In Superbloom, Nicholas Carr offers a piercing meditation on one of the great paradoxes of our era: the more connected we become, the more fragmented we feel. Published in early 2025, the book lands at a time when digital platforms dominate our institutions, AI shapes our attention, and trust—once the connective tissue of society—is visibly eroding.

Carr’s thesis is clear: technologies designed to bring us closer—social networks, real-time communication, algorithmic personalization—are fraying the very bonds they claim to strengthen. But his brilliance lies not only in the critique, but in the way he examines the deeper human and societal costs of hyperconnection. He speaks to a civilization immersed in stimulation, yet starved for meaning.

This dovetails with the broader theme I continue to emphasize in my own work: that societal transitions are not linear—they unfold at the intersection of domains. Carr doesn’t just critique platforms or policies. He exposes how shifts in technology ripple through society, warp philosophy, destabilize governance, and rewire economic behavior. In essence, he outlines a convergence crisis—one where the very tools we created to synchronize our world are now accelerating its disintegration.

Carr likens our digital saturation to a “superbloom”: a spectacular and seemingly sudden burst of connectivity, growth, and novelty that masks years of underlying drought—emotional, psychological, civic. He explores how this bloom may actually signal fragility, not flourishing. Like real superblooms, it’s beautiful but unsustainable if the ecosystem beneath is brittle.

This framing powerfully aligns with a core observation: many systems today are brittle behind the illusion of abundance. Our institutions are straining to adapt to the speed of change. Our metrics—views, likes, engagement—track attention, not cohesion. And the very notion of truth is fragmented across networks of convenience and ideology.

Carr does not prescribe a clear fix—but neither do I believe our future rests on prescriptions. Instead, Superbloom invites a shift in mindset. One that values coherence over convenience, systemic resilience over short-term optimization, and deliberate design over digital default.

Where some see disintegration, I see an inflection point. A moment to reconsider what we connect for. What comes next will depend not on how much more we connect, but on how deeply we reimagine the purpose of connection itself. Superbloom is a call to remember that durable social fabric isn’t woven through bandwidth alone—it requires trust, empathy, narrative, and space for human growth.

In that sense, Carr’s book isn’t just critique. It’s a provocation. And perhaps, a quiet beginning to a different kind of bloom. I highly recommend this book and have added it to my library.