Hugin & Munin Publishing

Some books linger not because they change your mind, but because they sharpen something you already suspected. On Bullshit by Harry Frankfurt is one of those. I remember first noticing it when it appeared in book form in 2005, already carrying the quiet reputation of something slightly unusual—a philosopher taking on a word most would avoid in formal discourse. That contrast alone makes it memorable. But the staying power comes from something else: the precision of the idea. Frankfurt is not really interested in explaining why the world is full of bullshit. If anything, he largely sidesteps that question. What he does instead is narrower, and more useful. He tries to define what bullshit actually is . And the distinction he draws is sharper than it first appears. Bullshit vs. Lies At first glance, it is tempting to think of bullshit as just a softer form of lying. Frankfurt argues that this is fundamentally wrong. A liar, in his framework, is still tethered to the truth. They kno...

I’ve been reading Inadequate Equilibria recently, and it sent me down a familiar but still slightly unsettling line of thought: how often systems end up in states that are stable, self-reinforcing—and clearly not very good. This is usually where the idea of a Nash equilibrium comes in. In simple terms, it describes a situation where no individual actor can improve their outcome by changing their strategy alone, assuming everyone else keeps doing what they’re doing. The system settles. It stops moving. But that doesn’t mean it’s optimal. It just means it’s hard to escape. The classic example is the prisoner’s dilemma. Two actors, each making individually rational choices, end up with a worse collective outcome than if they had coordinated. What makes it powerful is not that it is a thought experiment, but that it maps disturbingly well onto real-world systems. A system can remain balanced even as both sides make it worse. Arms Races: Stability Through Mutual Escalation The Cold ...

Some books are valuable because they tell you something new. Others are valuable because they give shape and clarity to things you had already half noticed but never fully articulated. Inadequate Equilibria: Where and How Civilizations Get Stuck belongs firmly in the second category for me. Written by Eliezer Yudkowsky, the book asks a deceptively simple question: why do entire systems, institutions, and even civilizations sometimes remain stuck in arrangements that are obviously worse than they could be? That framing immediately appealed to me. I had recently read Steven Pinker’s Rationality , which I enjoyed even if I did not necessarily feel I learned many entirely new things from it. Pinker’s focus is largely on why it is difficult for individuals to think rationally. Inadequate Equilibria , by contrast, shifts the lens outward. It asks why whole societies can get trapped in patterns that seem plainly inferior, and why such systems can persist for so long despite their flaws. ...

One of the recurring patterns in fantasy and science fiction is the appearance of powerful female institutions operating quietly behind the scenes of history. Sometimes they are mystical sisterhoods guarding ancient knowledge. Sometimes they are magical orders advising rulers. In other cases they function as religious organizations, diplomatic networks, or even militant orders enforcing ideological orthodoxy. Power rarely sits on the throne—but it decides who does. What makes these institutions particularly interesting is the kind of power they represent. In many cases, they stand in contrast to the more familiar structures of authority in speculative fiction—kings, generals, and chosen heroes who wield power openly and directly. These sisterhoods operate differently. Their influence is quieter, longer-term, and often less visible—shaping outcomes without appearing to control them. Rather than ruling openly, they act through training, knowledge, and long-term strategy. Their members ad...

Reading The Singularity Is Nearer  recently reminded me of another book that left a strong impression on me years ago: The Age of Em: Work, Love, and Life When Robots Rule the Earth . Both books attempt to grapple with a future in which intelligence transforms the world. But the paths they imagine could hardly be more different. Kurzweil’s vision centers on artificial intelligence: machines that eventually surpass human intelligence and begin recursively improving themselves. It is the familiar “singularity” narrative—rapid, runaway technological growth driven by minds that are no longer biological. Robin Hanson, however, proposes something stranger and in some ways more unsettling. In his world, the dominant intelligence of the future is not artificial at all. It is us. Or rather, copies of us. The Age of Em Hanson’s central concept is whole brain emulation . Instead of trying to invent artificial intelligence from scratch, we might simply scan a human brain in enough detail...

“ Lesbian necromancers explore a haunted gothic palace in space! ” That was how science fiction author Charles Stross famously described Gideon the Ninth in a promotional blurb for the book. The full version is even better: “Lesbian necromancers explore a haunted gothic palace in space! Decadent nobles vie to serve the deathless emperor! Skeletons!” Like the best blurbs, it manages to be both accurate and completely ridiculous. Readers quickly shortened the line to the now-famous meme “lesbian necromancers in space” , which spread widely across reviews and social media and became one of the most recognizable descriptions of the novel. But while the phrase is funny, it also points to something interesting. Necromancers have become one of the most flexible archetypes in modern fantasy and science fiction. Once they were almost always villains: dark wizards raising skeletons and commanding armies of the dead. But contemporary authors have expanded the concept dramatically....