100 books like Bandwidth

One of my favorite things in the world is listening to a good audiobook, start to finish, on a long road trip. Having moved back and forth across the country more times than I care to count, I’ve done this a fair number of times, and my favorite memory by far is the experience I had when listening to this book for the first time.

I’ve enjoyed most of Blake Crouch’s books for their tight pacing and titillating, mind-candy premises (in Dark Matter, it’s a neat mechanic for hopping alternate realities), but what really hit me with this one in particular was how monumentally hard this book drove home this feeling of losing (like literally losing) the one you love the most, and what you might do, what life you might choose, to find them again. It’s hardly ground that no one’s covered before, but without spoiling anything, I’ll just… show more.

Suarez’s debut novel focuses on an all too real possibility of our future—and the dangers we could face.

Daemon warns of our reliance on computers as he tells a fast-paced story about a massive software program that awakens and initiates a terrible plan no one can decipher. We seem to accept that computers are programmed with our best interest in mind, though few truly know everything hidden in those endless lines of code.

Suarez shows the dangers of that near-blind acceptance. Knowledge is power. In Daemon, this tenant is taken to the extreme, with an artificial intelligence holding all the cards. It’s a future we might already be facing but don’t realize yet. 

The oldest book on the list, Lucifer’s Hammer seems to be an end-of-the-world tale. And it is to a degree: the world is forever altered after a comet enters the earth’s atmosphere and breaks apart, the huge pieces slamming into the West Coast.

It’s the aftermath, though, where things get interesting. How do people survive? How much of their humanity survives with them? This is the story Niven and Pournelle tell, with a level of realism that echoes people’s attitudes and actions witnessed during the COVID pandemic.

With a clash between rival forces leading to a showdown that dictates the survivors’ future, Lucifer’s Hammer has continued to resonate with me years after reading it.

To me, Crichton’s strength was taking scientific knowledge/achievements and crafting stories that showed how they could impact us.

Yes, he took those to extremes (DNA sequencing to create dinosaurs, robots that revolt against their human masters, and so), but that’s the job of a writer. Prey is not his best-known work but is mesmerizing in terms of the type of future that could exist. His story uses a mix of swarm technology, biology, and AI to craft a cautionary tale, with a main character who has to fight to save his loved one.

Crichton uses biology as part of his support for how his future could take place, with implications that I think few consider as we develop more sophisticated technology. A scary future indeed.

By exploring today’s rapidly changing world, Friedman helps you take a step back and consider how we might be able to live life at a reasonable pace. Thank You For Being Late serves as a guide for how to respond to the speed of change around us. By understanding how the world is changing through the possibilities and dangers of Moore’s Law (technology and the internet), the Market (globalization), and Mother Nature (climate change), Friedman encourages us to consider our own adaptability. Rather than complaining and being static as individuals, Friedman suggests we need to embrace change and look at what is in our control to adapt, learn, look forward and still achieve what we want to.

As it turns out, the Germans never got close to building an atomic bomb—largely because of some major mistakes at the outset (one of them made by their top nuclear chemist because of a crisis in his love life). Powers, a Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist, created some controversy because of his portrayal of the man who didn’t build the German bomb. That controversy continues. 

I once had to physically separate the author from his critics and threaten to remove disruptive protesters from the audience when I moderated a session on the history of the German bomb at the Smithsonian.  

Christopher Dunn's research is impressive, as he shares over 30 years of study and nine trips to Egypt in Lost Technologies of Ancient Egypt.

He explains the unique marks left by skilled craftsmen that today, with modern technology, we would have great difficulty reproducing. Dunn writes about the precision found in the monuments of Egypt. He uses digital photography and computer-aided design software to give the reader an appreciation for the ancient Egyptians' remarkable achievements.

He includes over 280 photographs of Egyptian monuments to support his theories, and his examination of the underground tunnels of the Serapeum is worth the price of the book alone. His explanation of the precision engineering achieved by our ancient ancestors leads the reader to question long-held beliefs about ancient people. 

One of my areas of scholarly interest is Roman intellectual history; I am curious about how Romans thought about their world and how this thinking changed over time (often through the introduction of new concepts or terms).

This interest allows me to examine the ways in which the Romans, at a cognitive level, simply understood information differently from how we do today. Riggsby analyzes various forms of information technology (maps, lists, tables, etc.) that seem basic and obvious, yet he reveals how rare it was for the Romans to deploy them (and usually in quite context-specific ways, such as military duty rosters).

This book really helped me question my assumptions about information literacy and how minds organize data, so that I am more aware of the cultural factors at work.

First published in 1958, this is one of Hannah Arendt’s most influential books and in it she attempts to define the human condition in the aftermath of World War II, developing her concept “natality.” 

It’s a challenging book that I’ve wrestled with and argued with and never forgotten. It includes some of her most powerful and frequently cited passages about birth. Lately, I’ve been returning to its opening pages, in which she discusses the launch of Sputnik into space. 

She saw this launch not as an exciting technological breakthrough, but as a fateful repudiation of our earthly existence, an existence that was defined by birth with possibilities and limitations.

I found the premise of The Candy House very intriguing – the novel is built around a new technology that allows you to download your consciousness.

The science is a little far-fetched (I certainly hope it is, anyway) and yet the reverberations of this fictional technology are easy to imagine in real life. The unique way in which the book is written, each chapter a window into a different life, shows how technology affects us all in small and large ways, whether we subscribe to it or not.

What I love most about this book, though, is the contrast between the intended altruistic uses for ‘Own Your Unconscious’ and the various uses which devolve from it. It all rings too true.