I feel like I should have read more books this year, given that I spent most of it underemployed and stuck at home. Then again, I typically do much of my reading in coffee shops and airplanes, neither of which I’ve had occasion to spend time in for the past nine months. I also wrote another book, which is rather time-consuming. Below is my annual post of books that stood out for me in 2020. (That’s when I read them, not necessarily when they were published.)

The Narrow Corridor, Daron Acemoglu and James Robinson — If there was an apt year for diving deep into the relationship of liberty and state capacity, it was certainly this one. Recommended for its wide-ranging exploration of state and society, economic development, and the fragility of liberalism.

Apollo’s Arrow, Nicholas Christakis — An impressively good book to get out in such a short period of time, providing a broad overview of this strange pandemic year and situating it in historical context.

Spillover, David Quammen — This was a re-read for me, but a worthwhile one as we found ourselves in the midst of a zoonotic outbreak of the type predicted in this book in 2012. I revisited it in a blog post back in March.

The Seabird’s Cry, Adam Nicolson — After the long election, I desperately needed a break from politics and picked up this book about seabirds, a lovingly informative look into the lives of ten different species. It’s exceptionally good nature writing.

Something Deeply Hidden, Sean Carroll — This was the first book in a long time that brought back the wonder and excitement of reading speculative physics books like Brian Greene’s The Elegant Universe back in high school. This one makes a tantalizing case for the many-worlds hypothesis to explain quantum weirdness.

Weird, Olga Khazan — Speaking of weird, I enjoyed Atlantic writer Olga Khazan’s blend of first-hand reporting on people who turned their weirdness into a superpower and her own recollections of growing up as a Russian outsider in Texas. (As a weird Texan adolescent myself, I could relate .)

Calling Bullshit, Carl Bergstrom and Jevon West — This is a fun and informative book about misleading statistics, bad science, and biased news. The examples and illustrations are smartly chosen and it never gets too technical while remaining a very smart read. As a science journalist without formal statistical training, I appreciated the defense of treating some statistical work as a black box that you don’t necessarily need to know the inner workings of. (Bonus surprise: Finding my friend’s research on workplace wellness programs discussed in the chapter on selection bias.)

Lakota America, Pekka Hämäläinen — I have no excuse for not knowing more about Native American history and read this comprehensive new book on the Lakotas to begin addressing that. Highly recommended.

Overdoing Democracy, Robert Talisse — From one of my undergraduate philosophy professors, Overdoing Democracy contends that part of what ails American democracy is that we’re simply doing too much of it, losing our capacity to relate to each other outside of our political roles. Especially relevant as we can hopefully turn down the temperature post-Trump.

History Has Begun, Bruno Maçães — I just finished this and its mode of analysis is so different from what I’m used to that I don’t quite know what to make of it yet. That said, its discussion of Trump, COVID, and American politics’ venture into unreality is engaging and thought-provoking.

The United States of Cocktails, Brian Bartels — More than a book about cocktails, this love letter to American bar and drinking culture is an especially welcome escape in this year that we’ve all been stuck at home.

Brief notes on fiction: I started the year with Tasmanian author Richard Flanagan’s indescribably weird and gritty Gould’s Book of Fish, set mostly in a fantastical and cruel nineteenth century Australian prison; recommended but I’d suggest The Narrow Road to the Deep North first. Giovanni’s Room was my long overdue introduction to James Baldwin. Jumping on bandwagons, I loved Min Jin Lee’s Pachinko and Elena Ferrante’s My Brilliant Friend, with the rest of the Neapolitan novels now next on my to-read list. Daniel Mueenuddin’s short story collection In Other Rooms, Other Wonders, set in Pakistan, is excellent. I really liked Emily St. John Mandel’s new book The Glass Hotel, very loosely inspired by Bernie Madoff’s Ponzi scheme. Taffy Brodesser-Akner’s Fleishman Is in Trouble is funny, surprising, and brilliantly constructed as its perspective shifts from the titular character to that of the novel’s women.

What should I add to my list for next year? Recommendations welcome!