Urban expert John Rossant and business journalist Stephen Baker look beyond the false promises of the past to examine the real future of transportation and the repercussions for the world's cities, the global economy, the environment, and our individual lives. Human mobility, dominated for a century by cars and trucks, is facing a dramatic transformation. Over the next decade, new networked devices, from electric bikes to fleets of autonomous cars, will change the way we move. They will also disrupt major industries, from energy to cars, give birth to new mobility giants, and lead to a redesign of our cities. For Rossant and Baker, this represents the advance of the Information Revolution into the physical world. This will raise troubling questions about surveillance, privacy, the dangers from hackers and the loss of jobs. But it also promises startling efficiencies, which could turn our cities green and, perhaps, save our planet. In an engaging, deeply reported book, the authors travel to mobility hotspots, from Helsinki to Shanghai, to scout out this future. And they visit the companies putting it together. One, Divergent3d, is devising a system to manufacture cars with robots and 3D printers. PonyAI, a Chinese-Silicon Valley startup, builds autonomous software that perceives potholes, oncoming trucks, and wayward pedestrians, and guides the vehicle around them. Voom, an Airbus subsidiary, is racing with dozens of others to operate fleets of air taxis that fly by themselves. Hop, Skip, Go is about us: billions of people on the move. Underlying each stage of mobility, from foot to horse to cars and jets, are the mathematics of three fundamental variables: time, space and money. We measure each trip we take, whether to Kuala Lumpur or the corner drugstore. As the authors make clear, the coming mobility revolution will be no different. As they unveil the future, the authors explore how these changes might revamp our conception of global geography, the hours in our days, and where in the world we might be able to go.

'I believe this book will change the conversation in schools on children's behaviour.' - Dr Luna Centifanti A School Without Sanctions offers an innovative approach to behaviour management in schools, prioritising compassion and behaviour modification over punishment. Drawing on their award-winning methods, Steven Baker and Mick Simpson explain why challenging behaviour occurs and provide a toolbox of non-confrontational approaches that will benefit the whole school community. When Steven and Mick set out to transform their school's approach to behaviour, it changed everything. With the help of Dr Alice Jones Bartoli at Goldsmiths, they developed a sanction-free approach in their special school for boys with social, emotional and mental health (SEMH) difficulties. Far from descending into anarchy, lessons began to improve and student-staff relationships flourished. The school is now rated outstanding in all areas, and more importantly, student outcomes have been remarkable. Steven and Mick apply this experience, as well as their work in pupil referral units and young offender institutions, to explore their strategies for managing behaviour without the need for zero tolerance, discussing exclusions, trauma, motivation and engagement along the way. Rooted in neuroscience and evolutionary psychology, this book will revolutionise the way you think about behaviour management, help boost student mental health and academic achievement, and protect teacher wellbeing.

On Bloody Sunday, January 30, 1972, British paratroopers killed thirteen innocent men in Derry. It was one of the most controversial events in the history of the Northern Ireland conflict and also one of the most mediated. The horror was recorded in newspapers and photographs, on TV news and current affairs, and in film and TV drama. In a cross media analysis that spans a period of almost forty years up to the publication of the Saville Report in 2010, "The British Media and Bloody Sunday" identifies two countervailing impulses in media coverage of Bloody Sunday and its legacy: an urge in the press to rescue the image and reputation of the British Army versus a troubled conscience in TV current affairs and drama about what was done in Britain's name. In so doing, it suggests a much more complex set of representations than a straightforward propaganda analysis might allow for, one that says less about the conflict in Ireland than it does about Britain, with its loss of empire and its crisis of national identity.