (in the same shop my son got 6 books as they were trying to clear down their children’s shelves with a 3 for £1 deal. His favourite was an old, small-type, paperback of The House at Pooh Corner.) I picked it up to read on the next camping trip, as it had been stored on the van bookshelf. I had to leave my misgivings about the cover of this book behind, as it was clearly sketched by someone who knew nothing about the geography of the places mentioned. But once I was in the pages I just kept reading.
I should hate this. English decides to deal with mid-life maudlin by abandoning his wife and children frequently and going in hunt of snow. But then again the temptation of snow is strong, and I can see the draw to keep going back. In fact it is only my own set of responsibilities that stops me from setting off now, and I’m hoping for snow on our planned winter walking weekends, with the van winterised and ready to go if we get some within reach on a weekend that we’re free.
This book is not a specialist on any subject, but meanders through the history of colonisation, scientific discovery, sports history and meteorology. It is the richer for that, for English lacks the depth in any of these to be a specialist, but has the passion to provide an overview woven into the narrative of his travels.
One of those gems that is found one in a blue moon, or July snowfall.
This thoughtful little book discusses how the news is chosen, and how this affects our world views. Taking topics by turn, the general theme is that light-touch headlines cause us to be less, not more, aware of the realities of the world around us.
I loved how it looks at good intentions of sharing important information can lead to a bias in how we view the world, and how news cannot allow depth of studying of decisions, but only outcomes.
It certainly has helped break me of my headline-watching habits, and after a couple of weeks I don’t think that is a bad thing. Instead I check a weekly news review, and don’t feel less aware of the world for it.
Yet another library oddity – a collection of Potter’s journals, which were originally written in code, transcribed by Linder. Unfortunately although the cracking of the code was interesting, the journal entries themselves had value only for dipping in and out of. Potter had kept a private diary for her own purposes, and as such this was not written from prosperity, but instead just a collection of very human comments.
I do want to see if I can hunt out the Beatrix Potter collection at the V&A next time I am in London though. Linder donated much of it as part of his fascination with Potter.
Following two quite heavy-going books, Bye Bye B&B is a humorous anecdotal biography on the last year of operation of a B&B near Thurso in the far north of the Scottish Highlands. This had me laughing aloud at times, especially when Campbell is dealing with BT and their notoriously dreadful customer services. Or when she lets guests ride her own horses and they get carried away by them
The life of a B&B owner is not for everyone, and even for those who choose it certainly has its challenges. Not least
the tourist board Visit Scotland’s changing standards and methods of inspection. This is hard enough for a woman who ultimately leaves her B&B for a career with VisitScotland, so you are left wondering just how those less connected to the organisation feel.
In the original “Great Escape” some individuals escaped from a prisoner of war camp, but in doing so had little impact on, or even made things worse for, the people left behind. In this book Deaton argues that the Western economic and medical success is of a similar kind, and that much of the world has been left behind. The question then posed is is this inevitable? And are there solutions to the cruelty of inequality?
Although this is by no means a light read, I found the experience of reading an economic text from an economist who doesn’t necessary push that the solutions to structural problems lie in the market to be a good one. Having tackled the costs as well as value of IPR, he then moves onto the aid paradox, and how it can support regimes that would otherwise fall and for which a case should be made that they should be allowed to fall with the will of their citizens.
There are some good bubble charts in the early pages where the underlying patterns for how the health, wealth and inequality of nations are linked, and he makes all this analysis understandable to this statistician.
Since this book was written Deaton has won the Nobel Prize for Economics, which is promising for the recognition of the direction this field can go in.