Books I recommend

It is easy to get caught up in a business race: a competitor launches a service, so we need one too; they cut their prices, and we follow. Blue Ocean Strategy helps you pause and ask a more interesting question: what are customers actually missing? That shift in thinking alone makes the book worth reading.

I like its practical tools. Take the four questions about your product: what could you eliminate, reduce, raise or create? They sound simple, but try answering them honestly with your team. You soon discover how much you do out of habit and how many opportunities you overlook.

My advice is to keep your own project in mind as you read. The authors' ideas then become something you can discuss in relation to a real product. Of course, any promising idea still needs to be tested with customers. But first you have to spot it, and this book is excellent at helping you do that.

A packed calendar, dozens of problems solved, always busy. Yet by the evening it can be hard to remember which of those things actually mattered. Covey examines this trap well. He suggests first deciding what we want from life, then making choices around that.

The idea I value most is taking the time to understand the other person first. It sounds obvious. But how often do we listen while already preparing our reply? In a disagreement at work, a negotiation or a conversation with family, that habit can cost us dearly. Almost everyone has something to reflect on here.

This is a serious book, and the pace is sometimes slow. Give yourself time with it, without trying to adopt all seven habits at once. Sometimes noticing a familiar reaction and choosing a different response is enough. Those small but important changes are a good reason to read Covey.

"Only two places left." "Everyone is choosing this." "Recommended by an expert." Familiar lines that we think we have learned to recognise. Yet they keep working. Cialdini explains why in detail and makes you question just how immune you really are to these techniques.

What draws me in is how familiar the situations feel. As you read about reciprocity, authority, liking or scarcity, it is easy to picture an everyday purchase, a business meeting or an advertisement. You start to understand how people come to say yes, and why even sensible people sometimes make strange decisions.

This is a useful foundation for marketers, salespeople and managers. But I also recommend it to anyone who has nothing to sell. Knowing when to pause and ask yourself why you are agreeing is useful to everyone. At work, it pays to use these insights with care: trust is much easier to lose than to win back.

There is something frustrating about a company spending money to win a customer, then losing them through basic carelessness. No reply, a delay, being passed to another department. Sewell deals with exactly these situations, and I value the book for being so specific.

The author draws on his experience in the car business, but readers in any industry will recognise plenty of the examples. Good service needs things to work properly inside the company: clear rules, well-trained staff and the authority to solve a problem on the spot. Simply telling people to be polite to customers will only get you so far.

This is a good book for a whole management team to read and discuss. Where do we make things difficult for customers? Which promises do we keep only some of the time? What could employees handle themselves if we trusted them to? These conversations are easy to put off. The book gives you a good reason to finally have them.

What interests me most in Principles is the author's attitude to mistakes. Admitting you were wrong is uncomfortable, especially when you are responsible for the outcome and your team is watching. Dalio suggests going beyond the admission: understand the cause and work out a principle that will help you next time.

I would not accept every part of his approach to management without question. Radical transparency sounds convincing, for example, but in a real team so much depends on trust and how people speak to each other. Candour can easily become rudeness when you forget the person on the receiving end. I think reading Dalio with objections of your own is perfectly reasonable.

It is a substantial book, and there is no need to rush. I suggest paying attention to situations that resemble your own challenges. One simple question is particularly useful: can I explain why I am making this decision? Sometimes an honest answer already makes a difference.

Making big plans usually feels good. Following through on an ordinary Tuesday is harder, when you are tired, distracted and not in the mood for self-improvement. James Clear's book is written for that Tuesday. He explains how to make a useful action clear and manageable enough to become part of everyday life.

What appeals to me is how little heroism this approach requires. Get things ready in advance, start with a couple of minutes, attach a new action to an existing routine. None of it sounds particularly impressive. Yet these small details help you carry on once the initial enthusiasm has worn off.

There is quite a bit of repetition, but I find the book very practical. Pick one habit and try things as you read. Ten pages in the evening or a short stretch is a perfectly good start. There is real satisfaction in seeing a promise to yourself become something you actually do.

I enjoy how alive Delivering Happiness feels. Tony Hsieh writes about entrepreneurship with enthusiasm, without hiding the risks, mistakes and doubts. Behind the story of Zappos are people, personalities and choices. That makes it engaging even when you do not agree with every decision he makes.

I particularly like his attitude to service. Employees are given room to help a customer, show they care and do a little more than expected. For that to work, you have to take your team seriously: who you hire, what you teach them and the behaviour you encourage through your own example. Company culture becomes something you can actually see.

I recommend this book to leaders who are tired of hearing about values that never lead to anything. Hsieh gives you plenty to discuss and disagree with. He also reminds you how much energy people find when they care about what they are doing together. I would love to see more companies like that.

You can be busy all day and still feel empty. Or you can spend several hours wrestling with a difficult task and finish feeling satisfied, despite all the effort. Csikszentmihalyi explores exactly that difference. What interests me is his attention to the experience itself: how we feel while we live and work.

Flow needs a clear goal, feedback and a task that stretches us without being beyond our abilities. This offers a useful way to look at both our own work and the tasks we give our teams. Boredom is tiring too, and being constantly overwhelmed rarely brings much joy.

The title sounds academic, and the book does require concentration. But the question behind it is deeply human: how can we feel interested in what we do more often? I especially recommend it to anyone whose days are full but whose enjoyment of them is fading. It gives you a good reason to rethink at least part of your schedule.

Imagine inviting a Navy SEAL to live with you and voluntarily signing up for a month of his training. That is exactly what Jesse Itzler did. The clash between an entrepreneur's usual life and his new trainer's demands is tough, absurd and funny, often all at once. It makes for an entertaining story.

I like the way the book encourages you to be a little less certain about your own "I can't." Sometimes it really is a limit; sometimes it is simply a reluctance to put up with discomfort. Admitting the second possibility is not always pleasant. Itzler lets you look at it with humour, without an endless lecture.

I certainly would not recommend copying the workouts. But choosing one thing you have been putting off and finally getting started is another matter. This is a good book for when you have become a little too comfortable with your own excuses. It has the kind of energy that can help you get moving.

It is easy to give your morning to other people's priorities before breakfast: open your messages, check the news, start answering work questions. Sharma suggests setting aside time for movement, reflection and learning. There is a simple, appealing thought here: your own plans deserve a place in the diary too.

The ideas come wrapped in a story that can be rather preachy in places. I am more interested in the practical suggestions, especially the 20/20/20 formula: twenty minutes each for exercise, reflection and learning. It gives you a starting point that you can adapt to your own rhythm.

Getting up early is a personal choice, and I would not sacrifice sleep just to follow an impressive routine. What I like is the chance to begin the day calmly, knowing you have already done something good for yourself. If the book helps you find a morning ritual that lasts, it will have been time well spent.