- Miyoung Yoon
- Jun 6
- 3 min read

Ziya Tong’s The Reality Bubble explores how humans are blind to the natural world, the inner workings of our society, and even the technologies we’ve created. These tools, while meant to help us understand our world, often end up confining us.
I found the book incredibly entertaining and eye-opening from multiple perspectives.
As a designer focused on visual communication, I’ve long been aware that humans can only perceive a limited range of colors. But the book broadened my perspective by showing how animals experience the world differently. Some species, thanks to extra photoreceptor cones in their eyes, can see ultraviolet light or detect a wider spectrum of colors. While we often assume animals are less intelligent than humans, they actually outperform us in unique ways. For instance, scientists have discovered that certain species of fish can recognize and differentiate between human faces.
Plants also possess a form of intelligence. Trees communicate through underground root and fungal networks, warning each other about dangers or sharing nutrients. Tong supports this idea with scientific evidence, including a quote from the chapter “I to Eye”:
“Convergent evidence indicates that non-human animals have neuroanatomical, neurochemical, and neurophysiological substrates of conscious states along with the capacity to exhibit intentional behaviors.” (p. 95)
As a mother of two, the chapter “Recipe for Disaster” was especially jarring. It reveals just how disconnected we are from the origins of our food, and how we often choose not to know. Only twelve plant species and five animal species make up three-quarters of the global food supply. The cruelty embedded in industrial food systems is something we rarely question.
I was also surprised to learn that much of our drinking water doesn't come from rain or snowmelt, as I had assumed, but from ancient underground reserves. This "fossil water" is a key resource for modern agriculture.
The book also unpacks the reality behind factory farming, a term that can sound deceptively neutral. Gustavus Franklin Swift, a Chicago meatpacker, invented the conveyor belt system still used today. In his system, every part of the animal was commodified. Guts became tennis racket strings, fat was used in soap, bones were turned into fertilizer, and hooves became glue. When I told my 7-year-old daughter that the gelatin in her gummy bears comes from animal bones, skins, and connective tissues, she was shocked and disgusted.
“Cognitive dissonance is really just a name for the discomfort we feel when we both know something and avoid knowing it.”
Humans consume and waste on a massive scale, often without realizing how this impacts our ecosystem. We believe we own and control nature, but what does ownership really mean? If we claim a piece of land, do we also claim the trees and wildlife within it?
Tong argues that our blind spots extend beyond biology and society to the foundations of our civilization. We invented time, measurements, and social rules for convenience, but these constructs also imprison us.
As a Geographic Information Systems student, I found Chapter 8, “Space Invaders,” particularly intriguing. It prompted me to reconsider something as basic as a meter or an inch. I learned that a meter is scientifically defined as:
“a length equal to 1,650,763.73 wavelengths of the orange light emitted by the krypton-86 atom in a vacuum.”
That was a fun fact I’ll never forget.
The book shows how even abstract systems like borders, maps, or units of space can shape conflicts, enforce inequality, and divide the rich and the poor. These artificial boundaries deeply affect our social and economic lives.
Tong ends the book by highlighting three major blind spots in our life-support system: where our food comes from, where our energy comes from, and where our waste goes. In an age when cameras are everywhere, these areas remain hidden, often by design.
