Alchemy
Read by the mellifluous, or at least fabulously raconteur author, Alchemy serves to me as the contemporary vital yin to J. Storrs Hall’s Where is My Flying Car yang. Yes, we must overcome our engineering slump and get back on track towards the Jetsons, but at the same time, Sutherland pretty conclusively persuades, we leave a lot of psycho-physics on the table.
After all, what matters to living creatures is not facts but our perception of those facts, and we must stop neglecting this aspect of societal (and any other) improvement and progress. But because physical improvements are easier to measure than psychological ones, and psychological ones are not obvious and often counter-intuitive, we lean towards faster trains rather than other improvements around a journey that could shorten the entire journey. It’s basically a manifesto for bringing marketers and advertisers into decision-making usually reserved for accounts and lawyers.
One choice sentence:
Sometimes I have a £3.29 headache rather than a 79p one.
This is not merely fatuous; Rory backs it up with an ingenious defence of the placebo effect, pointing out that sometimes we don’t get ill until we’ve finished a big task, that we have a healing mode that focuses energies there.
