"Simplistic, but honestly so regarding the dichotomous approach. The arguments weren’t really strong and the final section is an open question, which made me twitch my nose since it somewhat broke the structure. I used to practice RV so I’m not rejecting the hypothesis of a “collective consciousness� (unconscious?) per se, but the reader isn’t provided with a strong enough link to neuroscience (plus: the definitions just ain’t there / are blurry) and is left with the assertion that science doesn’t really know where consciousness lies, given experiences the interpretation of which is debatable (another question is: why should we make it a matter of consciousness?). What if it's a construction of the - as we named that kind of processing - left brain? What would the asymmetry in density of neural connections suggest and why? Aren't some disorders suspected of being rooted in disproportionate connections?"

"I was really hoping to learn and really enjoy this book. The topic is something I am particularly interested in. Maybe it is because we don't have enough scientific evidence. But I felt this book to be a little simplistic - only dividing the brain up to "left" and "right" when it is so much more complex. The central idea of how the left vs right brain functions is very interesting and I do enjoy the thought experiments the book suggests. It is a pretty quick read as well. All in all it feels like it could be a good ted talk instead of a whole book."

"I really dislike giving books less than a 4/5 star review.

I used to slag on books.

But I try not to do it at all anymore.

Ordinarily.

If I don’t LOVE a book.

I don’t finish it.

And I ABSOLUTELY refuse to review a books I didn’t finish.

The main reason I don’t do negative reviews anymore is.

They end up being harmful.

Particularly if it makes people who liked the book feel bad.

Or if it keeps people from reading something that they may like or find useful.

I also care about the people who (a) take the time to write a book, and (b) whose livelihood depends (in part, or entirely) on book sales.

I have immense respect for people who actually manage to write books (especially considering that I haven’t done that yet, and may never actually get my shit together enough to accomplish such a difficult and often low return feat).

Given all that.

This will be one of the only 3/5 star reviews I will post in 2024.

I actually liked this book.

And I finished it.

And I recommend it to people who are new to the Buddhism, meets Neuroscience (NeuroDharma) universe.

I (unfortunately) read it side by side with Ian McGilcrest’s Ways Of Attending, and that was just plain unfair to this author.

Plus.

I have read (literally hundreds) of books in this space.

And I’m working on a dissertation in this general area.

I’m not bragging.

It’s just true.

So I’m kind of burned out on books like this.

Given all that.

Please please please read this if it looks like something you would enjoy and find interesting and informative.

I liked it.

I didn’t love it.

You might love it.

3/5 �"

"I picked up this ARC several months ago because my wife, who's an MD, had an advance copy and kept sending me screenshots tagged THIS!!!! Also, I'm a frequent flyer as a patient, so I kind of have a ringside seat to the issues as seen from both sides of the EMR screen. When I got the ARC I realized what I should already have known: this was going to be some seriously painful reading. It's not a long book, but it took me months.

Moral injury in healthcare might be most familiar to non-healthcare professionals from the worst days of the pandemic, when it was discussed with respect to the misery of not knowing how to take proper care of desperately ill people. Medical people in general want to help, and when they can't help they feel like failures.

The moral injury described in If I Betray These Words is inflicted by, in a word, capitalism. The for-profit entities that now control a large percentage of hospitals and medical practices and thus employ a large percentage of docs and nurses are far, far more interested in maximizing shareholder profit than they are in making it possible for healthcare workers to help their patients. Docs are allotted 15 or 20 minutes per appointment, and never mind if, for example (like my wife), they're managing cancer pain, which also entails addressing their patients' emotional state and that of their families.

If you're inclined to scoff at the idea that a doc who makes a lot of money might be suffering and deserve compassion, consider this: doctors commit suicide at twice the rate as the general population. For-profit healthcare is why.

I have been fairly fortunate in my doctors and surgeons, for many reasons. (None of which have to do with referrals from my wife, by the way; race and class privilege, education, and living in NYC have everything to do with it.) But I can see those doctors struggling. My neurosurgeon is kind and funny as well as very good at not paralyzing me while he's dicking around next to my spinal cord, but at every visit the initial intake is done by his (also lovely) NP, because docs are set a quota of daily appointments and to meet it they have to break pieces off each one. A third person checks my temperature and blood pressure. A fourth draws blood.

Where If I Betray These Words stumbles is in being liberal rather than radical. The trouble starts with the authors' frequent references to a halcyon past in which doctors could show patients all the kindness and care they wanted to. LOL. For starters, fifty years ago I wouldn't have dared to tell any of my doctors that I'm queer. But also, what a weird obliviousness to the history of medicine as an institution! You know why we don't have universal healthcare in the US? Harry Truman proposed it. The AMA won. The AMA also opposed Medicare. And (a little racist icing on this ugly cake), until 1968 the AMA admitted only white doctors.

Another stumble is in the focus exclusively on doctors. In one respect, this makes sense -- the authors are doctors, and some of the sources of moral injury are specific to them. But overall this framing leaves an impression that other HCWs -- nurses, especially -- aren't suffering just as much, being trapped in the same for-profit system.

There you have the whole problem. Dean and Talbot propose a number of improvements to the system: limit consolidation and vertical integration of healthcare systems; "choose our elected officials carefully" (have they not noticed the damage done to voting rights in the past decade?); make insurance more transparent; ditch prior authorization; ease up on documentation requirements. (This last might seem counterintuitive wrt patient safety, but ask yourself how much of your last visit your doctor spent looking at the screen instead of you. Also, be aware that the doc is probably spending at least another full workday's worth of hours on EMR every week besides what you're seeing.)

Well, you can see what's missing. All those proposals are fine, as far as they go, but they're nibbling at the edges. Every single doctor I know socially, and I know a lot of them, wants nothing more than to take good care of people. (Yes, yes, sampling error. Nevertheless.) But as long as our healthcare system functions on the basis of profit, they're not going to fulfill that wish. That's the elephant in the room, and Dean and Talbot describe it in great detail while still, somehow, managing to not quite see it.

Thanks to NetGalley and Steerforth for the ARC."