Mr Pink's criticisms of traditional methods of motivation are entertaining and valid. Many of the ideas put forward are interesting and worthy of consideration.
However, while he advocates allowing employees more autonomy and freedom to decide things for themselves, he allows the reader less and less. He repeats fairly interesting ideas over and over, lecturing us about their value until one gets sick of them, particularly generalizing techniques that might work well for software developers, but few other businesses.
Instead of allowing the reader the decide for himself and ponder how he or she might incorporate some part of these ideas into his or her own business, he ends up hectoring us over and over about "FedEx days", "Flow" and "I-type" people.
It is ironic that, just as he insists we must abandon our rigid 9 to 5 mentality, he is shoe-horning everything into the constraining format of a book with a strong thesis he thinks he can sell.
It's a pity he doesn't have the courage to follow his own advice.
This is not really a history book. It contains so few actual facts and dates, but is full of rambling generalizations. There is a passage that takes 2 hours to read about the history of Christianity, and yet it gives no sources and only two or three dates. This is certainly not a history; it is little more than opinion; indeed had it been written by a well-known theologian as a general discussion of his ideas and how he feels about other peoples' ideas, then that would be fine.
And another annoyance is the way every quotation is delivered with a daft echo effect.
If you want a basic history of the middle ages, I found "A Survey of the Middle Ages" far superior.
At times the book makes its points clearly and it is fascinating. but so much of the time it is unfocused, not content with describing natures greatest inventions, the author insists on giving equal weight to the history of thought surrounding each "invention". When he is focused, he can be witty and compelling, but you turn around for a moment, and he has put down his rifle and is wielding a blunderbus.
For large periods it is like listening to an orchestra in which every instrument is being played at exactly the same volume; it kind of makes sense, but with no modulation, no shape to it.
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