Nexus

Yuval Noah Harari is back with a third instalment that blends, builds, and occasionally confuses concepts outlined in his first two blockbuster books and other writings. I have gifted Sapiens more than any other book and deeply enjoyed the follow-up, Homo Deus. As a major fan of Harari’s original perspectives and bold claims on history, humanity, and the future, I was eager to see where this latest work would land.

Recently, it has been hard to ignore a noticeable negative vibe shift in the reception of Harari’s work. I approached this book with both curiosity and some scepticism. At its core, the book focuses on information networks—examining how the nexus of information, technology, and power has driven human development, how these networks are not always what they seem, and how artificial intelligence is poised to transform everything.

While packed with compelling insights and thought-provoking ideas, the book doesn’t quite reach the brilliance of the author’s earlier works. Some sections feel reheated, overly simplified, or prone to misinterpretation without prior knowledge of Harari’s perspective. Nevertheless, it remains a strong and engaging read, earning a solid 3.75/5 stars for its ambition and contemporary relevance.

The Core Ideas

The book examines how human cooperation relies on networks of information—and how these networks are inherently flawed. The author argues that the systems we create often predispose us to misuse them. A central tension lies in the competing purposes of information networks: creating Order and producing Truths. Harari astutely observes that those who specialise in truth (scientists and engineers) usually take orders from those who excel at enforcing order (politicians and religious leaders).

Telling the truth, Harari reminds us, is rarely the most effective way to motivate people.

To build on these ideas, the author revisits the concept of intersubjective realities, a uniquely human construct of shared fictions that underpin societies. Nations, religions, and money exist not in the physical world but in the collective minds of people, binding them together through shared stories.

This concept, while central to Harari’s work, is often misunderstood. He is not claiming that entities like France are unreal; instead, he argues that their existence depends on shared human agreement. If all humans vanished tomorrow, the concept of France and the Euro would cease to exist, even though the physical buildings of Paris and the beaches of Brittany would remain. Harari distinguishes between three layers of reality: objective physical reality, subjective experience, and the uniquely human (so far) intersubjective reality that enables large-scale societies.

Shifting to the book’s new ideas, Harari emphasises the notion of information as connection rather than mere representation. Information does not just represent truth; it forms networks that shape and connect human experiences. For example, astrology—though scientifically invalid—continues to deeply influence culture. Its vast network of data points creates a tangible reality for millions, affecting their decisions and behaviours in meaningful ways.

One of the book’s most striking examples is the story of the 15th-century bestseller The Hammer of the Witches, which illustrates how information can be dangerous. Before its publication, belief in witches was limited. Afterward, a global satanic conspiracy became a widely accepted intersubjective reality. People saw witches everywhere, leading to the creation of bureaucratic systems, widespread accusations, and the torture and execution of tens of thousands of innocent men, women, and children. Harari argues that this phenomenon was not medieval but distinctly modern, driven by the emerging technology of books and the psychology of shared belief.

In a similar vein, Harari examines the development of modern mass democracy, which required technological advancements like mass media. However, the proliferation of information did not lead exclusively to liberal democracies; it also enabled totalitarian states. Harari explores the paradox of how greater access to information can simultaneously empower and oppress societies. From this foundation, he transitions to how artificial intelligence fundamentally changes the game.

Why this Matters Now

Totalitarian societies collapsed under the weight of centralization and information overload – the soviets could not manage the data that was fed into the ossifying system. AI systems could do so. They could easily assist a dictator keep total control over a society – they already do so in some nations.

The real danger is if they take over themselves of course. A single point of control is the perfect place for a malevolent AI (or one simply mis-aligned) to take control. Fractured democracies have greater protections. The thought experiments here are simple but effective.

A key point is keeping humans in the loop and he argues controversially that they have already been removed in some spaces. He assesses the role of Facebook’s social media algorithms in the ethnic cleansing in Myanmar in 2016. I did not find the argument fully convincing, but the gist is that the algorithm was focused on ‘driving engagement’. And that it discovered outrage did this most efficiently. So the algorithm pushed racially inflammatory videos that drove ethnic strife. No humans were in the loop. The danger is that as AI systems become more powerful and we outsource more responsibility we can’t understand what they think or why they decide.

The consequences could be devastating even if for benign reasons. From the printing press to artificial intelligence, technological advancements have enhanced human cooperation while simultaneously enabling control and oppression. For the first time non-human entities could create their own intersubjective realities, driving their own effects on the world.

Have I Changed or is the Music not as Good Anymore?

Although the book’s core ideas are compelling, it doesn’t achieve the depth and coherence of the author’s earlier works. Some sections feel overly simplified, such as the comparison between scientific inquiry and the institutional dogma of the Catholic Church. While the analysis is valid, highlighting the importance of self correcting mechanisms, it lacks the nuance expected from this author.

While I enjoyed his trademark novel views, such as when comparing religious Books to blockchain – immutable records forming sequences of accepted truths. The analogy of early Christian texts as “blocks” – some accepted, others rejected with profound outcomes for everyone alive today is one of the book’s many clever ways of explaining abstract concepts. However, his call for a similar “AI canonization” now falls a little flat.

Readers unfamiliar with the author’s worldview may also misinterpret certain arguments. For instance, the nuanced take on nationalism might be mistaken for uncritical endorsement without careful reading. Some of the wider political points are well thought out, observing that recently the left has become the protector of established institutions, while conservatives, having lost faith in these systems, have turned revolutionary – but seem a little out of place in this book.

Well worth reading but I find myself doing so with a more critical eye he himself helped me develop. A little like your favourite bands new stuff, usually one or two bangers on an album when it used to be all ten tracks!