The Tipping Point: How Little Things Can Make a Big Difference [Englisch] [Taschenbuch]

The main problem with this book, for me at least, is that it just isn't substantial enough to be a BOOK. While the original article, which first appeared in the New Yorker quite a while back, was absorbing, delightful, and even thought-provoking, but I suppose my initial positive reaction was mostly due to the fact that it was a MAGAZINE ARTICLE, and I read it--as most people read magazine articles--while eating a meal alone or commuting to work; that is to say, without sitting at my desk, pencil and notepad at hand, paying each word and every sentence my undivided attention. I don't of course wish to disparage journalism or books written by journalists, but "The Tipping Point" suffers, I think, from everything that can go wrong when one adopts, expands, or simply reprints a newspaper or magazine article into a full-length book. The arguments Gladwell presents, when they're surrounded not by cute and funny New Yorkers cartoons but between the cardboards of a hardcover book, seem lightweight at best, and commonsensical, perhaps even farfetched, at worst. A fellow reviewer below has already noted the strange absence of any discussion of memes. Allow me to add that in a book that purports to reveal the little hidden mechanics that bring about tidal-wave changes in our social behavior and our society, the absence of detailed examination of memetics is simply unforgivable. (It'd be like writing a book that claims to talk about 20th-century physics but skips any mention of quantum mechanics.) In addition, some of the "scientific" methods employed by Gladwell seems dubious when they're not simply quixotic. For instance, the little experiment whereby Gladwell gave a list of people's last names to "400" people to read, asking them to give themselves a point every time they personally "know" someone who shares any of the last names on that list, seems just so pointless as not to merit inclusion even in a shoddily written article, much less a real book. And what's Gladwell's conclusion from this little experiment? That college students don't score too well, because they don't yet have the opportunity to know too many people, while real professionals, especially those whose business it is to have a lot of business connections, score the best. (You don't say!) And then Gladwell went on, apparently oblivious of the obviousness of it all, to dub the latter, the well connected, "the Connectors" (his capitalization; I should also mention that the author, like many fellow journalists, has the annoying habit of coining catchphrases, the usefulness of most of which seems rather questionable). If you think this is ridiculous, please allow me to assure you that the book is full of examples like this. All I can say is that if you're intrigued by the idea of the "tipping point," perhaps you should just go to your local library and photocopy those few pages of the New Yorker, rather than spend your money on the actual book. It's just not worth it.

... I found that I could not not review this book. After all, I am currently wearing Hush Puppies, and belong to a major religion that was born out of what Malcolm Gladwell might have described as a 'tipping point' thousands of years ago. In this impulse, Gladwell echoes the words of Margaret Mead, who once said 'Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful citizens can change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has.' This is the tipping point principle.

Gladwell's writing style is up-beat and popular - he is a staff writer for the New Yorker, and that style is clearly present in his writing here. Thus, those who appreciate the New Yorker will tend to like this book; those who don't, won't. Gladwell occasionally plays a bit loose with the documentation, and relies much more an anecdotal and consensus opinions than necessarily getting strong, documented proof. Then again, with a principle like the tipping point, this might not be the most important thing in any event - any hard, cold statistical data of the early Christian movement might have dismissed this wandering band of a dozen troublemakers as insignificant.

Some of Gladwell's conclusions are likewise problematic, again based on a more intuitive approach that will appeal to some and not to others. In particular, I would question his liberality of accepting drug use; while one might agree that the war on drugs goes in directions that are less helpful while other problems loom large, I'm not convinced (nor does Gladwell's argument seem very strong in this direction) that permitting or encouraging children this experience is the best course.

Some have begun describing the recent Hurricane Katrina disaster as a tipping point for the economy, but whether this will be a tipping point for good or bad, one cannot say. It is a sad fact of history that often disasters and wars are followed by periods of economic boom.

The term 'tipping point' actually comes from epidemiology, to describe the point at which virus and other infectious agents reach a critical mass sufficient to become an epidemic. The problem with this is that different viral and infectious agents have different tipping points given different conditions, so the idea of universally applying the concept of the tipping point becomes rather like the idea of the hundredth monkey, the idea in social consciousness construction that there is some sort of paradigm shift or mysterious shift in general thought and behaviour once it reaches a critical mass of people.

Do other people wear Hush Puppies now because I have doggedly insisted upon wearing mine since the 1970s (not the same pair, mind you)? Why did they fade out of fashion only to come back in? These are the kinds of issues that the tipping point cannot explain.

This is an interesting text, but more as an intellectual sideline rather than a serious attempt at formulating a universal principle of social behaviour.

Gladwells book addresses an interesting question: why do some ideas or products conquer the world by storm while others, which are just as interesting, practical or trendy, won’t?

The author provides an intriguing hypothesis about what kind of people can make a difference in spreading the word-of-mouth and eventually setting off an avalanche of events. He backs his ideas of the so-called Connectors, Maven and Salesmen up with a number of anecdotes about the spread of epidemics, about Paul Revere, a famous patriot of the American Revolution, or with stories about friends of his.

Of course, these narrations fit Gladwell’s hypothesis perfectly. But they are no real proof of the influence of Gladwell’s typology of characters on the tipping of an epidemic. This is the major drawback of this book.

The theory is fascinating and sounds so terribly meaningful. The presented stories often fit the model perfectly, but narrations and post-hoc explanations are not scientific proof. For most of the anecdotes one can easily find other explanations for the tipping of the epidemic than the ones provided by Gladwell. As for example in the story about the Airwalk shoes, the triumvirate of epidemic-tipping personalities didn’t fully come into play and the company went bankrupt after it tried to enter the mass market. I wouldn’t call that an epidemic…

Also the two "case study" chapters only provide more anecdotes and no empirical data. Cases like the enforcement of the broken-window policy on the New York City subway system would have provided a terrific opportunity to test Gladwells hypothesis, but either no data was collected during that time or Gladwell does not report the findings.

The many anecdotes are lengthy and tiresome at times, and one wonders what is left of the book without these page-filling stories. A lot of these could have easily been removed without changing the overall picture.

Thus in the end, the reader is left with the feeling of a promise unfulfilled. That is, on the title of the book it states: "How little things can make a big difference."

A little scientific research could have made this book a lot more credible than the mere collection of cute anecdotes.