I moved some of my books - my favorite ones - into my office:
Since my books are behind my laptop, I can now be thin-sliced as a proper galaxy brain during podcast appearances. However, such an impression would be misleading. Friends commonly ask me, “Did you read all your books?” I steal Derrida's joke and respond, “Three or four, but I read those four really, really well.”
This joke is close to the truth. While I have read many books, many in my library are unread, half-read, or admired from a distance. I do not just have a library, but what Nassim Nicholas Taleb calls an “antilibrary,” all the books owned that remain unread. I have intemperance with buying books, and Camille teases me about this. Confessedly, I am addicted to the giddiness I receive when an Amazon package arrives.
There is a Japanese term for buying and not reading books: tsundoku, a word that does not carry any stigma in Japan. In contrast, consumerist culture has a stigma about buying things and not using them. Books should be an exception to this. In The Black Swan, Taleb presents the antilibrary as a humility device.
You will accumulate more knowledge and more books as you grow older, and the growing number of unread books on the shelves will look at you menacingly. Indeed, the more you know, the larger the rows of unread books. Let us call this collection of unread books an antilibrary.
Looking at my bookshelf and seeing all the unread books, I feel like an imposture, an ignoramus, and a complete fool. I am reminded by how little I know, humbled by my lack of knowledge on how the world really works. Having a constant source of humility is good, as the adage “be humble or be humiliated” is quite true. Yet, my antilibraries humility-induction is a secondary reason. My antilibraries vibe is the primary one.
Camille recently sent me this post on Instagram:
Yes! Given my metaphysical promiscuity, I can call forth my inner animist and treat this proposition as true. With shamanoid1 sophistication, one can absorb a book's vibe through mere touch. Metaphysically code-switching to a materialist, this claim is bullshit. But nobody cares what materialists think anymore. Besides, I have a bad habit to justify.
I'll take the vibe argument seriously. Vibes have something to do with aesthetics, the philosophy of beauty and taste. The ones I choose for my new bookshelf represent my eclectic taste with what I sense is original thinking. The books are mostly non-fiction, but some formative fiction books that influenced me are here. Many are “viewquake books,” books that transform one's view of the world forever. Additionally, there are self-help2 books, books from my academic philosophy days, and controversial books that would get me canceled by polite company, safely hidden on the bottom shelf away from the view of my webcam.
I have not read all the books, but I have at least read the Amazon description or back cover before purchasing. I've also intimately touched the book, caressed the pages, and sensefully whispered random passages to myself, being teased by its wisdom, knowing I will not be reading it anytime soon. This bibliophilic eroticism, while frustrating, allows me to get the vibe of a book. The confluence of vibes from all of my books allows me to have a vibe, which is the same as the vibe of this newsletter, as well as the whole experience that is The Stoa.
To demonstrate my vibe literacy, I’ll look at two shelves and describe their vibe. The first shelf consists of my favorite viewquake books:
While the second shelf consists of the better self-help books I’ve read or at least touched:
In both rows, there is a mix of read and unread books, but I can tell the story of each. The viewquake books have a heavier vibe with greater depth. They are more dangerous, taking one down many rabbit holes, some of which are emotionally uncomfortable to travel down. Overall, they have an expansive quality, pressing against the known contours of one’s logical space.
In contrast, the self-help books have a lighter vibe and less depth. They promise practical relief when a particular pain point is solved. They weave between the spirit of “should” and “could,” mixing oversimplifying life and overpromising a new one. Overall, they have a pointed quality, directing one to a more agentic way of being.
Sensefully plugging into a book, even if it remains unread, offers a different kind of reading. If one only stays with the propositional content, they miss so much, neglecting all the soulfulness required to create it. I want to write a book one day, if only so it could sit in someone’s antilibrary, vibing with love.
Of course, the purpose of this entire entry is to give myself a sophisticated-sounding excuse for maintaining a bad habit. But even so, having a few bad habits is not such a bad thing, especially if they promise to increase one’s vibe literacy.
For other perspectives related to this entry, here are some posts from fellow Substackers:
“Antilibraries and the Value of the Books You Own but Have Not Read” by
from“What Is a Vibe?” by
from“On the Reality of Animism” by
and from
Also, in case you missed it, my 5,000 word “philosophical report” last year - “Meme to Vibe” - will give you the vibe download as to where we are collectively heading as a culture:
If you’d like to philosophically inquire with me, and vibe about what matters most, you can schedule a call here and read more about my practice here. To join Collective Journalling, become a Less Foolish member and RSVP behind the paywall. You can also show support for my work by subscribing, sharing, or leaving a comment.
What is Collective Journalling? This communal practice happens via Zoom and is 90 mins, with check-ins in the chat at the beginning and an opportunity to connect with fellow journalers in breakout rooms at the end. You do not have to stay the whole time. If you are in an antisocial mood, you do not have to interact with anyone, yet you can still enjoy the coffee shop-esque communal vibe. The session concludes with an optional sharing of a passage in the chat. Most of the time is spent in silence together, individually inquiring about what matters most. A lovely group of people has formed around this practice. The practice occurs on weekdays @ 8 AM ET. RSVP link is behind the paywall.
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