The Power of Habit by Charles Duhigg

Technically I haven’t finished reading this, but I reached the appendix and the notes, so I’m going to discuss my thoughts on this book today. When I picked this up, it was kind of on a whim. The title caught my eye at the store, and the yellow grabbed me, too. I’ve been struggling with personal habits lately, so I thought this would be an interesting perspective to read through. I was right. This book is incredibly readable. Typically when I grab non-fiction, I struggle to read it because it’s very factual and very thoroughly researched (hopefully, anyway). That’s not to say this isn’t well researched or full of facts, because it is that, but Duhigg approaches it from a reader perspective. Something I feel non-fiction writers tend to forget is how to appeal to readers of all genres and types. They get caught up in the truth they’re telling and the presentation is much like a lecture hall PowerPoint by someone at the end of their career and they’re waiting for retirement.

This is not the case for Duhigg. He starts with a story of a man with short term memory loss who can’t tell you where he lives, but he can go on a walk at 2 pm every day and still end up at home without knowing why. There are several intriguing studies presented throughout the book that made me realize I know very little about my own brain. He goes through how Febreeze became a household name, and how stores can predict your buying habits by going through your purchases when you scan your rewards cards. Something stores may not want put in the public eye, but while that’s creepy, it’s also incredibly fascinating.

The first part of the book focuses on individual habits, why we do what we do (which is the sub-title of the book). We create what’s called a “habit loop,” which consists of three parts: a cue, a routine, and a reward. As we receive the same cue, then follow the same routine, and expect the same reward, a habit is formed. This is true for negative habits, too, which makes sense because even though we don’t typically think of the negative outcomes as rewards, they become ingrained as part of the routine, so we follow them. Sometimes unwittingly.

I’m not saying this book has changed my life completely, because I still have habits I consider unhelpful to the person I want to be, but it’s certainly opened my mind to a new realm of understanding. One of the key factors in habit change is belief. Duhigg uses the coaching style of Tony Dungy to approach the topic of belief and he talks about how no matter what Dungy did, the teams would revert back to their old habits in times of stress simply because their belief in the new ways faltered. This is honestly the stage of change I struggle with the most.

This last year I’ve been trying to revamp my thought processes–before I read this book, even more so now–and the process has been almost excruciating. I’ve spent almost 2 decades hating myself, and trying to switch gears and think differently feels like an impossible thing. But that’s the thing about it all. It isn’t impossible because I’m doing it in small ways here and there. I’ve talked about how my depression manifests itself as dishes to wash and laundry I move from hamper to mattress back to hamper. Well it still does, but not as badly. My dishes are never more than a few days left unwashed, and I fold my laundry within a day of doing it. I don’t know specifically what changed my brain to do this, but somehow I’ve convinced my depressive side that this is unacceptable and there needs to be something different we do when I get caught up in my head for too long.

I think this book is worth a read if you’re interested in habits, but I don’t think it’s a book everyone should read. Some people are living their best lives and have no need to go this far into their own heads. I give this book an 8/10.

********I read the 2014 Randomhouse Trade Paperback edition*******

The Invention of Murder by Judith Flanders

Anyone who knows me will be able to attest to my somewhat morbid fascination with true crime stories. I used to fall asleep to Forensic Files before Netflix did something weird with their auto play function. So, when I first came across this book, The Invention of Murder, I was pretty stoked. I’ve been interested in how modern detecting came to be, and so I hoped this book would go into that as well as go through how murder became more mainstream.

I wish I could explain how disappointing this book was to me. There’s murder, yes. But it’s sprinkled between a discussion about newspaper articles, broadsides, penny dreadfuls, melodramas/theatrical performances, and every now and then novels. I understand what Ms. Flanders was attempting to do. By showing such a vast range of media produced for the public, it showed how the Victorians became enraptured with death and crime. But all it really did was bore me.

What time was spent on discussing the actual cases was well written, and I enjoyed those parts entirely, which is why I’m even putting this book up here for review at all. It’s clear the research that went into this book was insurmountable, and I don’t envy the author such a task. I think it could have been presented differently. Especially in today’s world where everyone and their Netflix budget is producing a crime documentary. I think the book is not as timeless as it could have been because it was published in 2011, a bit before the explosion of in-depth documentary series about modern day crime. There’s a show (Murder Maps) that mentions several of the cases brought up in The Invention of Murder, something I only drew connections to because I’d just read about the case.

It is certainly an interesting look at how mass produced media and “up to the moment” reporting on trials brought murder into the forefront of crime. With the advent of detective units within police departments (something that was created later than I thought), the public could see firsthand how the investigations were going. The newspapers also presented problems if the cases weren’t progressing to the satisfaction of the editors. In that respect, I appreciate the book for thoroughly showing evidence to support the notion the Victorians were the ones who elevated crime and detection.

I think in terms of enjoyment, I hyped it up too much for myself. I started reading it in August 2020, and I finished it this last week, with reading other books between. Usually when I take so long to read a book, it’s because I want to savor it, to follow it at a leisurely pace. The same could not be said for The Invention of Murder. I think it was about 100 pages too long, and the amount of references could have been lessened and the impact would not have suffered. The back of the book blurb hints at what’s inside, but gives it more of a narrative, something that disappears in the pages of examples of articles, stories, and so on.

I feel like this sounds unduly harsh, and if it does, that’s not my intention. I think it’s important to be honest in reviews especially when a lot of the “influencer” world is based solely on promotion. (I’m not saying I’m an influencer, hah, not by any stretch of any imagination) I know I didn’t like it, but it may not be the same for other readers. In fact, by the quotes in the “praise” sections, several people did enjoy it.

All in all, I appreciate the work Judith Flanders put into this, and I appreciate the approach she took to present a timeline of how sensationalized murder came to be.

I give this book a 4/10

*******I read the 2011 Thomas Dunne Books paperback edition*******