Dyson has very little to say here, and some of what he says is almost embarrassing. The rationale for this book is not at all clear, beyond the royalties. The whole thing is very poorly edited, and Dyson's writing sputters--a brilliant one-liner followed by a pointless anecdote which the reader can see coming a mile away. This is all style and no substance, and the style is nothing to write home about, either. I get the sense that this book was the brainchild of some literary agent or publishing house--the author just doesn't have anything much to say, and doesn't say it very well. Dyson has gifts, but seems to pour them out without much care. I have read all of his books, and this is the worst one. The consistent and avoidable flaws in Dyson's work is lack of research, reliance on rhetoric, and failure to polish the writing. This one appears to have been written in the airport lounge on the way to his next speaking gig.