The Future of The Self by Joanna Nadin #BookReview #BlogTour

 

Look in the mirror – what do you see? We all feel, instinctively, that self exists. That somewhere inside us, under the clothes, the make-up and self-tan, lurks a hard ‘pearl’, a kernel of truth called ‘me’. And it’s big business uncovering that ‘authentic’ kernel. It’s also a fool’s errand, because that ‘true self’? It doesn’t exist. Self is no more than a story we tell ourselves. It’s mutable, pliable as Plasticine. Worse, it’s not even strictly autobiographical, but co-authored with those around us. And as such, there is no one version, but myriad, and the number is growing as we are exposed to ever more connections. We are already seeing the effects travel, television, and celebrity culture can have on the formation of self, but as digital and social media exposure grows, and in the advent of AI, what will happen to our sense of self? Can we become ever more multiple and adapt better to our globalised world? Or will we dissolve into narcissistic, detached ‘nobodies’? The Future of the Self will explore our current understanding of self in both philosophical and neuroscientific terms and through the lens of popular culture. It will ask what might happen to it in the coming years, and what a ‘useful self’ might look like in the future.

It's my pleasure to be taking part in the blog tour for The Future of the Self by Joanna Nadin today. Many thanks to Nikki Griffiths from Melville House for inviting me and for sending me a copy of the book.

I really enjoyed The Future of Trust by Ros Taylor, one of the first books released in Melville House's impressive new Futures series and so was delighted to be given the opportunity to read The Future of The Self by Joanna Nadin. Joanna tells  us at the beginning of the book that she isn't a psychologist, neuroscientist or philosopher. She does, however, have a PhD in the nature of the self, albeit in relation to YA literature. Drawing on her own experiences, as well as referring to research and quoting from both science and literature, this relatively short book is an informative and thought-provoking read. 

Joanne Nadin recalls her youthful obsession to find her 'self' at the start of The Future of the Self, remembering how she donned the mantles of the Malory Towers inhabitants before moving on to Dickens and De Maurier, and then imagining herself on the silver screen – as Andie in Pretty in Pink, Baby in Dirty Dancing or various characters from Mystic Pizza. It immediately sets the tone for the book, which examines some challenging topics but remains witty, engaging and relatable (at least to this 70s born reader!) throughout. 

She quickly rejects the idea of the 'one true self', comparing our bodies to a walking, talking Ship of Theseus and Fleetwood Mac, before going on to explain that even if we look and think the same, despite the constant changes we undergo, there is no pearl of self nestled in our brains. Self, Joanna Nadin argues, isn't a monologue and instead, is a construction formed through our interactions with others. As the book progresses, she looks first at a dystopian view of the future self,

'in which the self (spoiler alert) becomes a flaccid, parasitic, narcissistic 'nobody''.

She references social psychologist Kenneth Gergen's early 1990s thesis on the 'saturated self', explaining that,

'Our identity is now more haphazard patchwork than well-defined self-portrait. And the cause? Technological progress.' 

While the earlier stages in the saturation process are all important – rail expansion, car ownership, air travel, the invention of the telephone and radio, the rise of the film and television industry, and the advent of cheap paperbacks – it's electronic communication which is most important. Now more likely than ever before to be influenced by people we've never met, including fictional characters, our future selves may experience 'identify diffusion'  – a lack of stability or focus in the self. 

Joanna Nadin goes on to consider our social media addiction, including the increasing polarisation of opinions as learning algorithms prioritise higher engagement and the shocking drop in our attention spans in just a few years. The future she postulates here is bleak and within time, we risk the machines taking over, leading to her rather chilling exploration of what AI may eventually take over  – not just our creative output but our entire decision making processes.

Thank goodness, therefore, that she also puts forward a more utopian future for the self too. Here, we learn to recognise self for what it is,

'pliable, and inextricably connected to others'

This version of our future self will be able to reject our birth circumstances, genetic inheritance and assigned genders. Although for some, this fakery is cause for concern, she suggests that we can learn to embrace adaptation and be empowered by our ability to change. Eventually, by accepting that the singular self is an illusion, we may grow to believe that we are all connected, ‘recognising ourselves as threads in the tapestry.’

Joanna Nadin isn't scared to present some more provocative topics too, most notably looking at whether microdosing with psychedelics could prove to be beneficial to humanity as a whole. The research throughout is robust; whether she is explaining how our brains function, scientific or societal change, or discussing various theories posited. The Future of The Self then is an intelligent, accessible and thoroughly entertaining read. I highly recommend it.


The Future of The Self is published by Melville House Publishing. It can be purchased from bookshop.org, Hive, WaterstonesAmazon or ordered from your bookshop of choice.


Follow the blog tour, details are below.


Check out the current list of Futures titles and keep a look out for further additions to the series, including The Future of Egyptology and The Future of the Novel.


About the Author
A former broadcast journalist and special adviser to the prime minister, since leaving politics I’ve written more than 90 books for children and adults, for publishers including Bloomsbury, OUP and Little Brown; speeches for CEOs and politicians from the Trade Secretary to the Chair of the Civil Aviation Authority; and articles for newspapers and magazines including The Guardian, Red and The Amorist. I hold a doctorate in adolescent identity and YA literature, and am an Associate Professor in Creative Writing at the University of Bristol.

I’m a winner of the Fantastic Book Award and the Surrey Book Award, have been shortlisted for the Roald Dahl Funny Prize, the Booktrust Best Book award, the Little Rebels Award, the Telegraph Sports Book of the Year, the Hearst Big Book Awards, and Queen of Teen among many others, and nominated for the Carnegie Medal four times: for Everybody Hurts, No Man’s Land, A Calamity of Mannerings, and for Joe All Alone, which is now a BAFTA-winning and Emmy-nominated BBC drama series. The Worst Class in the World in Danger was a World Book Day book for 2002 and a Sunday Times no 1. bestseller. I’ve also worked with Sir Chris Hoy on the bestselling Flying Fergus series, and ghost-written Angry Birds under another name.

I like London, New York, Essex, tea, cake, Marmite, mint imperials, prom dresses, pubs, that bit in the West Wing where Donna tells Josh she wouldn’t stop for a red light if he was in an accident, junk shops, crisps, Cornwall, St Custard’s, Portuguese custard tarts, political geeks, pin-up swimsuits, the Regency, high heels, horses, old songs, my Grandma’s fur coat, vinyl, liner notes, the smell of old books, the feel of a velveteen monkey, Guinness, quiffs, putting my hand in a bin of chicken feed, the 1950s, burlesque, automata, fiddles, flaneuring, gigs in fields on warm summer nights, Bath, the bath.



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