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The best popular science books to look forward to in 2025

Understanding why we think the way we do is a hot topic for many of 2025’s books – that and finding new ways to re-evaluate old “truths”, says Simon Ing
Woman in her late 30s reading a book in the mountain cabin, relaxing in the hammock next to the fireplace.
The weather outside may be frightful but the new books inside are delighful
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An Increasingly divisive politics. Media technologies that reinforce and radicalise every fleeting opinion. An absolute tsunami of conspiracy theories.

Out of the noise and anxiety of our current moment comes a slew of new books that may make 2025 the moment humanity turned a corner, and replaced the heat of partisanship and tribalism with enlightened discourse and real debate. Many of them explain why we think the way we do about the world, and show us how we can change our minds without losing them in the process. They are informed by new and freshly interpreted data, and sometimes showcase years of original study.

Joe Pierre’s (Oxford University Press, June) is the most direct of them: a decades-in-the-making examination of rule-of-thumb thinking (without which we couldn’t function) and how it necessarily gives rise to a long list of demons – think cognitive bias, cognitive dissonance and much more. So the Enlightenment idea of a life lived according to the dictates of reason isn’t wrong exactly, but we have to be realistic about how our minds actually work.

What we absolutely cannot afford to do is to stop thinking, in the fond hope that we can simply “follow the data”. (W. H. Allen, January) by data journalist Kiko Llaneras makes this point very well, while still being a refreshingly positive take on number and measurement. The trick to thinking with data is to stop taking the stuff on trust, and start learning how to use it. Practical tools and shortcuts make this a compelling, intellectual self-help book.

The more we understand just why we disagree, the calmer our discourse becomes

For those who want a deeper take on our relationship with data, here are two promising new books. (Princeton University Press, April) leverages author Diane Coyle’s work in public policy to argue that, as societies change their character, the kind of data they collect must also change. For example, gross domestic product (GDP) was an excellent index of societal health in the 1940s. Assuming it works as well now is just lazy.

Maja Bak Herrie, meanwhile, is interested in how we perceive, and misperceive, even the most appropriate data. (Stanford University Press, March) shows how visualising data triggers all sorts of aesthetic biases. A picture may be worth a thousand words, but the truth buried in that picture is still hard to get at.

In (Profile Books, March), Adam Kucharski explains why getting at the truth of just about anything is incredibly hard. There’s fascinating technical detail here, and a moral: the more we appreciate how hard proof is to come by, the better we can bridge the widening gulf between experts and sceptics. To put this another way: the more we understand just why we disagree, the calmer our discourse becomes.

In that spirit, dyed-in-the-wool atheists really should have a look at (Oneworld, January) by the Christian apologist Alister McGrath. Accepting the unknown isn’t a failure of rational thought, he says, but an existential necessity. Cynics may well say that he is riding psychology’s coat-tails to slip one by us; this atheist isn’t so sure.

By the way, did the mention of that last book – which argues that believing without evidence isn’t at all a bad thing – evoke your scepticism? Fair enough. Did it raise your hackles, or even offend you? Then you may be suffering from cognitive rigidity.

Two of next year’s books hammer home the obvious but oh-so-welcome point that it doesn’t matter nearly so much what you believe as how you believe it. Paul Dolan’s (The Bridge Street Press, May) gives the lie to the idea that fixed beliefs are our only defence against witless credulity. Truths are complex, and this means that those who disagree with us are almost certain to be right about something. What we need, and rather desperately, is a return to ideas of citizenship that value agreement.

The neuroscientist (of politics) Leor Zmigrod brings fascinating original experimental work to bear here in (Viking, March). For instance, she demonstrates how a simple card-sorting game can reveal one’s entire approach to life: struggling to adapt to new rules in such tasks apparently mirrors the rigidity with which you hang onto social and political ideologies. We can all try to be more flexible, but some of us are more susceptible to dogmatic thinking. If I had to pick one, Zmigrod’s would be my book to watch out for in 2025.

Of course, it may help to remember that the brain itself is a hypothesis generator. After all, if we couldn’t imagine, we wouldn’t perceive anything. In (Bloomsbury Circus, January), neurologist Adam Zeman reveals just how radically different we all are, even as we reach common conclusions about a shared world. Pria Anand explores similar territory through an account of her clinical practice. In (Virago, June), she shares the strangeness and sheer wonder of our brains in a testament to the wildness inside us all.

Elsewhere, Ciara Greene and Gillian Murphy’s (Princeton University Press, March) shows how we use our brains for things they weren’t necessarily evolved for, and argues that maintaining mental stability is more of a communal effort than we like to admit. Indeed, other people actually keep us healthy – they are our best medicine, says Nicole Karlis in (University of California Press, March), a powerful reminder of the importance and power of connection in crisis-filled times.

From rocks to hard places

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What we create depends on what we can extract from Earth. Philip Marsden’s (Granta, February) turns this plain proposition into a tale of struggle, innovation and the odd catastrophe.

But some of these materials come from space: the earliest iron artefacts were smelted from meteorites. New Scientist‘s Joshua Howgego’s (Oneworld, February) tells the stories of the world’s best meteorite hunters and reveals what we can learn about the history of the solar system from their findings. Astronomer Govert Schilling is more interested in the space rocks hurtling towards us in (The MIT Press, April).

But let’s not forget how Earth is holding up right now. Friederike Otto’s (Greystone Books, May) looks at the impact of extreme weather on the world’s most vulnerable, while Mike Berners-Lee’s (Cambridge University Press, March) explores why, when we have most of the technology we need to combat the climate crisis, we still aren’t doing enough.

Smothered mothers

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It is no secret that one of the least tolerable aspects of motherhood is other people’s expert advice.

Two books bravely hack away at this ever-burgeoning thicket of good counsel. Alex Bollen’s (Verso, March) explains how hoary, old, nature-versus-nurture cliches have stuck mothers in a place where they can do no right. And Hannah Zeavin’s (The MIT Press, April) shows how the technology that is supposed to help makes this even worse.

Browbeaten and exasperated by all that oh-so-helpful guidance, a pregnant Helen Jukes turned to the natural world for solace.

(Elliott & Thompson, February) is her evidenced, coherent and passionate plea to revalue and celebrate motherhood in the light of how the whole process works in the real world.

Anna Blix’s (Hachette, March) is a perfect companion to Jukes’s work. It is also built around the author’s pregnancy, but this book is altogether more wild and wonderful in its scope.

Evolution and other relationships

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Foundational theories say little about how living things evolve other than by natural selection. John Damuth and Lev Ginzburg’s heavyweight (University of Chicago Press, July) is a rare journey into a different and important force at work beyond the individual level.

Sophie Pavelle’s (Bloomsbury Wildlife, May) spins symbiosis for the lay reader, while our relationship with plants in particular is the focus of Robert Spengler’s (University of California Press, May).

Robert Macfarlane’s (Hamish Hamilton, May) explores the idea that a river can be a living being, answering the question of its title with a resounding affirmative.

In (University of Chicago Press, May), Liz Kalaugher reveals the risks when we run roughshod over ecologies we don’t fully understand.

And Nature’s Genius (Canongate, May) by David Farrier argues that one day we will not only understand ecologies, but will be able to assemble them.

Simon Ings is a writer and critic based in London. He writes New Scientist’s film column

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