Ben Jones's "Protecting Life"

Ben Jones is an assistant professor of ethics and public policy at Penn State. His books include The Ethics of Policing (coedited with Eduardo Mendieta), Apocalypse without God, and Antiracist Policing (coauthored with Karin Martin). His research on policing has received awards from the Association for Practical and Professional Ethics and University of Houston's Elizabeth D. Rockwell Center on Ethics and Leadership. He cofounded and coordinates the Policing, Policy, and Philosophy Initiative (3PI) based at Penn State's Rock Ethics Institute. Previously, he worked in the nonprofit sector on criminal justice, which included directing the campaign that repealed Connecticut's death penalty.

Jones applied the “Page 99 Test” to his new book, Protecting Life: The Ethics of Police Deadly Force, and shared the following:

If you turn to page 99 of Protecting Life: The Ethics of Police Deadly Force, you’re in the middle of Chapter 5, which explores what obligations police have to persons with mental illness. There are a lot of debates in philosophy and law about how to understand these obligations, especially when someone with diminished culpability is violent and poses a threat. Page 99 comes after considering several proposals and ultimately rejecting them. It’s part of the section that outlines my proposal for what police owe to persons with mental illness.

At first glance, page 99 might not appear to be a good snapshot of the book. The page starts in the middle of a longer explanation, mentioning what I call “the fusion account”—my proposed account of police’s obligations to persons with mental illness. But you need to read the preceding page to know what that term means.

If, though, you can get past the unfamiliar terms at the start, the rest of page 99 dives into ideas central to the book. Protecting Life unpacks the specific moral concerns raised by many police killings and then proceeds to identify policies, laws, practices, and training to address those concerns. It notes two overarching worries with police killings, especially in the US: (1) too often police use deadly force in circumstances where it’s not necessary, and (2) the harms from police deadly force fall disproportionately on marginalized groups.

Killings of persons with mental illness illustrate both concerns. Sadly, there have been a number of incidents where police have used unnecessary and deadly force against individuals with mental illness. A few pages earlier, on page 89, the book discusses the 2011 brutal beating death of Kelly Thomas—an unarmed man with schizophrenia living on the street in Fullerton, California. Data back up what these anecdotes suggest: persons with serious mental illness in the US die from police violence at disproportionately higher rates.

That reality represents a moral failure. Page 99 emphasizes that both police institutions and individual officers have obligations to better protect vulnerable groups. By exploring those obligations and how to make them a reality, Protecting Life serves as a resource to police professionals, policymakers, and the public.

Visit Ben Jones's Penn State webpage.

Coffee with a Canine: Ben Jones & Sloopy.

The Page 99 Test: Apocalypse without God.

--Marshal Zeringue

Aarthi Vadde's "We the Platform"

Aarthi Vadde is E. Blake Byrne Associate Professor of English at Duke University. She is the author of Chimeras of Form: Modernist Internationalism Beyond Europe, 1914–2016 (2016) and coeditor of The Norton Anthology of English Literature, volume F: The Twentieth and Twenty-First Centuries (2024), among other books. She is the president of the Society for Novel Studies (2025–27) and cofounder of its podcast Novel Dialogue.

Vadde applied the “Page 99 Test” to her new book, We the Platform: How the Internet Changed Twenty-First-Century Literature, and reported the following:

If you turn to page 99 of We the Platform, the first thing you’ll see is the answer to a question posed on page 98 (uh oh).

Jeopardy-style, here’s the answer:

At least three things: First, many authors and publishers are “profoundly suspicious of the internet but recognize the need to revise their business models to find ways of profiting from it.” Second, “the effect of multiple book formats (print, e-book, audio) alongside platforms for self-publication has changed what it means to own fiction intellectually for authors and consume fiction physically for readers.” Third, the circulation of literature, in which “the owning of books and the sharing of written stories are two separate things, has influenced the styles, subjects, and locations of literary writing.

The question: What happens to literature when the internet dominates book culture?

Surprisingly, maybe even reassuringly, the Page 99 Test produced satisfying results. We the Platform is about how the internet changed twenty-first century literature (that’s my subtitle) and page 99 covers both the economic changes to the landscape and the stylistic innovations that resulted from major authors deciding to write fiction for social media. The rest of page introduces three such authors – Jennifer Egan, David Mitchell, and Teju Cole – all of whom wrote fiction on Twitter in the 2010s. I claim, crucially on page 99, that writing for Twitter led them to make “formal and rhetorical adjustments away from the printed book” and these in turn led to stylistic changes in their major post-Twitter novels (like The Candy House, Slade House, and Tremor).

So in a nutshell, page 99 gets to the heart of my book’s thesis even if it only provides a peek into one of my chapters. Other chapters provide answers to different questions: like how did Creative Commons turn authorship into a mass cultural category? Why did Margaret Atwood partner with Wattpad? Does the online growth of fan fiction shed new light on literary fiction? (Hint: it absolutely does). As a whole, We the Platform strives to be a two-way street: it shows how the internet changed literature but, just as importantly, how literature changes our perspective on the internet.

Visit Aarthi Vadde's website.

--Marshal Zeringue

Leah Kalmanson's "Local Gods"

Leah Kalmanson is associate professor and Bhagwan Adinath Professor of Jain Studies in the Department of Philosophy and Religion at the University of North Texas.

She is the author of Cross-Cultural Existentialism: On the Meaning of Life in Asian and Western Thought (2020) and coauthor of A Practical Guide to World Philosophies: Selves, Worlds, and Ways of Knowing (2021).

Kalmanson applied the "Page 99 Test" to her new book, Local Gods: A Philosophy of Spiritual Diversity, with the following results:

The first thing readers encounter on page 99 of Local Gods is the following line of text, set as a block quotation:

山林、川谷、丘陵，能出雲為風雨，見怪物，皆曰神。有天下者，祭百神。諸侯在 其地則祭之，亡其地則不祭。

This is a passage in classical Chinese from the Liji or Book of Rites. The block quote corresponds to my English translation at the end of page 98:

Mountains and forests, rivers and valleys, hills and mounds [i.e., tombs], which can cause the clouds to produce wind and rain or strange things to appear—these are called gods. The one who possesses all under the sky [i.e., the emperor] sacrifices to a hundred gods. The various regional lords make sacrifices when in their own territories; when not in their own territories, they do not sacrifice.

My discussion of this content on page 99 does, indeed, reflect the central questions of the book: How “local” are local gods? How should we behave toward gods outside of our own home locales? And how can godly powers be cultivated locally, either in the landscape, at the burial site, or within the crucible of one’s own heart?

The content on page 99 also reflects larger trajectories in my work in general. My research has often been spurred by gaps I’ve found in my options for classroom materials. Local Gods was born because I was looking for a book to use for a philosophy of religion class. My previous book, Cross-Cultural Existentialism, was also written for use in a class.

So, you would think I would write books that are approachable and accessible. But my undergraduates, who have dutifully plodded through these texts, will readily tell you otherwise! Philosophy, with its technical jargon, can already feel uninviting. My books contain technical philosophical terminology in a variety of languages and scripts. Moreover, for Local Gods, my publisher agreed to my requests to incorporate non-English terms without the usual italicization. I had specific reasons for this (which I discuss on pages 14 to 16), but I recognize that the frequency of unfamiliar words and diacritical marks can be jarring.

I am not a polyglot. Local Gods is the product not only of countless hours of my own research and language study but also the time and effort of specialists who graciously responded to my emails to evaluate specific portions and lend their expertise. For many readers, the opening content on page 99 of Local Gods might be inviting and intriguing. Roughly twenty percent of the world’s people are familiar with Chinese characters to some degree. For many other readers, flipping to page 99 might give the impression this book is too specialized or too obscure. But I wrote Local Gods with a sincere desire to learn, and I found what I learned fascinating from beginning to end, so I hope that a deeper dive into the book makes it worth the reader’s effort.

Learn more about Local Gods at the Columbia University Press website.

--Marshal Zeringue

Chad M. Topaz's "Unlocking Justice"

Chad M. Topaz is professor of complex systems at Williams College and cofounder of the QSIDE Institute, which uses data science to promote equity and justice. An award-winning educator and researcher recognized by the National Academy of Sciences, the Association for Women in Mathematics, and the Society for Industrial and Applied Mathematics, he has authored numerous studies at the intersection of data science, social justice, and public policy. His opinion pieces have appeared in the Chicago Tribune, the New York Daily News, the Philadelphia Inquirer, Inside Higher Ed, and other publications.

Topaz applied the “Page 99 Test” to his new book, Unlocking Justice: The Power of Data to Confront Inequity and Create Change, and shared the following:

Page 99 of Unlocking Justice distinguishes jails from prisons. Jails are short-term holding places, high-turnover and sparse on programming. Prisons hold people convicted of serious crimes and, at least in theory, offer more rehabilitation. From there, the page turns to Rikers Island, New York City's infamous jail complex, long associated with violence, neglect, and official failure. It begins a section called "A Brief History of Terrible Things" and warns the reader that the material ahead is hard to read.

Does the Page 99 Test work? Mostly. A reader who opened to page 99 would meet one of the book's central concerns, which is what powerful systems do to people when the public is not looking. The page is not abstract. It is about a place, a history, and people trapped inside an institution that has somehow survived scandal after scandal.

But page 99 would mislead in two ways. First, Unlocking Justice is not only a book about harm. It is a book about data. Court records, public-records requests, jail data, sentencing data, risk-assessment algorithms. Page 99 starts to move toward why the work matters. It does not show how the work is done.

Second, the page is much darker and more solemn than the book as a whole. The book spends real time with violence, secrecy, and racial disparity. It has to. But it is also, in places, funny, and it is, above all, hopeful. And although it is a book about data, it is not a technical book. You do not have to love numbers, or even like them, to follow it. Its argument is that data is not just for experts and institutions. It is for residents, organizers, students, journalists, and anyone willing to ask what the numbers show.

Unlocking Justice walks through the criminal legal system. A rural New England town with a portrait of Hitler in the police station, which became the starting point for an investigation of racial bias in policing. Public judicial records that, once pried loose, named the New York City judges setting bail at disproportionate rates. Florida's COMPAS algorithm, which I examined for the inequity buried in its risk scores. And more. Again and again, the institutions with the most power over people's lives are the ones working hardest to keep their data out of view. The point of the book is that people can force that view open, and use it to demand transparency, accountability, and justice.

Visit Chad M. Topaz's website.

--Marshal Zeringue

Rod Phillips's "Cats: A History"

Rod Phillips is a professor of history at Carleton University, Ottawa, Canada. He is the author of Alcohol: A History and A New History of Divorce.

Phillips applied the Ford Madox Ford-inspired “Page 99 Test” to his new book, Cats: A History, and reported the following:

Ford Madox Ford’s love of cats is well-documented and his poem “The Cat of the House” is especially well known. So whether or not he found page 99 of Cats: A History enticing, he might have turned back to page 1 and started reading.

Page 99 is in a chapter titled “Ancient Greece and Rome: The Ambiguity of Cats” because there was no clear-cut attitude toward cats – unlike Ancient Egypt, where cats were regarded positively, even if not (despite popular belief) as gods. The page deals with cats on Greek wine cups and on coins minted in Greek colonies, and it draws the browser’s attention to some of the book’s major themes. A wine cup showing a cat under the chair of a king echoes the Egyptians’ “cat under a chair” motif, but in Egyptian art cats were almost always under chairs occupied by women. This Greek exception draws attention to the association of cats and women (and women’s sexuality) that is one of the book’s major themes.

The coins depict Iokastos, founder of a Greek colony in Italy, dangling something for a cat to leap at, and it exemplifies the challenges to understanding historic relationships between humans and cats. If Iokastos was dangling a piece of meat (one hypothesis), the cat was leaping for food; if it was a stick (another hypothesis), the cat and Iokastos were playing. So, this might be a rare early example of a pet cat in a playful relationship with its owner. I argue in Cats that pet cats are not identifiable in large numbers until the late 1800s – 2,000 years after Iokastos and his cat – and that cats were not commonly kept as pets until as recently as the 1950s or 1960s.

Page 99 is a teaser for Cats and might reflect, in Ford’s words, “the quality of the whole book.” Even so, it’s a fairly pedestrian page in a more complex narrative. Among other things, the book challenges the common notion that cats are “less domesticated” than dogs and it explains the historic associations of cats with heresies, magic, witches, the Devil, women, women’s sexuality, and outsiders – all historically considered socially disruptive forces.

For many centuries, humans have had tumultuous relationships with cats that are totally unlike their broadly harmonious relationships with dogs. Page 99 provides a couple of pieces of the bigger picture, and perhaps that’s the most we should expect of any single page.

Learn more about Cats: A History at the publisher's website, and visit the website for Phillips's books about wine.

--Marshal Zeringue

Adam Y. Liu's "Authoritarian Markets"

Adam Y. Liu is an Assistant Professor in the Lee Kuan Yew School of Public Policy at the National University of Singapore.

He applied the "Page 99 Test" to his new book, Authoritarian Markets: The Politics of China's Banking Explosion, with the following results:

Page 99 sits in Chapter 4, “Glorious Market Yang,” in the section “Six National Surveys Before 2012.” There I test whether bank competition actually helps firms. Across six national firm surveys, I find that in five of the six years, greater local bank competition reduced the probability that private-firm managers reported unmet capital needs, and reduced their reliance on the informal financial market. Then comes the anomaly: 2009. The “magic” of competition disappears—because that is the year the state launched its post-crisis stimulus. Beijing issued campaign-style directives ordering banks to lend to the real economy, fast-tracked a wave of local- government projects, and, tellingly, firms whose owners were Party members—especially those sitting on the local People’s Congress—were far less likely to report credit constraints. The page closes by turning to a 2017 survey (Table 4.2) in which I asked firm owners directly whether their borrowing had truly hardened.

Does the Page 99 Test work?

Better than I would have guessed. Page 99 does not announce my thesis—for that a browser would want the introduction—but it stages the book’s central drama in miniature. The whole book is about two faces of the Chinese market: the “yang” of genuine competition that lowers borrowing costs and frees private firms, and the authoritarian hand that can override that competition at will. Page 99 catches both in one motion—competition working for five years, then dissolving the instant the state mobilized its banks in campaign style and political connection, not market merit, decided who got credit. A browser landing here would correctly infer that this is a book about how Chinese markets are made, and unmade, by politics—and would even meet two of my recurring devices: the firm survey and the telltale weight of political connection.

What the page cannot show is the puzzle that drives the book. China built the world’s largest banking system—from a handful of state banks to more than four thousand—without secure property rights or limited government. Authoritarian Markets argues the market grew not in spite of authoritarian rule but because of it: elite bargaining and political competition, not institutional constraints, drove banks to multiply and compete. Such “authoritarian markets” run on three properties—rationed entry, reflective competition, and rigged regulation—and the same politics that fueled three decades of growth also seeded the financial risks China confronts today. Page 99 is one beat in that larger story: the moment the market’s promise meets the state’s grip.

Learn more about Authoritarian Markets at the Cornell University Press website.

--Marshal Zeringue

Laura Kalpakian's "Undesirable"

Laura Kalpakian is the author of Memory into Memoir: A Writer’s Handbook, a memoir, sixteen novels, and five prize-winning collections of short fiction. She lives in the Pacific Northwest.

Kalpakian applied the “Page 99 Test” to her new book, Undesirable: The Vietnam War and a Father's Battle for Justice, and shared the following:

Page 99 is taken from Chapter 10, “My Boy Must Be Saved” of Undesirable, a book created from letters that chronicle my father’s struggle on behalf of my brother Doug Johnson (1950–2021) who went to Vietnam at the age of nineteen in 1969 and paid for it with the rest of his life.

Page 99 offers portions of letters both to and from my father, Bill Johnson, when Doug was still in a military hospital in Japan suffering from hepatitis. Doug had been airlifted to Japan from Long Binh Jail in Vietnam where he was imprisoned in December 1969 following a court-martial for AWOL and drug possession.

Page 99 also offers bits and pieces of letters from and to Army personnel, chaplains, senators, congressmen, up to and including President Richard Nixon.

Page 99 is indeed a sort of microcosm of Undesirable. “My Boy Must Be Saved” was my father’s mantra for three years as he besieged various entities on Doug’s behalf.

Here on page 99 his efforts were aimed at getting Doug removed from combat after the hospital. Later, in the summer of 1970, my dad’s approach would evolve into attack as he desperately cage-rattled politicos, chaplains, and the Army in an effort to discover Doug’s whereabouts after he went AWOL in Cambodia. In late August 1970, Doug Johnson left the Army with an Undesirable Discharge and shattered health. His father was there to meet him on the tarmac at McChord AFB. From October 1970 to 1972, Bill Johnson assailed (in turn) the Army’s Inspector-General’s office, the Army Medical Department, the Army Discharge Review Board, the Army Board for Correction of Military Records. My father created and dispersed documents—thousands of words of testimony—in support of his conviction that the Undesirable discharge was not only undeserved, it was unjust. In response, he collected replies from uniformed brass (all of which he kept, all of which I found in the safe fifty years after these events) telling him: No, Mr. Johnson, you may not have our cooperation. Indeed, you can only have our obstruction, a brick wall of No.

So, imaginatively speaking, take these few replies (or lack thereof) from page 99 and multiply them by the hundreds. Then, dear reader: consider what that avalanche of persistent rejection, deflection, defeat, and denial would do to the psyche. My father despaired, but he did not give up. Such was his dedication to his son that through all the dismissals, the kiss-offs cast in Officialese, the paragraphs of stale BS that the Army swathed all over their responses, he persisted. In December 1972, the Army offered a compromise, a General Discharge Under Honorable Circumstances. My book argues that this was a cover-up. Did my father know this? I have no way of knowing. In any event, he and Doug accepted it. But his boy was not saved. Thirty years of addiction, PTSD, mental illness, and heartbreak lay ahead.

Visit Laura Kalpakian's website.

--Marshal Zeringue

Marc A. VanOverbeke "Playing the Game"

Marc A. VanOverbeke is an Associate Professor in the Department of Educational Policy Studies in the College of Education at the University of Illinois at Chicago (UIC). He explores the history of education and education policy, and specifically examines the history of educational access and opportunity. His first book, The Standardization of American Schooling, considered the interconnectedness of secondary and higher education at the turn of the twentieth century and the ways in which those connections influenced access to college.

VanOverbeke applied the “Page 99 Test” to his new book, Playing the Game: How State Colleges Used Athletics to Expand Educational Opportunity, and reported the following:

Playing the Game explores the period between World War II and 1970, when state colleges expanded rapidly from normal schools or vocational institutes into four-year colleges and when some first opened as new campuses. Administrators and students fully embraced athletics as key to this expansion and to the state college mission to be open and accessible. Page 99 falls in the middle of a short introduction to the second period in the postwar development of state colleges (and to the last half of the book). A few of the passages relevant to an understanding of the whole book are the following sentences from page 99:

…The activism around and through sport reflected the central role that sport had assumed on these campuses and its significance to collegiate life. Athletics was both the target of activism and a means of broader protest, and it proved to be a powerful tool for protesting students who expected their institutions to live up to a mission of openness and accessibility.

What came in this second period was a more full-throated defense—driven largely by this student activism—of equality of access, of making college readily available to greater numbers, and of arguing that colleges had an obligation to develop the means for students to overcome any challenges that they had in accessing college and succeeding there.

From 1954 to 1962, state college enrollments doubled to nearly 1 million students and then to 2.3 million in 1970.

A reader opening to this page will find information on the dramatic growth in enrollment at state colleges, as well as a sense of how student protests in and through athletics shaped state colleges between 1962 and 1970. What the reader will not get from this page is any definition or context for state colleges and their mission of accessibility and opportunity. Still, I am pleased that the page provides a reasonable overview of the pages to come, while also showing how the second half builds on the first part.

As detailed in the first part of the book (but not on page 99), administrators embraced athletics to build public support for their institutions, rebrand from normal schools to “real” colleges, recruit students, and create a sense of loyalty among players, students, and community members. The second half of the book, which picks up after page 99, continues to explore athletics as key to state college growth and shows how students turned to athletics to promote their goals, dreams, hopes, and wishes. Students used the same athletic playbook that administrators had adopted in the first period but did so to pressure their colleges to truly become accessible institutions. Athletics and sports have been fundamental to state colleges. Page 99 may not provide a full sense of this role or of the book, but it does highlight the significance of athletics to the development of state colleges and to the expansion of higher education to greater numbers of students.

Learn more about Playing the Game at the Cornell University Press website.

--Marshal Zeringue

Julie-Ann Scott-Pollock's "Stories of Raising Boys"

Julie-Ann Scott-Pollock is Professor of Communication and Performance Studies at the University of North Carolina Wilmington. She is the author of Embodied Performance as Applied Research, Art and Pedagogy, which was awarded the Lilla A. Heston Award for Outstanding Scholarship in Interpretation and Performance Studies by the National Communication Association.

Scott-Pollock applied the "Page 99 Test" to her new book, Stories of Raising Boys: Masculinity, Disability, Gender Expansiveness, and Anxiety, with the following results:

From page 99:

…costume for Theo, and luckily, he loves it. Vinny walks tall and regal. Nico holds my hand tightly, careful as he looks up at me with big, dark eyes.

“You’re so beautiful, Nico.”

He looks away with a smile, and I think about how his gender-expansive swim differs from Vinny’s, which carefully and strategically chooses exclusively feminine strokes. Nico seems to have inherited my anxiety, according to our pediatrician, and treads water carefully between binary gender streams even though he seems to be the happiest in ultrafeminine attire. The next chapter is the story of our second gender-expansive boy’s anxious swim.

Page 99 ends chapter 3, so there isn’t a whole page of text. Still, it gives the reader a glimpse into my book. It mentions three of my boys and draws on the metaphor of swimming through the ocean that I use to explain what it means to navigate the world as parents of boys that are both privileged by being born into a white, middle-class family, with engaged, educated parents who advocate for them, and who are marginalized because of their disability, gender identity, and/or anxiety in an ableist, patriarchal culture. It also reveals the book's overall structure, which is organized so that each child has their own chapter.

I would be disappointed if a reader only opened to this page because they can’t know the context of Theo, Vinny, and Nico having makeovers at the Bibbity Bobbity Boutique on a Disney Cruise a few pages earlier and how their Fairy Godfather explained that Disney knows that being a princess is an aura and mindset that has nothing to do with being a boy or a girl. A reader might think the entire book is about gender-expansive sons because most of the central characters are missing. Theo, one of my two conventionally masculine sons, is only mentioned in a fragment of a sentence. My big, powerful, and emotionally exhausted oldest son, Tony, who has frequent, uncontrolled seizures, and their baby sister Rosalie are also not on page 99. From just this section, readers also wouldn’t know that I am physically disabled, and know social stigma in ways their dad, who has always been an athletic, smart, tall, conventionally attractive man, cannot quite access, despite his empathetic and protective spirit.

I worry that, based on just page 99, readers would not realize this book is not a memoir. It is an autoethnography that examines the power structures of society through the stories we choose to tell from the cultural locations we occupy and the bodies we’re in. From just this page, readers won’t know that my stories of raising boys are approved by them and deepened through interweaving interviews with adults who also live with seizures, are gender expansive, and/or are diagnosed with anxiety. Page 99 does not reveal that this book is a story of raising boys at the cultural intersections of masculinity and an analysis that offers hope for inclusive, safe swims for all bodies through culture.

Learn more about Stories of Raising Boys at the Temple University Press website.

--Marshal Zeringue

Joseph Turow's "The Problem with Personalization"

Joseph Turow is the Robert Lewis Shayon Professor of Media Systems & Industries Emeritus in the Annenberg School of Communication at the University of Pennsylvania. He is the author of thirteen books and the editor of five, including The Voice Catchers: How Marketers Listen In to Exploit Your Feelings, Your Privacy, and Your Wallet; The Aisles Have Eyes: How Retailers Track Your Shopping, Strip Your Privacy, and Define Your Power; and The Daily You: How the New Advertising Industry Is Defining Your Identity and Your Worth.

Turow applied the “Page 99 Test” to his latest book, The Problem with Personalization: How Advertisers Learned to Make and Break Us from Ancient Times to the AI Age, and shared the following:

As it happens, page 99 of The Problem with Personalization marks the beginning of chapter 4 of 8 chapters. In that sense, it lies squarely in the middle of the book, and of my argument. The book’s subtitle is “How Advertisers Learned to Make and Break Us from Ancient Time to the AI Age.” Chapters 1-3 tackle the pre-internet versions of personalization, from street hawkers and peddlers of centuries past to the rise of direct mail and direct marketing in the 20th century. Those chapters demolish the widespread notion that personalization in advertising is a product of the 21st century; far from it. Chapter 4 pivots to our current century. It and the ones that follow show how advertisers draw on past aspirations and assumptions about personalization. But advertisers of today do that using artificial intelligence and the internet. They weaponize data in unprecedented ways that drive mono-segmentation and, over the next decades, the disappearance of shared reality and community.

Chapter 4 is called “Cookies, Barcodes, Smartphones, and Location Targeting: The Internet Takes the Direct Marketing Crown.” Here is how it begins on page 99:

In 1994 Lou Montulli worked for Netscape Communications, a company that made the Netscape Navigator World Wide Web browser. His bosses asked him to address a difficulty bedeviling companies trying to sell things in the new web world. There was no way to keep track of an individual’s visits to or clicks on a website. Online stores could therefore sell only one item at a time. If you wanted to buy something on a store’s site, you would click to place it in the website’s “shopping cart” and then you would have to check out right at that moment. You could not leave it in the cart and look again on the site for something to buy because you’d lose the first item. The website had no way to know if the same visitor was coming back to the cart. To grease the wheels of browser commerce, Montulli was, in essence, charged with creating a persistent identity tracker for an individual’s presence where others at Netscape had tried and failed.

This, page 100 points out, was the beginning of the cookie. The cookie was crucial to making direct marketing the mainstream model for audience construction in the internet era. It caused marketers to continually search for ways to splinter their profiles of consumers and then target them using those hypersegmented, even individualized, understandings. Chapters 4 through 8 cover how that process evolved into a new era of predictive and generative artificial intelligence—and what it means for individuals and the larger society.

A person reading page 99 alone would probably not get a good idea of the entire work because the Montulli anecdote, not the book’s theme, takes center stage. The chapter title may offer a hint of the prior and forthcoming topics, but certainly not in an explicit way. Nevertheless, a reader of the book will find page 99 as a crucial pivot in the book’s trajectory. At this point the story is moving from the “mass” oriented analog and early digital-media environment of the late twentieth century (think cable TV, CDs, and early PCs) to our era where artificial intelligence technologies linked to increasingly personalized digital platforms are transforming our lives fundamentally. Chapter 5 is called “Machine Learning, Predictive Analytics, Identity Resolution: AI and The Data Deluge.” Charter 6's title is “Dynamic Personalizations, Unprecedented Permutations, Virtual Influencers: Enter Gen. A.” Chapter 7 deals with “Consumer Data and the Law Governments Pushback, Marketers Push Forward,” and Chapter 8 confronts the basic question “Why Don't People Revolt?”

So, while page 99 doesn’t presage all this, it serves as the key entry point for it. Perhaps that’s a useful variation on the Ford Madox Ford quote.

Stepping back to focus on the book’s theme, I ought to say that concerns, including in my own work, about marketers’ data-hoovering activities typically focus on privacy. But I have come to believe that companies’ frenetic drives toward AI-created personalization is leading to an even costlier predicament: It is making it impossible to sustain the kind of healthy media system required to cultivate a healthy society. That is why I wrote The Problem of Personalization. The book makes its argument by telling stories that put the personalization problem into historical, technological, legal and social perspectives. I hope this discussion of page 99 makes you want to explore the book as a whole.

Learn more about The Problem with Personalization at the University of Chicago Press website.

--Marshal Zeringue

Xian Aubin Wang's "Islam and Maoism in Southern Yunnan"

Xian Aubin Wang is Postdoctoral Fellow at the Australian Centre on China in the World at the Australian National University.

She applied the “Page 99 Test” to her new book, Islam and Maoism in Southern Yunnan: State Violence and Resistance, 1949–2024, and reported the following:

Page 99 sets the stage by comparing the oral history testimonies of a Muslim villager with the official accounts of the conflicts that developed between the Shadian Muslim militia and the Maoist revolutionary People’s Militia. Unlike the narratives of the Maoist work teams that blame the Muslim villagers as a “chaos-making mob,” the oral testimony indicates that the Muslim villagers established their own militia because they felt threatened by the aggression of the weaponized Maoist revolutionary militia, from whom the villagers attempted to seize guns. The antagonism between the two groups intensified, and members of both sides engaged in armed conflict. The page concludes by stressing that the official narratives “offer little information about how a series of conflicts between the Shadian Muslim militia and the People’s Militia unfolded, leading to the Party Center’s direct intervention and the eventual negotiations between Muslim representatives and top CCP leaders in Beijing.”

The Page 99 Test works surprisingly well because it introduces a crucial point that the book makes to readers. That is, besides official documents, Muslim villagers’ written materials and oral testimonies are vital sources that allow us to more comprehensively understand the religious motives and agency of individuals who resisted Maoist work teams and the PLA in the 1960s and 1970s. Therefore, the voices of the Muslim villagers are integral to the book as a whole.

The page begins with the term “religious traitor[s],” who are nowhere to be mentioned in the official documents. Nonetheless, the Muslim villagers’ oral testimonies revealed that these “religious traitors”, identified as local CCP Muslim leaders, cooperated with Maoist work teams to ban Islamic practice, close mosques, and blaspheme Islam. In other words, the Maoist work teams cultivated a patron-client relationship between Maoist revolutionaries and local CCP Muslim cadres, through which the secular state power was able to infiltrate into the religious communities, further escalating the tensions between the atheist revolutionary state, Muslim collaborators, and the ordinary Muslim villagers. Without oral history interviews, such important local dynamics would have been neglected as we interpret how conflict between the Muslim villagers and the party-state originated, developed, and escalated to the point of antagonism.

As the first study investigating how and why conflicts between the Chinese Communist Party authorities and southern Yunnan Muslims, beginning in the early 1950s, culminated in the 1975 massacre, this book suggests a new methodological approach to understanding the development of conflicts between state power and religious communities in borderland regions by emphasizing the importance of connecting elite politics and statecraft to local dynamics and experiences.

Learn more about Islam and Maoism in Southern Yunnan at the Cornell University Press website.

--Marshal Zeringue

Rachel Grace Newman's "The Future in Their Hands"

Rachel Grace Newman is a historian of modern Mexico with particular interests in migration, family, and social inequality. She is an Assistant Professor of History at Colgate University. At Colgate, she teaches on these themes and other topics in modern Latin American, global history, and historical methods.

Newman applied the "Page 99 Test" to her new book, The Future in Their Hands: Making Mexico's Foreign-Educated Elite, with the following results:

What’s on page 99 of The Future in Their Hands:

This falls in the book’s fifth chapter, set in the mid-twentieth century. That chapter explores the political agenda of Mexican students studying abroad, mostly in the United States. This agenda, I argue, was not explicitly ideological and perhaps seems even apolitical: young, middle-class Mexicans sought to protect and uplift their social status by securing generous scholarships to support themselves and their families, expecting that their foreign degrees would ultimately shore up their future careers with prestige and good salaries.

On page 99, we find several stories relating to Mexican students’ family commitments both during and after their studies abroad. First, we encounter the end of the story of Concepción Reza Inclán, who studied economics at UCLA in 1952-1953. She sat for several interviews with a researcher during her time in Los Angeles, and she told the interviewer that she aspired to be both a professional economist and a wife, which the interviewer found hard to believe possible. On page 99, we learn that in 1959, several years after returning from UCLA, she was working as an economist for Nestlé México. I explain that we don’t know whether she also had formed her own family by that point. It is the case, though, that some US-educated Mexican women I interviewed ended up being very successful researchers and mothers, too.

In the mid-twentieth century, scholarship program officers (such as those working for the Rockefeller Foundation) saw women’s family commitments as impediments to their professional careers, and so they were generally unsupportive of women who married or worse, had children. However, as I explain on this page, the Rockefeller was also unsupportive of men who provided for family members other than their wives or children. Subscribing to a vision of a breadwinner for the nuclear family that presumed that young professional men did not need to take care of their own parents, siblings, or other relatives, Rockefeller officers were surprised to find that the Mexican students they invest in with scholarships had just these kinds of “other dependents.” As I explain on page 99, these commitments were common, but usually scholarship recipients were not given extra support from the Rockefeller to provide for these relatives. An exception was one young playwright, considered to be very promising, Jorge Ibargüengoitia—who did actually become famous several years later. Because he negotiated for it, he garnered an extra stipend of $80 monthly so that he could continue to support his widowed mother and his aunt back in Mexico while he was studying theater in the United States.

Does the Page 99 Test work for this book?

The sources I used to write page 99 are some of my favorites, so the test pinpointed a place where my personal scholarly predilections really come through. Indeed, this test works fairly well for my book, although the contents of page 99 might come as a surprise to the browser who opened up to this page after seeing the book cover. Invoking “foreign-educated Mexicans” (as in the book title) usually brings a very specific image to mind: US-trained technocrats who ushered Mexico into neoliberalism in the late twentieth century. But I’m interested in how Mexicans pursued foreign education, what scholarship programs aimed to do and how they worked, and how upwardly mobile youth’s ambitions and experiences abroad related to their social origins. That will be an unexpected turn for many readers, and page 99 indicates just how deep we venture into the social history of Mexico’s ordinary elite. In the book, I argue that social imperatives were just as important as intellectual (or political) motives for studying abroad because a foreign education both signified and enhanced Mexican social privilege. That privilege was conditioned by family responsibilities and gender norms, both points which come across on page 99.

Elsewhere in the book, we learn about the political history of their relationship with state institutions. The book’s main argument is that the Mexican state created cohorts of foreign-educated Mexicans through scholarship programs at the behest of ambitious elites themselves. The idea is that scholarship programs, whether yoked to discourses of nationalism, modernization, or development, have always obeyed a hidden agenda: opportunities for elites to shore up their own status with support from the state in the form of merit-based, selective benefits. The Mexican state is mostly absent on this page (though its first systematic scholarship program, run by the Banco de México, does get a mention, and it is featured elsewhere in the book). But page 99 is not quite misleading because my book is not only about the Mexican state, but about the forces outside of it in Mexican society and even beyond Mexico that shaped its policy. The Mexican state was never been the only source for funds to study abroad. Besides family-financed study, Mexican students have also had access to scholarships from foreign and international organizations, like the Rockefeller.

Visit Rachel Grace Newman's website.

--Marshal Zeringue

Christian B. Miller's "The Honesty Crisis"

Christian B. Miller is the A. C. Reid Professor of Philosophy at Wake Forest University. He is the author of over 130 articles as well as Moral Psychology (2021), Moral Character: An Empirical Theory (2013), Character and Moral Psychology (2014), The Character Gap: How Good Are We? (2017), and Honesty: The Philosophy and Psychology of a Neglected Virtue (2021). He is a contributor for Forbes, and his writings have appeared in The New York Times, Wall Street Journal, Dallas Morning News, Slate, The Conversation, Newsweek, Aeon, and Christianity Today. Thanks to a $4.4 million grant from the John Templeton Foundation, he directed The Honesty Project, one of the largest research initiatives ever undertaken on honesty.

Miller applied the “Page 99 Test” to his latest book, The Honesty Crisis: Preserving Our Most Treasured Virtue in an Increasingly Dishonest World, and shared the following:

From page 99:

Culture Building. The biggest influence on student cheating is what their peers are doing. So the appropriate counterbalance, it seems, is to build a culture of honesty and integrity in a school.

A centerpiece of such culture building is often an honor code. As one researcher defines it, “An honor code is a community code of conduct guided by ethical principles defining the expectations for students to act with honesty and integrity and acknowledging the shared responsibility of all members” (Tatum 2022: 33).

In my experience, such codes are pretty familiar in the U.S., but not nearly as much in other places around the world. So some examples might help. Here, for instance, is the honor code that students at my school have to affirm:

"Wake Forest University is an academic community that subscribes to an honor system. By accepting membership in this community, each student assumes the obligation to be trustworthy in all pursuits. I pledge that I have not given or received information concerning this exam."

The Page 99 Test works okay, but not great, I would say. Combined with the title of the book, The Honesty Crisis, the reader should get the impression from this page that one area of society that I am worried about when it comes to dishonesty is student cheating, and furthermore that I am offering some concrete recommendations on how to address that cheating. At the same time, the reader won't get an impression of what the five other honesty crises are that I address, as well as the chapters on what honesty is, how there is some good news coming from psychology, and why honesty is an important virtue which is worth preserving.

To give a little bit more of an introduction to the rest of the book, I define an honesty crisis as any situation in which dishonest behavior has become incentivized to a greater degree, and at the same time it has become harder to catch or detect. That's a bad combination. In addition to AI student cheating, I also discuss in detail online infidelity, deepfakes, sermon plagiarism, celebrity and dishonesty, and political misinformation. I also try to offer some practical suggestions for addressing these crises, where appropriate, in order to preserve what I argue is an incredibly important virtue.

Visit Christian B. Miller's website.

--Marshal Zeringue

Craig S. Simpson's "Television is Where You Find It"

Craig S. Simpson is the director of special collections and archives at San José State University. He is the coauthor of Above the Shots: An Oral History of the Kent State Shootings, with Gregory S. Wilson, and Cinema Then and Now: James Naremore—Conversations with Craig S. Simpson.

Simpson applied the “Page 99 Test” to his new book, Television Is Where You Find It: A History of Feature Filmmakers in TV, and reported the following:

Readers flipping directly to page 99 would have their attention grabbed by the only f-bomb in the entire 201pp. book. It’s near the top of the page, in a quote by pioneering Black filmmaker Melvin Van Peebles: “We have this romantic idea that all blacks should be radicals. Get the fuck out of here!” It soon becomes clear that this quote concerns the very non-radical Bill Cosby, as he transitioned from standup comedy to being the first Black lead (or co-lead, with white actor Robert Culp) of a TV series, NBC’s I Spy (1965-1968). I note that I Spy’s “international locales took the series out of the racial turmoil of 1960s America,” and then I quote scholar Donald Bogle’s observation, “Consequently…it was felt that audiences would never question such matters as hotel accommodations in foreign lands.”

After I Spy, the page continues, Cosby created and starred in The Bill Cosby Show, which premiered on NBC in September 1969. (This series preceded the more famous The Cosby Show, a cultural phenomenon that aired on the same network from 1984-1992.) Compared to the other networks, NBC was ahead of the curve “for the equitable portrayal of minorities on TV.” The National Association of Radio and Television Broadcasters “followed NBC’s example with its members pledging that ‘racial or nationality types shall not be shown on television in such matter as to ridicule the race or nationality.”

There’s a section break, followed by a discussion of the mixed-bag of opportunities afforded to Black creatives through the 1950s and 1960s—from the pernicious Beulah and Amos ‘n’ Andy to the more positive if politically skittish Julia (starring Diahann Carroll) and The Bill Cosby Show. The last paragraph on page 99 ends in media res with a description of how the premiere of Cosby’s new show “illustrates how Cosby’s modus operandi was to approach a relevant social issue only to gingerly sidestep it,” which continues on page 100.

Page 99 comes little more than a third of the way into the seventh chapter of a ten-chapter critical study, twelve counting the “Intro” and “Outro.” For readers who turned to it without context, the page would be misleading in terms of content but an accurate example of my overall approach. I should take pains to emphasize that Bill Cosby is not a major figure in the book, nor is he even the primary subject of the chapter. Chapter 7 concerns Melvin Van Peebles, and uses his episode for The Bill Cosby Show, “Really Cool,” as a case study for how he transitioned (briefly) to television in between a pair of significant motion pictures, Watermelon Man and Sweet Sweetback’s Baadasssss Song. My chapter posits that “Really Cool” serves as a bridge between the two films in terms of technique (blending the aesthetics of American sitcoms with the French New Wave [Van Peebles lived in France for several years prior to returning to the States]) and theme (the historical and political meanings of Melvin Donaldson’s “image of the ‘running black man’”). I discuss how Van Peebles undercuts Cosby’s persona throughout the episode. I also observe that Melvin Van Peebles and Orson Welles (the subject of Chapter 4) had more in common than one might think.

As I explain in the Intro, Television is Where You Find It “offers a tour through an earlier period of television, with ten feature filmmakers who made the transition to TV as our collective guide.” Spanning the years 1955-1990, my book begins with Alfred Hitchcock and ends with David Lynch, with (in addition to Van Peebles and Welles) Leo McCarey, Ida Lupino, Budd Boetticher, Michael Powell, George Cukor, and Martin Scorsese heading the chapters in between. Also from my Intro: “Each chapter blends critical analysis of the particular episode in question with broader context pertaining to the overall series, comparisons to other programs, the body of work of each filmmaker, and the wider culture of the era, using archival resources when available. Each case study gets woven into the whole.” Page 99 offers a taste of that.

Television is Where You Find It was a rigorous yet fun book to research and write, and I hope readers will find its connections and discoveries surprising, absorbing, and illuminating.

Learn more about Television Is Where You Find It at the Rutgers University Press website.

--Marshal Zeringue

Kieran J. O'Keefe's "Suffering for the Crown"

Kieran J. O'Keefe is Assistant Professor of History at Lyon College.

He applied the "Page 99 Test" to his new book, Suffering for the Crown: The Hudson Valley Loyalists and the Violence of Revolution, with the following results:

From page 99:

Although some of this violence was opportunistic freebooting, much of it was driven by a desire for revenge. In November 1777, soldiers under William Tryon’s command had burned homes on Philipsburg Manor. Continental general Samuel Holden Parsons wrote to Tryon, criticizing his attack, saying that there was “no benefit” whatsoever for burning the homes, and that it had been done solely to be cruel. He also chastised Tryon for stripping “women and children of necessary apparel to cover them from the severity of a cold night.” Parsons warned that he did not want to conduct war in this cruel manner, but that he would retaliate in kind if necessary. Tryon replied by reminding Parsons that Patriots had burned New York City in 1776 (as Tryon believed), leaving many more people exposed to a cold night than he had done in this attack. Because Tryon felt that Revolutionaries had refused to conduct the war in an honorable manner, he would not cease his aggressive tactics. Tryon added that he would “burn every Committee Man’s house within my reach” and that he was willing to offer a reward of twenty-five dollars for each committeeman brought to British lines.

This text explains some of the violence in Westchester County, New York, during the American Revolutionary War. Perhaps no county anywhere in the United States was more ravaged by the conflict than Westchester. The northern section of the county was controlled by the American Revolutionaries, the southern portion by the British, while the area in between was the "neutral ground," or really a violent no-man's land. The back-and-forth violence in Westchester County led to many retaliatory raids, including the one undertaken by Royal Governor William Tryon on page 99. In particular, Tryon vented his anger at members of committees of safety, which were revolutionary bodies overseeing the war effort on the local level, and which were generally responsible for suppressing Loyalist activity.

I think this excerpt gives readers a decent idea of what part of the book is about. Chapters two and three (this passage is from chapter three) look at the Revolution as a civil war in the Hudson Valley, which highlights the struggle between Patriots and Loyalists. But the remainder of the book goes in a different direction. Chapter four explores Loyalist reintegration after the war, while chapters five and six look at the experiences of Loyalists who went into exile, primarily in what is now Canada. Indeed, a major goal of the book is to see how a violent civil war shaped the Loyalists of the Hudson Valley down the road, which is not apparent in the excerpt. So, page 99 gives readers a flavor of the book without revealing its whole scope.

Learn more about Suffering for the Crown at the University of Virginia Press website.

--Marshal Zeringue

Chloe Chapin's "Suitable"

Chloe Chapin holds a PhD in American Studies from Harvard University and master's degrees in fashion and textile studies from the Fashion Institute of Technology and costume design from the Yale School of Drama. She has taught fashion history, costume design, gender studies, and anthropology. As a costume designer for over twenty years, her credits include Broadway musicals, opera, and Shakespeare.

Chapin applied the “Page 99 Test” to her new book, Suitable: The Sartorial Revolution and the Fashioning of Modern Men, and shared the following:

If you open Suitable to page 99, you will find yourself smack in the middle of a discussion about the historical evolution of the engineering of crotches of men’s trousers. The page details the nineteenth-century transition from tight, light-colored breeches and pantaloons (which proudly displayed men’s calves and genitals) to the roomier, darker trousers we recognize today. I note that as the construction of pants shifted, "a man was now forced to pick one leg-tube or the other for his genitals to occupy." This anatomical reality required bespoke tailors to ask clients which side they "dressed on" (left or right) so the pattern could be skillfully cut to accommodate them.

I laughed out loud when I turned to page 99. Readers opening to this page would get a fantastic—if perhaps unexpectedly intimate—idea of the whole book. While a reader might be momentarily caught off guard by the focus on male genitalia, this page does perfectly encapsulate the book's central thesis: the modern male suit is not a natural or neutral garment, but a highly engineered piece of technology designed to reshape and conceal the male body. The test works brilliantly here as a browser's shortcut to the book's core themes.

Suitable traces the "Sartorial Revolution" from the late eighteenth through the mid- nineteenth centuries, exploring how and why white men abandoned the colorful, decorative fashions of the aristocracy in favor of the plain, dark uniform of the modern suit (a shift I call “peacocks to penguins.”) Page 99 shows how this physical transformation happened on the body. By shrouding the legs and obscuring the groin with dark wool, the suit hid both physical vulnerability and overt sexuality. In its place, the suit projected an image of rational, democratic, and disembodied authority. The book argues that this shift wasn't just a matter of changing aesthetic tastes; it was a powerful political maneuver. The dark suit became a visual shorthand for civic virtue, helping to naturalize white male power by making it look inherently stable, unremarkable, and "plain."

Page 99 is also a good demonstration of my overall methodological approach. By combining my two decades of experience as a theatrical costume designer with traditional historical archives, I wanted to uncover the material reality of how these clothes actually fit, felt, and functioned. The page proves that the ubiquitous black suit was actually a radical, highly constructed political tool, built stitch by stitch and seam by seam.

Visit Chloe Chapin's website.

--Marshal Zeringue

Sarah M. S. Pearsall's "Freedom Round the Globe"

Sarah M. S. Pearsall is an award-winning historian with degrees from Yale, Harvard, and Cambridge, where she taught for nearly a decade. She is a professor in, and soon to be Chair of, the Department of History at Johns Hopkins. She wrote her new book, Freedom Round the Globe: A World History of the American Revolution, as both a National Endowment for the Humanities Public Scholar and Distinguished Fellow in the American Revolution at the British Library.

Pearsall applied the “Page 99 Test” to Freedom Round the Globe and reported the following:

Page 99 of Freedom Round the Globe focuses on the strategies of the royal governor of Virginia, John Murray, Earl of Dunmore to win popularity in the 1770s. Dunmore had few supporters in Virginia in 1774, given that he represented the British crown in a period of rising protests and that he was a member of a detested minority (Scots), to boot. In a bid to increase his popularity, he brought his wife and children to join him: a time-honored strategy to humanize politicians. He also started a war against Indigenous Americans, notably Shawnees, in order to placate settlers eager to move west into Indigenous homelands. This dark, not to say cynical, strategy resulted in Dunmore’s War in 1774, which even some Virginians at the time saw as a political ploy. Neither strategy worked for Dunmore, and the human costs were significant, especially for Native Americans.

Page 99 here is representative of the book in its linkages between events in the “thirteen colonies” and those in a wider world. Every chapter of the book starts outside the thirteen colonies in order to offer a new perspective on central ideals of the Declaration of Independence and the American Revolution. Page 99 is in Chapter 4, which begins in Edinburgh, Scotland, with an all-male debating society allowing women to join its audience to discuss happiness and other major topics. There is, then, a thread about Scotland and its connections with the American Revolution, shown here in the discussion of Dunmore. The book also considers consistently the fraught and often violent relations between settlers and Indigenous nations, as in this consideration of Dunmore’s War.

This section also sets up an examination (in the next chapter) of Lord Dunmore’s proclamation in November 1775, once fighting had begun. He offered freedom to enslaved men who fled their masters in order to take up arms for the British. In the eyes of Americans such as George Washington, such a move turned Dunmore from an unpopular governor into a villain. Virginia enslavers saw this decision as abject treachery, and it made some join the rebellion. It also meant that many more enslaved people fled to British lines to win freedom: an irony considering American Patriots considered themselves the defenders of liberty.

So, the Page 99 Test works here in showing global connections and in terms of setting up critical connections between the American Revolution, slavery, and settler violence.

Learn more about the book at the publisher's website.

The Page 99 Test: Polygamy: An Early American History.

--Marshal Zeringue

Cameron Seglias's "Settling Debt"

Cameron Seglias is Assistant Professor of American Studies, Goethe University Frankfurt am Main, Germany.

He applied the "Page 99 Test" to his new book, Settling Debt: Antislavery and Colonial Crisis, with the following results:

Page 99 analyzes several passages from the fascinating eighteenth-century Quaker Ralph Sandiford, an antislavery writer who is still not well known outside of specialist circles. In these passages, Sandiford reflects on the corruption of religious and political elites who profit from racialized slavery and the traffic in enslaved Africans. As I put it on page 99: “Sandiford’s point is that the ‘unrighteous’ enslaving ministers that ‘teach, or oversee, or discipline the Church...have lost their Savour of the Gospel.’ And as long as they continue to ‘preach to others, they...become Castaways, and draw their Flock with them to Perdition.’” In order to resist these enslavers, Sandiford felt that he must make his testimony public through printing his antislavery books. Like others before him (including John Milton), Sandiford believed in the centrality of press freedom for democracy and self-governance.

I still remember working on earlier drafts of what would eventually become page 99. There was something even then that made this page feel particularly dense to me. Perhaps this is because a number of central ideas of the book—especially around questions of religious and political authority—are knotted together in the material that is quoted and analyzed on this page. In other words, page 99 probably is not the best browser’s shortcut for my book, if only because too much context is needed to understand what is being said on it.

Even while I don’t think the Page 99 Test works for my book, the chapter of which page 99 is a part could serve as an entry into the book. The writer I focus on in that chapter (Ralph Sandiford) is a kind of key to unlocking the main arguments and themes of Settling Debt. It was while working on Sandiford’s writing that I figured out what my book is really about. I can sum this up in a quote from his work, in which he says that being involved with racialized slavery makes one a “Debtor and Oppressor in the Creation.”

Learn more about Settling Debt at the Cornell University Press website.

--Marshal Zeringue

Robert K. Brigham's "This Is a True War Story"

Robert K. Brigham is the Shirley Ecker Boskey Professor of History and International Relations at Vassar College. He is the author or coauthor of ten books, among them Reckless: Henry Kissinger and the Tragedy of Vietnam.

Brigham applied the “Page 99 Test” to his new book, This Is a True War Story: My Improbable History with Vietnam, and shared the following:

On page 99, my adopted sister and I are discussing our adoptive mother and her expectations that I make something of myself. She had a dim view toward men in general and she wanted me to be that rare exception...a good man.

Page 99 certainly deals with one of the many complicated relationships I had in my life as an adoptee, but it does not capture any of the major themes of the memoir. I would say that the Page 99 Test fails.

This memoir is about poverty, adoption, families, and war. It is about my lifelong search for my biological family, ending with the discovery that my biological father had been a major influence on my life without my knowing it.

Learn more about This Is a True War Story at the University of Chicago Press website.

--Marshal Zeringue

Daniel N. Jones's "Falling Fast"

Daniel N. Jones is Professor of Management in the College of Business at the University of Nevada Reno (UNR) and core faculty within the Interdisciplinary Social Psychology Program. His research explores the psychology of romantic attraction, deception, and personality--particularly emophilia and the Dark Triad traits--and how these forces shape behavior in contexts ranging from relationships to the workplace to cybersecurity. With a unique blend of scientific rigor and real-world relevance, Jones brings fresh insight into the emotional patterns that define how we love, trust, and connect.

He applied the “Page 99 Test” to his new book, Falling Fast: The Perils and Possibilities of Emophilia, and reported the following:

Page 99 defines emophilia again, which is the tendency to fall in love easily and often. Page 99 articulates how individuals high in emophilia are overly optimistic about how their relationships will turn out, making or loving unrealistic statements like “I will always be here for you.” The page further discusses how these statements are made in earnest and not manipulative. Even though individuals high in emophilia are often unfaithful, they care about their partner, they just find themselves torn between an old flame and a new passion. The chapter also differentiates emophilia (the tendency to fall in love easily and often), with polyamory. Polyamory is where someone maintains more than one love interest in several co-occurring relationships. It is possible that for a person in a polyamorous relationship, the simultaneous love interests may have taken a long time to form and this type of romantic attraction may not happen often. Individuals high in emophilia are beholden to their romantic emotions and often have a tough time deciding between multiple love interests and relationship options. They are in particular drawn to chance encounters and romantic narratives.

The Page 99 Test works reasonably well. I would say readers get a good idea of emophilia. They would get a basic and foundational idea of what emophilia is, an idea about what it is not, and see some unique features of this individual difference.

This page not only defines emophilia as the tendency to fall in love easily and often, it explains how they are unrealistic in their relationship perceptions. They believe they will love someone forever, when most evidence points to a pattern of frequently finding someone new. This unrealistic optimism about a relationship lasting forever is not manipulative, it is self-deceptive. The page also differentiates emophilia from relationship styles like polyamory. Someone can be high in emophilia and engage in polyamory. But someone may have only fallen in love twice, those love interests took a long time to develop, and they happen to have occurred at the same time in a polyamorous relationship. In such cases, the person may be polyamorous, but not high in emophilia. The page concludes with a statement about how romantic notions of “chance encounters” leading to love is popular with those high in emophilia as are the idea of “being there forever” for someone.

Visit Daniel N. Jones's website.

--Marshal Zeringue

Thomas Douglas's "Protecting Minds"

Thomas Douglas is Professor of Applied Philosophy and Director of Research at the Uehiro Oxford Institute, University of Oxford. He trained in clinical medicine (Otago) and philosophy (Oxford) and works chiefly in philosophical bioethics and neuroethics. His research has focussed especially on the ethics of using medical and neuroscientific technologies for non-therapeutic purposes, such as cognitive and moral enhancement, crime prevention, and infectious disease control. He is the author of over 130 academic articles or chapters and has led two major externally funded research projects: 'Neurointerventions in Crime Prevention: An Ethical Analysis' (Wellcome Trust, 2013-2019) and 'Protecting Minds: The Right to Mental Integrity and the Ethics of Arational Influence' (European Research Council, 2020-2025).

Douglas applied the "Page 99 Test" to his latest book, Protecting Minds: The Right Against Mental Interference, with the following results:

A reader who opened my book to page 99 would find themself in the midst of a discussion of what makes a mental state 'important'. The page starts with me suggesting that a mental state might be important because many other mental states depend on it. My belief that the scientific method is a reliable guide to the truth is an important mental state because of the pervasiveness of its effects on the rest of my mental life. But, I go on to suggest, a mental state can also be important because simply because I identify with it in some way, or ascribe it great importance. My attachment to a long deceased friend might be important because I regard it as such, even if it exerts very little influence on the rest of my mental life.

Why am I interested in the importance of mental states? Because my book examines the ethics of interfering with others' minds, and I think that the wrongness of a mental interference may depend on the magnitude of the interference, which may in turn depend on the importance of the interfered with mental-states (rather as the wrongness of a privacy breach might depend on the severity of the privacy breach, which might in turn depend on the sensitivity of the information that is revealed). In the second half of page 99, I turn to consider the question of whether, when assessing the magnitude and wrongness of a mental interference, we should take into account knock-on effects. Suppose you are feeling down, I slip a mood-boosting drug into your coffee, and you feel less gloomy as a result. Moreover, partly as a result of your diminished gloom over the coming days, you begin to develop a passion for model trains. On my view, the magnitude and wrongness of this interference will depend on how important your feeling of gloom was. But does it also depend on the importance of your passion, or lack of passion, for model trains? I am not sure, but that's the question I'm raising here.

Would a person who read only page 99 get a good taste of my book? Boringly, my answer is: in one way, 'yes', and in another way, 'no'. I am guessing a typical reader of this page might think something like: the questions here are interesting, but the style of the answer is dry and pedantic. That's probably a good reflection of the whole book--read it only if you like dry and pedantic! But the reader of page 99 finds themselves in the midst of a discussion that is in many ways a tangent, or at least, is not part of the main thread of the book's argument.

The book's main argument is for the view that all of us possess a right against interference with our minds--analogous to the better-accepted right against interference with our bodies--and for a particular account of the scope of this right. On the account I defend, we are wronged not only by drastic forms of mind-control, like the covert administration of mind-altering drugs, but also by some of the more familiar forms of influence or manipulation that we are repeatedly exposed to online.

Learn more about Protecting Minds at the Oxford University Press website.

--Marshal Zeringue

Amelia Frank-Vitale's "Leave If You Can"

Amelia Frank-Vitale is an Assistant Professor of Anthropology and International Affairs at Princeton University. An anthropologist of migration and violence in Central America and Mexico, Frank-Vitale has documented the dangers facing people migrating across Mexico and the strategies they develop – including coming together in caravans – to manage those risks and defy restrictions on movement. Her new book, Leave If You Can: Migration and Violence in Bordered Worlds, examines how Honduran youth navigate life after deportation, illuminating the changing nature of deportation as a consequence of the externalization of borders and connecting regimes of mobility control - and the creative ways people challenge them - across scale and space.

Frank-Vitale applied the “Page 99 Test” to her new book, Leave If You Can: Migration and Violence in Bordered Worlds, and shared the following:

Page 99 includes this quote, first in Spanish, then in English:

Si a mí, un niño me dice, “Profe, yo me voy,” yo lo que puedo hacer es tomar su mano, si tengo dinero, dárselo, decirle que le vaya bien, que Espero que Dios lo cuide, lo guarde en ese camino, y que llegue. (If a child comes to me and says, “profe, I’m leaving,” all I can do is take their hand, if I have money, give it to the, wish them well, and say that I hope that God protects them and takes care of them on this journey and that they make it.)

The Profe here is a teacher at two elementary schools in San Pedro Sula, Honduras. He makes multiple appearances in the book, but the scene on this page is of a day I spent with him during which he was participating in a government-NGO pilot program to teach children about the dangers of migrating, aimed at reducing out-migration. Page 99 begins halfway into another lengthy quote in Spanish, but the English is there in full, telling me how he feels about having to participate in these activities:

“I’m giving this talk here, telling the youth not to go. But this is a hypocritical talk, I feel like a hypocrite… the government comes and says to me, give this talk so the children don’t migrate. But what opportunity does the state give to this child? There is no opportunity. I feel like a hypocrite…You can tell people that they are going to get taken by the Zetas. You tell them that they’ll fall from the train, that they’ll lose a leg. You tell them that in the United States they are going to be in prison… but the people say I prefer that to staying here… I go because in Honduras they chop people up, they leave them in sacks along the side of the road… How am I going to tell a young person not to migrate, with what moral authority?”

This quote, on this page, is a remarkably fitting condensation of the themes this book addresses: young people growing up in a Honduras surrounded by the ever-present possibility of extreme violence and a negligent, abandoning state; youth leaving Honduras, again and again, and knowing exactly why they are leaving without imagining that migration will be easy or safe; and, finally, that the punitive and violent immigration enforcement of the United States does not deter people from trying to get to the place where they feel like they’ll have a better chance of making the life they want for themselves. There are other dynamics also present in the book – the nature of border externalization, the history and impact of migrant caravans, the relationship that gangs have to neighborhood-by-neighborhood territorial control, the ordinary violence of mass deportations – but the core argument of the book is that deportation produces more movement, not less. Page 99 captures both that essential assertion and the way in which it is grounded throughout the book in the close up, fine grained ethnographic field work I did in San Pedro Sula.

Another aspect of the book that this page brings out: the interspersing of the original Spanish quotes followed by their English translation. Though this is not necessarily standard form for books like this, I wanted to retain the Spanish for two reasons. First, I think it’s a way of bringing more readers with varying degrees of bilingualism more directly into the social worlds depicted in the book. Then, while all the fieldwork for the book was conducted in Spanish, it is not my first language. I wanted to ensure that Spanish-speakers, especially Honduran Spanish-speakers, could access the words and stories in the language in which they were spoken as much as possible. We carry a lot of responsibility to tell the stories that are entrusted to us in the most responsible way possible; including the original words, as I did with the Profe on page 99, is one way I try to do that.

Visit Amelia Frank-Vitale's website.

--Marshal Zeringue