He's fond of noting the gulf between the humdrum existence of the people he meets and the grand and inspiring lives of the ancient Greeks or the cathedral-builders of the Middle Ages or some other grand historical figure or practice that can be invoked to indicate the triviality of the present-day occupation he is contemplating.

It can be an effective rhetorical device, but it has to be used sparingly. De Botton is not sparing, with the result that by the end of the book it has long since lost its force. To be told that Mojave, in California, doesn't have a centre "where citizens could gather for fellowship, javelin contests and philosophical debate, as they had done, according to most historical accounts, in Athens in the age of Pericles" doesn't help you understand anything about Mojave, or Periclean Athens. Once again, you get the sneaking suspicion that the only reason it is there at all is to demonstrate that de Botton has a range of cultural reference that the people he meets do not.

It is all frustrating, because de Botton clearly has a powerfully incisive intelligence, which, if he applied it to something other than his own self, would result in a great deal of insight and illumination. As it is, this book reads as if written by someone who is not really trying: he knows he can do very well without exercising himself too hard, so he doesn't bother. You can't blame him for that, of course. But I hope for his next book, he writes about topics that require him to do a little more homework.