2020: Well, this was a surprise. I've heard nothing but good things about this book, and I'm honestly stunned by those rave reviews. I was deeply disappointed by this new installment from Malcolm Gladwell; it makes me wonder if I should revisit some of his earlier works to see if they still hold up.

My first point of contention: this book should have about 75 trigger warnings, blasted across its cover. I went into the book ignorant of the types of "stranger interactions" it contained, and was shocked by the graphic descriptions of pedophilia, torture, racism, rape, and suicide, just to name a few. (Also, how is suicide a "stranger" interaction? Great question). Be prepared for heavy topics treated with scientific coldness, and an oversimplification of some high profile traumatic events.

It seemed like Gladwell was trying to get to a point, but kept using such sensational and extreme examples that he lost his thesis in the emotions of the stories. He starts off by telling us that "strangers are not easy", but fails to define what he considers a stranger. He gives us examples of how difficult it is to tell when people are lying, and concludes that we should look at a scene from the tv show Friends to better be able to read those around us (um, what?).

The storytelling, in typical Gladwell style, is thorough and compelling. Even if you don't remember every detail of these examples from the news, Gladwell covers them in a way that brings right back to the moment you first heard about Jerry Sandusky, Larry Nassar, or Brock Turner. But in the context of the book, especially with its title and the other examples provided, Gladwell left the horrible taste in my mouth that the atrocities committed by these men can be boiled down to "communication issues between strangers" (completely ignoring the fact that the victims of both Sandusky and Nassar were not strangers of the perpetrators). I was really done with the book the moment it was suggested that the "real victims" of Sandusky & Nassar were the parents who "defaulted to truth" when they didn't believe their children, who told them that trusted adults in their lives were assaulting them. DONE.

The whole book is a complete oversimplification of the biggest headlines of the past couple of years, attempting to convince us that people lie and memory is fallible. Gladwell claims that Turner's raping of Chanel Miller was a communication misunderstanding due to alcohol, and gives the horrible impression that it was not as big of a deal as it was made out to be. He tries to "solve" what happened between Brian Encinia and Sandra Bland, while completely skating over any mention of the racism inherent in the story. There's barely a footnote at the end of the chapter that mentions the fact that black and Hispanic drivers are stopped at much higher rates than those of white drivers, and that their stops lead to eventual arrests of the drivers at much higher rates as well.

I don't know what Malcolm Gladwell wanted me to walk away with after reading this book. Maybe that means I missed something, but I would also encourage you to peruse Andrew Ferguson of The Atlantic's review: https://www.theatlantic.com/ideas/archive/2019/09/when-malcolm-gladwell-says-nothing-at-all/597697/

I added one full star to this review for the exemplary audiobook, and I highly encourage you (if you are going to read it) to listen to the book. Gladwell narrates the book, and has the actual people he's quoted read their own words as much as possible. He has actors portray court transcriptions, and includes "Hell You Talmbout", performed by Janelle Monáe, as the book's theme song. It includes the real sound and dialogue clips from the Friends scene critiqued above. It's as close to a podcast-style audiobook I've ever heard, and I would love to see many more audiobooks created in this style.

In conclusion, Black Lives Matter.