Audible's Nonfiction Audiobook of the Year, 2022

What do you get when you take the funny and charismatic performer Lake Bell and team her up with her pal Malcolm Gladwell’s Pushkin Industries for an audio-centric deep dive into the human voice? My listening happy place. Bell, who made the film In a World… about the voiceover industry, wasn’t done unpacking her obsession with how we sound, and with Inside Voice she explores every angle. With interviews and recordings featuring some truly iconic pipes—Jeff Goldblum! Tracey Ullman! Obama! Bugs Bunny!—Inside Voice is brilliantly steered by Bell’s infectious inquisitiveness and (obviously) excellent narration. The meta-ness of it all is half the fun, but Inside Voice is also packed with emotion and a sonic signature all its own. —Kat J.

In humanity’s race to course-correct against environmental and technological disaster, Ways of Being is essential listening. The artist and philosopher James Bridle (they/them) begins in Epirus, Greece, whose pristine terrain faces imminent drilling from the futuristic AI of an energy conglomerate. But the dark tone of Bridle’s introduction soon gives way to their inspired innovation—a paradigm shift in the way we think about intelligence, from a decidedly non-human perspective. Drawing on the vast potential of what we can learn from plants and animals, Bridle proposes an “ecology of technology” that values the interconnectedness of our shared world rather than an imagined hierarchy. In the process, they’ve created a beautifully humble audiobook bursting with bold ideas and “wow” moments. —K.J.

If the bad news is that workers are experiencing more burnout than ever, the good news is that the last couple of years have seen a corresponding rise in “antiwork” lit. From exploding the myth of laziness to actively combating productivity, these works offer consolation and care to the exploited and exhausted. Rest Is Resistance goes further. Author and “Nap Bishop” Tricia Hersey introduces the brilliant idea that rest is not just a biological necessity but a healing act of resistance and a divine right, especially in our anxious era of late capitalism in the chokehold of white supremacy. Listen to Hersey’s powerful message, read in her own assured and assuring voice, and you won’t need permission to take a break; it will be a sacred duty. —K.J.

When I was younger, I was certain I’d be a chef when I grew up. I was glued to the Food Network, where I’d watch in awe as simple ingredients were transformed. Though my career aspirations have shifted, I retain a soft spot for the art of cooking and the intersection of sharing a meal and sharing your story. It’s a pleasure that’s savored by celebrity chef Marcus Samuelsson and other famous foodies in Seat at the Table. Samuelsson and his cohost, California cuisine pioneer Jonathan Waxman, sit down with the restaurateurs behind some of the nation’s most celebrated culinary institutions, from local treasures to the truly legendary. Featuring industry giants like Wolfgang Puck and Ruth Reichl, this podcast goes beyond the menu to explore the history and cultural impact of spots synonymous with good eats. —Alanna M.

In other eras, nonfiction writers have used cod, salt, and guns, germs, and steel as filters to explain the world. Heather Radke went a different way. Surely the most bodacious microhistory yet, Butts is the deep dive we needed in 2022. Inspired by the dramatic swings in cultural attitudes toward her own backside, Radke embarks on an enlightening study of this most enigmatic and frequently hilarious body part. Drawing on her background as a museum curator, she introduces key historical figures and flashpoints—Venus of Hottentot, Buns of Steel, Kate and Kim—to unpack how (primarily Western) culture construes and projects meaning onto the (primarily female) human butt. Featuring the voices of Radke and narrator Emily Tremaine, Butts is a roundly enjoyable listen. —K.J.

My social life was once the center of my world, a rich tapestry of friends old and new, near and far, casual and intimate, digital and IRL. But a decade of parenthood, recovery from alcohol addiction, and a global pandemic transformed this teeming landscape into a ghost town—cue the tumbleweeds—practically without my noticing. Thank heaven for Dr. Marisa G. Franco, who delivers an empathetic and research-backed ode to the power of friendship that couldn’t have arrived at a better time. Using the science of attachment to bolster the narrative and tactical tips, Franco also delivers clear and compelling narration, making the audio feel like nothing so much as a chat with a friend. —K.J.

From Mary Roach’s Stiff to Caitlin Doughty’s Smoke Gets in Your Eyes, my interest in mortality comes to life in my Audible library. In practice, however, I respond to death poorly, which often makes me wonder: Do fellow fans of macabre listens feel as ironically squeamish about corpses as I do? Featuring interviews with executioners, embalmers, grave diggers, and more, Hayley Campbell’s latest release takes a hands-on approach to dissecting the colliding traditions that make death both a cultural obsession and taboo. All the Living and the Dead raises electrifying questions that will surely plague my mind for months to come. —Haley H.

When it comes to criminality on a systemic level, there are few cases more troubling than the 1980s AIDS epidemic and the response—or lack thereof—that followed. Honing in on the early days of the virus’s rapid transmission through New York City’s queer community, Fiasco probes how activists, physicians, and politicians clashed as the health and well-being of millions teetered on the edge. This podcast, produced by the team behind Slow Burn, sheds a light on the mistakes, missteps, and misunderstandings (many of which were rooted in bigotry and homophobia) that led to the tragic—and perhaps preventable—deaths of so many. —A.M.

Once in a while, a science writer comes along whose expertise is matched by their storytelling flair, producing the kind of nonfiction so fascinating that you’ll keep sitting in the car or organizing another drawer just to listen longer. Beloved Atlantic journalist and I Contain Multitudes author Ed Yong is one of those rare gems. With his characteristic wit, compassion, and clarity, An Immense World dives into the world of animal senses, explaining how creatures from beetles to whales experience the world—not just via scent and sight and taste but through vibrations, electromagnetic waves, and more. It’s a gorgeous book about the hidden wonders of nature, and no one could read it better than the charming, delightfully British-accented author himself. —K.J.

Born in the late 1990s, I’m a “cusp” millennial, meaning I can’t always relate to the experiences of slightly older peers, and yet I often feel ancient among Gen Z. Whatever your own generational designation, Chuck Klosterman’s smart meditation on the ever-relevant ’90s, masterfully narrated by Dion Graham, is a must-listen. In his signature style—a near-scholarly analysis of pop culture and society punctuated by sly humor, incisive commentary, and probing introspection—Klosterman unpacks everything from Bush and Clinton to Garth Brooks, ruminating on the impact of each along the way. Shunning simple rosy retrospection, Klosterman offers a fresh, fascinating take on a time oft reminisced but seldom reckoned with. —A.M.

Back when Siddhartha Mukherjee’s The Emperor of All Maladies won the first of many, many prizes, a journalist cracked, “It should’ve won the Only Book prize, because this writer, they’re done.” Suffice it to say the remark hasn’t aged well, but it did help propel the famed oncologist to dive even deeper into storytelling, from genetics (The Gene) to his latest triumph, a lyrical meditation on the fundamental unit of life. In a pitch-perfect performance from narrator Dennis Boutsikaris, The Song of the Cell is an ambitious blend of medical history, biology, and memoir that explains how the discovery of cells transformed our understanding of the body, a breakthrough with particular resonance in the context of Covid. —Katie O.

On its face, the premise for Johann Hari’s latest bestseller isn’t new. The internet is robbing us of our ability to pay attention, one news alert and social media dopamine hit at a time? It’s barely a headline worth surfacing among our endless notifications. But in Hari’s crisp, entertaining telling, the subject gets a needed overhaul with a systemic critique of big tech and a surprisingly optimistic prescription for change. Rather than simply restricting screen time, Hari argues, we must actively pursue the elusive flow state achieved by artists, rock climbers, and other Zen-like masters as a means of regaining control. Using his own experiences as a springboard, Hari’s personal delivery of the material keeps listeners focused for the long haul. —K.J.