Sometimes the space between tragedy and its inevitable descent into farce comes to be occupied by a well-timed history book. I bought a copy of This Time is Different (2009), Carmen Reinhart and Kenneth Rogoff’s history of financial crises, when it was released, as something of a consolation price for having lived through the latest crisis, but have not had the heart to read it even all these years later. I wonder if this experience is common to other readers, where intention parks itself at acquisition.

This time is different—though, somehow the same. It was heartening to hear Kara Swisher and Scott Galloway call out those yelling bank run in a crowded news cycle on the latest episode of their Pivot podcast. Galloway has since published an edition of his newsletter specifically condemning “venture catastrophists” for stoking panic last week. Here’s the line I admired most: “It’s no surprise a community of increasingly atomized individuals chose survivalism over citizenship.”

I very much enjoyed Hua Hsu’s recent review of conversation-themed books in the New Yorker but it left me wondering whether the influx of such books is a sign of hope or speaks to a passive publishing trend playing purely at cultural anthropology. Self-awareness is critical but nothing without action, after all.

The diagnosis is clear: we’re not just talking passed each other but preaching to the converted. As Hsu observes, “In the age of sophisticated psychographic profiling, strategists think that it’s rational for warring sides in a campaign to ‘write off’ those who are unlikely to join their cause and instead focus on mobilizing their base.”

Mel Brooks’s History of the World: Part II (the recent television sequel to the 1981 movie) proves that it is never too late to follow up, especially on a joke. Larry Willmore’s podcast interview with Ike Barinholtz was a great way to punctuate completing the brilliant series.