Being Well
A sporting life asks everything of you and then, one day, ends. This is what existential philosophy has to say about living that life well, on the field and long after you leave it.
Royalties go to the MND Association.
I spend my time figuring out what makes people, ideas, and living systems come alive, rather than fall apart.
For fifteen years, I did this in academia, researching and teaching how we learn and develop judgement. These days, I point philosophy at the life people are actually living.
The practice I run with my friend Dr David Priestley, for people whose decisions carry public consequences and private weight.
Notes and essays about what helps people and living systems come alive, or fall apart.
The ones with my name on the spine. I’m currently writing the sequel to The Syntropist.
Fifteen years of research into how people learn, reflect, and develop judgement.
Conversations about concepts that rarely fit into a meeting agenda.
When the thinking’s done, tunes. Not everything worth doing needs a thesis.
Some of my favourite thinkers, painted by me. None of them sat still for it.
Two out in the world, one on its way.
A sporting life asks everything of you and then, one day, ends. This is what existential philosophy has to say about living that life well, on the field and long after you leave it.
Royalties go to the MND Association.
In a grey city run by a machine that has forgotten its own purpose, a seventeen-year-old tinkerer pulls a living seed from the guts of a dead pump. It asks her the question no one in Vithra has been allowed to ask for three hundred years: what do you want to become?
Royalties go to Hospice at Home.
A people who can no longer die have nothing left to risk, and whatever risks nothing has quietly stopped living. The second Vithra novel is the story of a man who must learn that a life which can’t end isn’t a life that’s been saved.
I write at Syntropology, about what helps people and living systems come alive, or fall apart.
A forgotten Hungarian philosopher on imagination as a faculty for perceiving what is really there, rather than a machine for making things up.
Read →
Two traditions, separated by two thousand years and half a world, arriving at strikingly similar conclusions about letting things be what they are.
Read →
What a biologist working on metabolism understood about change, and why becoming anything at all costs more energy than we tend to admit.
Read →Alongside Syntropise I keep a small diary of one-to-one clients. They arrive with something worth thinking seriously about, and what they need is somewhere to think.
Somewhere they can think without being managed, diagnosed, flattered, optimised or quietly steered towards somebody else’s answer.
When the thinking’s done, tunes. Not everything worth doing needs a thesis.
Some of my favourite thinkers, painted by me. None of them sat still for it.
Lao Tzu
Philosophy doesn’t have to be humourless. Drag the top one away, or just tap it.
















