Adrian Tchaikovsky, Green City Wars. Tor Publishing Group. 2026. ISBN: 978-1-250-29033-5. $28.99.

I follow Adrian Tchaikovsky on Bluesky so I’d preordered Green City Wars months in advance. I’m certain I would have picked it up if I’d spotted it on the New Fiction table at Powell’s, though. The outstanding cover designed by Shreya Gupta and executed by Chris Koehler catches the eye immediately. Raccoon in a fedora moving in silhouette across a nighttime cityscape? Count me in.

Skotch, the raccoon in question, has augmented intelligence and physical skills. He received that treatment to make him one of the Little Helpers, the army of animals that do the grunt work of bussing tables, collecting trash, and maintaining the infrastructure of a near-future city Neuwie, the reconstituted Vienna, Austria. The Little Helpers are managed by Uzco and, as long as they remain in good standing they receive regular doses of Plangent. Going without means their intelligence swiftly disappears.

Not a good fit for the corporate life, Skotch has gone freelance as a private investigator. And with freelancing being what it is, he faces regular shortages of both buttons (currency) and Plangent. Those shortages give his former employer Uzco the leverage to convince our raccoon PI to find an augmented mouse.

In Neuwien, mice are at the bottom of the Little Helper social hierarchy and used as the baseline for Mausgelt, the number of buttons one must pay to wipe the slate clean after a death. A mouse is worth one Mausgelt, meaning that if you kill a mouse you can pay one button to have the offended party, whether family, clan, or corporation, set the matter aside. The mouse in question is special, of course, and multiple parties want to lay their paws on him. Skotch’s job is to manage those opposing forces while saving the mouse and his own pelt.

Tchaikovsky builds an intriguing world with sly references to Flowers for Algernon, dramas such as Downton Abbey and Upstairs/Downstairs, and science fiction classics from the 1970s that I don’t want to spoil for you. His commentary on the plight of the serving class through the lens of animals as Little Helpers cuts neatly into contemporary society and critiques the assumptions and goals of technology leaders.

And did I mention Skotch’s investigations begin as red and gray squirrels are about to renew large-scale hostilities?

I loved Green City Wars and recommend it without reservation.

Roland Betancourt, Disneyland and the Rise of Automation. Princeton University Press. 2026. ISBN: 978-0-691-25587-3. $35.00.

Roland Betancourt’s newest book Disneyland and the Rise of Automation, published by Princeton University Press, makes valuable contributions to industrial history and Disney studies. Theme parks in general, and Disney properties in particular, offer fertile ground for analyses at the intersection of automation and entertainment.

Disney studies has taken off in academia, leading to the launch of the International Journal of Disney Studies and numerous books including Why the Magic Matters: Discovering Disney as a Laboratory for Learning, an edited volume from Bloomsbury. Betancourt’s exploration of how Disney incorporated industrial technology into its theme parks positions the theme park as a factory, relating it directly to post-World War II automation and the development of operations research to optimize those processes. As with social media companies, traffic matters—the more efficiently you can move people through your attractions the more money you make and the more data you can collect.

After setting the analytical frame, Disneyland and the Rise of Automation builds a chronological history of technologies and techniques used to build Disney attractions, such as servomechanisms used on the assembly line Ford Motor Company’s River Rouge plant, through computerized programmable logic controllers used in contemporary systems. This analysis offers significant value to industrial and Disney historians, in no small measure because of Betancourt’s attention to detail and the bountiful historical record from Disney publications, employee recollections, and patent filings the author incorporates into the text.

Walt Disney viewed his parks as a form of edutainment, offering a glimpse into the workings of the parks’ attractions. Automata such as those used in The Hall of Presidents are one example, but putting attraction control systems in full view rather than hiding them behind set pieces is another. This effort to “denude” the technology of its mystery normalizes its place in popular culture and offers at least the appearance of accessibility and comprehensibility.

As someone who’s interested in the intersection of technology and society, I enjoyed Disneyland and the Rise of Automation. It’s not meant for a general audience but the broad interest in Disney studies and ongoing business and societal focus on efficiency through operations research expands its audience well beyond academic specialists. Highly recommended.

Ruth Ahnert and Sebastian E. Ahnert, Tudor Networks of Power. Oxford University Press. 2023. ISBN: 978-0-1988-5897-3. $45.99.

Information about individuals is often interesting and useful, but you gain important insights when you build a network describing the connections between those individuals. When those networks include the truly powerful, such as heads of state, the results can be quite interesting and informative.

In Tudor Networks of Power, published by Oxford University Press, academics Ruth Ahnert and Sebastian E. Ahnert perform advanced network analysis based on letters exchanged among power players from England’s Tudor period. King Henry VIII is probably the most prominent person in the data set, but there are many powerful individuals, influencers, and other players to be accounted for.

The Ahnerts are well-positioned to take on this sort of project in the digital humanities. Ruth Ahnert is a professor of literary history and digital humanities at Queen Mary University, London, while Sebastian E. Ahnert is a university lecturer in chemical engineering at Cambridge. Sebastian has also developed expertise in network analysis, which complements Ruth’s skills well in this project.

I believe Tudor Networks of Power is best thought of as documenting a professional research project in the digital humanities. Working off an analog data source from an era before standardized spelling is a daunting prospect, even before one considers optical character recognition errors. Are Cecyll and Cesill the same person? Which James, Earl of Desmond is mentioned in this letter? There were four, after all. Name disambiguation alone took Ruth Ahnert and her assistants nine months of full-time work and a few more months part-time to complete.

Once the names were rounded into shape the Ahnerts could turn to their network analysis. Individual measures such as degree centrality (the number of incoming and outgoing connections from a network node), betweenness (the number of shortest paths between two network nodes that an individual appears on), and eigenvector centrality (proximity to a powerful node) provide useful data, but these measures provide more insight when combined into a network profile.

A network profile is the set of measures calculated for a specific node on the network. Each node represents a person, so you can identify people who make many connections, those who have a few connections but they are to high-level individuals, and ambassadors or merchants that create bridges between otherwise separated groups. I think of network profiling as a form of cluster analysis, where you identify network nodes that have many traits in common.

I enthusiastically recommend Tudor Networks of Power, especially for grad students and younger researchers in the digital humanities. The authors’ description of this project provides useful information for academics and other analysts who wish to perform network and link analysis, especially on data sets that require significant processing.

Martha Wells, Platform Decay. Tor. 2026 ISBN: 978-1-250-82700-5. $24.99.

If you’re a science fiction fan you’ve probably watched or at least seen advertisements for the Murderbot television series from Apple TV. The show is based on a book series by Martha Wells and I’m happy to say that Tor just released the eighth installment Platform Decay. tl;dr: Buy and read the entire series.

The main character of the Murderbot series is a SecUnit (security unit), a former human with cybernetic enhancements used for mission and personal security operations. The SecUnit’s specs are between that of a worker unit and a combat unit, which allows for a variety of matchups against unmodified humans, other SecUnits, more powerful foes, and combinations of adversaries varying in number and type. Importantly, SecUnit bypassed their control module and has free will, which they exercise to aid and protect a group of influential humans.

Murderbot’s independence and echoes of their human existence has allowed Wells to develop the character in interesting ways. As Murderbot grows as an individual, they experience meaningful (and stressful) human interaction, including with children, as part of the exfiltration operations central to the plot of Platform Decay. Murderbot also acts as a mentor to another SecUnit with a hacked control module, Three, so the reader gets to see how Murderbot relates to their own progress as an individual.

Like most of the other books in the Murderbot series, Platform Decay is of novella length and a fairly quick read. While you can read it by itself, I highly recommend reading the previous books in the series so you are familiar with the characters and understand the context for the action in this book. You can buy the first six installments of the series as ebooks from most major retailers.

I loved Platform Decay and can’t wait for the next Murderbot book. Highly recommended!

Kory Stamper, True Color. Alfred A. Knopf. 2026. ISBN: 978-1-5247-3303-2. $32.00.

Color is hard to define, both in the general sense and when specifying individual colors. Spare a thought for the lexicographers, editors, and subject matter experts in charge of updating color definitions for Webster's Third New International Dictionary. This unabridged monster was finally published in 1961, two years late and a million dollars over budget when a million dollars was still a million dollars.

Kory Stamper, a lexicographer who worked for Merriam-Webster for many years, weaves a compelling narrative of how editors of the Third wanted to bring its color definitions and definitional framework into the scientific age. They recruited I.H. Goodlove, a respected expert, to build out the framework and define individual colors within that new scheme. Experts are in constant demand and some have a hard time saying no to requests for their time, so everyone who has ever had a manage a project (especially one that involves producing a book) knows how this story goes.

Beyond the obvious concerns, though, Goodlove's eccentricities pushed the editors to their limit. Insisting on a specific color framework used by industrial colorists but not formalized as a standard, delivering definitions late or not at all, and extended absences due to health concerns all factor into this fascinating tale.

As the author of more than 40 books, I can attest that on some projects it seems like the book will never make it to the finish line and it would be better to accept that you have wasted tons of effort and quit throwing good money, time, blood, sweat, and tears after bad. Despite those temptations, the Third came out, albeit significantly late, and the tale of the struggle to get those bookplates to the printer with the color section included makes for riveting reading. And what happened after with the color definitions for a subsequent American Heritage Dictionary release offers valuable context for both the Third and how color work was performed and perceived in industry and society.

Elisabeth B. Reynolds (ed.), Priority Technologies. MIT Press. 2026. ISBN 978-0-262-05429-4. $24.95.

Priority Technologies, edited by Dr. Elisabeth B. Reynolds and published by the MIT Press, offers policy recommendations to develop six technologies critical to U.S. national security: critical minerals, semiconductors, biomanufacturing, quantum computing, drones, and advanced manufacturing. Reynolds and her Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT) colleagues make specific policy recommendations for each of the technologies.

The technology-focused chapters follow a set structure: Strategic Importance, Current Landscape, Gaps and Opportunities, and Recommendations. This format is similar to the popular SWOT framework, which looks at Strengths, Weaknesses, Opportunities, and Threats, in this case with added context provided by the strategic analysis. The recommendations, made by senior faculty with impressive credentials (most of whom occupy named chairs), follow a similar format and often contain similar recommendations.

Among the authors, there appears to be a consensus that the United States should develop regional hubs centered on specific technology groups. I first encountered this type of analysis in AnnaLee Saxenian’s book Regional Advantage, which was published in 1994 and depicted the rise of technology hubs along Route 128 near Boston and in Silicon Valley. Much as in Shenzhen now and with craft-based artisanry in pre-industrial Italy, concentrations of skill and resources create beneficial interactions and competition.

Proposing this type of government-led development within the United States can be a bit fraught. When I worked in the Washington, DC, area in the 1990s the term “industrial policy” evoked strong reactions. Discussions meandered from claims that central planning doomed the Soviet Union, through arguments pointing out the success of Japanese programs running through the Ministry of Technology and Industry (MITI), and often concluding with someone claiming that the United States was a free market economy and the government had no business “picking winners and losers.”

Such discussions went from interesting to drudgery after the first few times through the loop, but one could easily make the case that government entities have always picked winners and losers through acquisitions, tax incentives, and subsidies. More directly, the United States federal government acquired about 10% of Intel stock in 2025 with the stated goal of strengthening our domestic chip design and fabrication capabilities.

Thankfully, the authors bypass the age-old industrial policy debate and recommend sensible levels of government support for specific technologies, industries, and regional development hubs. While Europe has moved away from national champions, at least in part, countries such as China are following aggressive loss-leading strategies to extend their dominance beyond contracted manufacturing. It might not be time to dust off our copies of MITI and the Japanese Miracle, but there are certainly lessons to be learned.

Priority Technologies offers sensible recommendations for policymakers, legislators, and other parties interested in shaping the future of American industry. Yes, it appears that some level of explicit industrial policy is required to create a solid technological foundation for the next phase of economic development, but old prejudices should not stand in the way of future growth.