While perusing the virtual stacks of Shakespeare and Co., I was struck by the title of Rutger Bregman’s new book, warmed by the sweet-looking cover, and promptly placed it into my cart without another thought. I hadn’t heard or read anything about it. Weeks later, let’s say a month, having forgotten the specifics of my order it arrived on my desk with a thud. I cracked open Bregman’s hefty tome for a brief glimpse.

Normally, I am a fiction reader through and through. I read for intellectual stimulation, for the beauty of the written word and for feats of literary prowess, but above all I read to escape into another world. Be it real or imaginary. Nonfiction does not typically afford me the escape I crave so keenly, particularly in these times. But Humankind surprised me. It’s deceptively straightforward in style, yet completely engrossing. In fact, I had a hard time putting it down. At that first glimpse, I stood at my desk, box open and finished an entire chapter before I even unwrapped any of the other books. That is certainly one measure of excellence for any book, let alone a philosophical nonfiction treatise on positivity.

It is that thing it claims to be—hopeful—and optimism is not exactly the outlook du jour these days. Why is it that being hopeful or optimistic about the world, is seen as somehow lesser at the moment? From Machiavelli to Freud to the headlines at the newsstand,

Bregman is up against the status quo of what we’ve all been led to believe about our base instincts. By way of introduction, Rutger talks about the various responses from colleagues and friends to his writing a book on this topic, and how he was essentially laughed and scoffed at, in turn. In the book, the Dutch author dispels myth that mankind is essentially evil—debunking Stanford Prison Experiment, the Lord of the Flies premise, and through many other historical examples—argues that not only is it rational to believe that we humans are basically kind and compassionate by nature, but that it is a realistic and, indeed, essential belief.

Bregman proposes that we have an instinct to cooperate rather than compete and to trust rather than distrust. And he sets out to prove it, armed with examples encompassing the last 200,000 years of history. According to Bregman, “truly believing in kindness and altruism can change the way we think and lay a foundation for achieving true change in society.” Amidst a galaxy of cynicism, Bregman’s star shines brighter, challenging our view of humanity, and showing how dangerous it is to think the worst of others. If that isn’t a balm for these times, I’m not sure what is. ///