Aaron Freeman

Jordan Peterson’s Beyond Order: 12 More Rules for Life is a compelling follow-up to his previous bestseller, 12 Rules for Life: An Antidote to Chaos. If 12 Rules was about establishing order in a chaotic world, Beyond Order is a deeper dive into balancing that order without becoming overly rigid or dogmatic. Peterson’s approach is nuanced and intellectually stimulating, but it’s not without its challenges, both in content and tone.

In Beyond Order, Peterson presents twelve additional rules intended to help navigate life’s complexities. While the first book focused heavily on personal responsibility and self-discipline, this one shifts towards embracing the uncertainties of life. It encourages us to face the unknown and to find meaning in the struggle between order and chaos. This is a theme that can resonate with most people. Life, after all, is rarely just one thing or the other; it’s a constant interplay between stability and change. Peterson’s ability to articulate this balance is one of the book’s strongest points.

One of the rules that particularly stood out to me was Rule 2: “Imagine who you could be and then aim single-mindedly at that.” This rule is not just about setting goals; it’s about envisioning the highest possible good you can achieve and striving towards it with unwavering focus. Peterson’s insistence on the power of imagination as a tool for self-betterment is inspiring. He doesn’t shy away from the difficulty of this task; instead, he challenges the reader to engage in this process despite the inevitable struggles.

Another notable rule is Rule 10: “Plan and work diligently to maintain the romance in your relationship.” Here, Peterson addresses the importance of nurturing long-term relationships, emphasising that love is not just a feeling but a practice. This advice is both practical and profound, as it speaks to the effort required to sustain meaningful connections over time. Relationships, like everything else in life, require constant maintenance and attention, and Peterson’s insight into this dynamic is both refreshing and necessary.

However, while Peterson’s writing is undeniably intellectual, at times it’s challenging. The philosophical themes can feel heavy, and some readers may occasionally find themselves wishing for a bit more clarity and straightforwardness. Peterson’s tendency to delve into abstract concepts and detailed anecdotes can make the book feel like a mental workout, which might be off-putting for some. That said, for those willing to engage with the material fully, the rewards are significant.

One aspect of Beyond Order that I appreciate is its underlying optimism. Despite his reputation for tackling dark and difficult subjects, Peterson’s worldview is ultimately one of hope. He believes in the capacity of individuals to overcome adversity and to create meaning in their lives, even in the face of suffering. This message is particularly relevant in today’s world, where many people are grappling with uncertainty and fear. Peterson doesn’t offer easy solutions, but he does provide a framework for thinking about life’s challenges in a constructive way.

That being said, the book isn’t for everyone. If you’re looking for a quick self-help guide with simple answers, Beyond Order will likely frustrate you. Peterson asks his readers to think deeply and critically, to engage with difficult ideas, and to confront their own flaws and limitations. It’s a book that demands effort, but for those willing to put in the work, it can be incredibly rewarding.

All in all, Beyond Order: 12 More Rules for Life is a powerful continuation of the ideas Jordan Peterson introduced in his previous work. It’s a challenging read, both intellectually and emotionally, but it’s also a deeply enriching one. Peterson’s insights into the human condition are profound, and his advice, though sometimes difficult to digest, is ultimately practical and grounded in a deep understanding of life’s complexities. For those who are ready to engage with its ideas, Beyond Order offers valuable guidance on how to navigate the often-turbulent waters of existence.

When I first picked up Recovery: Freedom From Our Addictions by Russell Brand, I wasn’t entirely sure what to expect. Brand, although known for his eccentric comedic style and outspoken political views, was also a long-time recovered addict. I was pleasantly surprised by the depth of insight and raw honesty that this book offers. Far from a mere celebrity memoir, Recovery is a genuine and heartfelt self-help guide for anyone struggling with addiction, or even those seeking a more meaningful life.

One of the first things that struck me about Brand’s approach is his unapologetic embrace of the 12-step program. The 12-step recovery program, traditionally associated with Alcoholics Anonymous, has been both celebrated and criticised over the years. Brand, who has been sober since 2002, doesn’t shy away from its spiritual components, which might put off some readers. However, he reinterprets these steps in a way that feels accessible and relevant, even to those who might not consider themselves religious.

Brand’s writing style is, as one might expect, a blend of humour, irreverence, and sincerity. He takes what could be a heavy and sombre subject and infuses it with wit and lightness, without undermining the seriousness of the topic. For example, in discussing Step One, which involves admitting powerlessness over addiction, Brand compares it to the experience of trying to resist eating a chocolate bar, which can be an addiction in itself.

What I appreciate most about Recovery is Brand’s refusal to present himself as an expert or guru. He doesn’t claim to have all the answers, and he’s refreshingly honest about his own ongoing struggles. This humility makes the book feel like a conversation rather than a lecture. Brand often reminds the reader that he’s simply someone who has found a path that works for him, and he’s eager to share it in the hope that it might help others.

Another strength of the book is its universal applicability. While it is clearly about overcoming addiction—whether that be to drugs, alcohol, food, or even technology—Brand’s message goes beyond traditional definitions of addiction. He argues that we all have our addictions, be it to material success, unhealthy relationships, or societal approval. In this way, Recovery is a book for everyone, not just those who are gripped by a substance addiction. It’s about identifying the unhealthy patterns in our lives and taking active steps to change them.

Brand’s ability to distil complex psychological and spiritual concepts into digestible, practical advice is another of the book’s key strengths. For example, in discussing the idea of a “higher power” (a core component of the 12-step program), Brand suggests that it doesn’t have to be a traditional deity. It could be something as simple as the collective wisdom of the recovery community or the natural world. This openness and flexibility make the book more inclusive and less dogmatic.

At times, Brand’s tangential style and penchant for digressions may be overwhelming for some. His tendency to jump from one topic to another can make the narrative feel scattered at times. Yet, this also reflects Brand’s unique voice and personality—chaotic, passionate, and deeply human. Some readers might find it challenging, but others might see it as part of the book’s charm.

In the end, Recovery: Freedom From Our Addictions is a powerful, unconventional guide to overcoming addiction and living a more meaningful life. Russell Brand’s blend of humour, vulnerability, and wisdom makes for an engaging and inspiring read. Whether you’re struggling with addiction yourself, know someone who is, or are simply looking for a new perspective on personal growth, this book has something valuable to offer. Brand doesn’t pretend to have all the answers, but he provides a roadmap that is both practical and profoundly hopeful.

Kathryn and Ross Petras’s Don’t Forget to Sing in the Lifeboats is an inspiring collection of quotations that feels like a much-needed daily go-to when navigating everyday life. As someone who finds comfort in wise, insightful and sometimes witty idioms, I was drawn to what this book had to offer, and after each time I picked it up, I felt uplifted, entertained, and more resilient.

The book’s premise is simple: a collection of quotes from famous thinkers, writers, leaders, and artists, all centred around the theme of surviving adversity with grace and humour. This isn’t just a compilation of inspirational platitudes. The Petras siblings did an excellent job curating a diverse and meaningful range of quotes that provide clarity and encourage perseverance. The title itself is based on a quote by Voltaire, and it perfectly encapsulates the tone of the book: even when life feels overwhelming, there’s always a different perspective we can embody, even one born of irony.

What I love most about this collection is its balance of practical wisdom and light-heartedness. Some may find similar books feel too dense or overly sentimental, but this one strikes a great balance. The quotes range from deeply philosophical musings to quick quips that’ll make you chuckle. There’s advice here for everyone, whether you’re looking for something profound to reflect on or a brief laugh to ease your stress. In many ways, the book feels like a reminder to take a step back, breathe, and find perspective even in the most difficult of moments.

One of my favourite quotes in the book comes from Walt Disney: “You may not realise it when it happens, but a kick in the teeth may be the best thing in the world for you.” To me, this quote speaks to the idea that setbacks, failures, or harsh experiences can often lead to significant growth, learning, and ultimately, success—even if it’s not immediately apparent. Often, when something goes wrong and we face rejection or failure, it pushes us to reconsider our approach, work harder, or take a different path. In the moment, it might feel like a setback, but over time, these challenges can lead to personal growth or open doors to opportunities we wouldn’t have otherwise explored.

There’s a lot to be said for the structure of the book, too. The quotes are tagged with thematic labels that help guide you through different aspects of adversity, from fear and failure to courage and perseverance. This structure allows the reader to dip in and out depending on their current needs or mood, making it a great book to keep by your bed or even when you’re out and about. It’s a small, but chunky book, so carrying it isn’t much of an inconvenience.

If I had to point out any downside, it’s that the format, by its nature, doesn’t allow for much depth. These are quotes, after all, so they’re brief by design. While that makes the book easy to digest, it can sometimes feel like you’re left wanting more—more explanation, more context, more personal insight. However, I don’t see this as a major flaw since the book isn’t intended to be a deep philosophical text; it’s a pick-me-up, something to skim when you need a burst of positivity.

The illustrations scattered throughout the book are a nice touch. They’re simple and charming, and provide a creative complement to the text every so often. Sometimes it’s helpful to aid interpretation with visual representation, and although it’s subtle, this book does it well.

To summarise, Don’t Forget to Sing in the Lifeboats is a lovely little book filled with pearls of wisdom, both deep and humorous. I found it to be soothing and stimulating. It’s a great antidote to the stress and chaos that life often throws our way. Whether you’re going through a difficult time or simply looking for a few words to brighten your day, this collection will likely have something for you. The Petras siblings have done an excellent job of compiling words that remind us of our resilience and offer perspectives of various forms.

Reading Reasons to Stay Alive by Matt Haig felt like sitting down with a compassionate friend who understands the deepest corners of despair yet also offers an unwavering sense of hope. It’s not your typical self-help book—there are no neat tips or steps to overcome depression. Instead, it’s raw, honest, and deeply personal, making it feel much more like a conversation about survival and healing.

Haig doesn’t shy away from the terrifying reality of depression and anxiety. Early in the book, he describes his own experience with mental illness, which hit him hard in his mid-twenties. He recounts the days when he felt that life was too painful to live, when anxiety and panic were suffocating, and when suicide seemed like the only escape. It’s this unfiltered honesty that makes the book so powerful.

But what I appreciated most about Reasons to Stay Alive is how Haig balances the extremes. As much as he delves into his struggle, he also holds up the small moments that kept him going. The title itself is a promise that there are reasons to stay alive, even when it feels impossible to believe in them. One of the core messages that stuck with me is that pain and joy can coexist. Haig doesn’t pretend that everything suddenly gets better or that there’s a quick fix for mental illness. Instead, he shows that it’s possible to live alongside it, to endure the bad days, and to embrace the good ones when they come.

What I found particularly moving was Haig’s reflections on time. He emphasises how crucial it is to wait through the hard moments, even when they seem unbearable. His concept that “things will change” is both comforting and empowering. He writes about how, at his lowest point, he couldn’t see a future where he would be okay. And yet, he stands as living proof that those feelings, as consuming as they are, can be temporary. That’s one of the most important takeaways of the book: that time does heal, even if slowly and imperfectly.

Haig’s style is very approachable. The book is written in short, digestible sections that jump between past and present, between prose and lists, and from fact to personal insight. I loved this format because it mirrors how mental illness can feel—fragmented, disjointed, and chaotic. Yet despite the structure, there’s a clear thread of hope woven throughout the narrative. One moment you’re reading a list of reasons to stay alive, the next you’re learning about famous people who suffered from depression, and then suddenly, you’re back in Haig’s head as he recounts his darkest times. The variety keeps the pace moving and makes it easy to pick up and put down, which I imagine is important for many readers who might be struggling themselves.

At times, the book can feel repetitive, and there were moments when I wished Haig dug a little deeper into some topics. For example, while he touches on the impact of depression on his relationships, he doesn’t explore this as deeply as I would have liked. I wanted to know more about how his loved ones supported him (or didn’t) during those dark periods. However, I also understand that this book is more about the individual experience of mental illness than it is about those around us.

Ultimately, Reasons to Stay Alive is not a manual for “fixing” depression. It’s a testament to survival. It’s a book that says, “I’ve been there, and I’m still here.” And sometimes, that’s the message people need most. For anyone who has battled with mental illness or knows someone who has, this book feels like a lifeline. It doesn’t sugarcoat the pain, but it also doesn’t let you sink into it without offering a handout. Matt Haig’s vulnerability is a reminder that none of us are truly alone in our struggles and that in itself is reason enough for most.