If the road to hell is paved with good intentions, Malcolm Gladwell’s “Talking to Strangers” is a hell of a book.

Distressed by Sandra Bland’s death in a Texas jail cell after a traffic stop gone wrong, Mr. Gladwell (“The Tipping Point,” “Outliers,”) wrote his latest work with two specific goals in mind: keeping Ms. Bland’s memory alive, and preventing future tragedies.

His solution? A scientific look at the way we communicate with strangers. Understanding how and why we judge people we don’t know, he argues, will enable us to treat them with the same dignity and respect we demand for ourselves.

At least, in theory. Mr. Gladwell’s sincere attempt to prevent similar tragedies with science, however, oversimplifies them with uncomfortable ease.

Case in point: Mr. Gladwell describes the string of black deaths that includes Michael Brown, Philando Castille and Eric Garner as a “strange interlude in American public life.” Social media and the 24/​7 news cycle may have made anti-black violence more visible, but that particular cruelty has been as American as apple pie since 1619.

It doesn’t help that Mr. Gladwell finds most discussions of Ms. Bland’s death “deeply unsatisfying” because “[e]ach side was right, in its own way.” Falling headfirst into the balance fallacy by invoking sides is never a good sign, and some readers may feel he should have known better. Given their desire for solutions and certainty, however, most of them will press on.

Having dismissed everything else as irrelevant, Mr. Gladwell dives headfirst into his thesis and supporting evidence, presenting a mountain of quirky anecdotes and interesting research about our blunders with strangers, and why we make them.

It’s what Mr. Gladwell’s fans have come to love and expect from his work, and it’s definitely engaging. But even accomplished writers occasionally bite off more than they can chew: The sheer amount of information Mr. Gladwell includes soon proves impossible to discuss with the focus and attention to detail it deserves.

The patchwork quilt of anecdotes includes analyses of various high-profile scandals. Jerry Sandusky, Brock Turner and other infamous household names are examined in their turn, with each case illustrating a particular element of communication failure. The result is a paradox: While it’s fascinating to peek at these incidents through Mr. Gladwell’s psychological lens, readers may wish he had explored fewer examples more thoroughly.

Having flung an arsenal of scientific and anecdotal data at his readers, Mr. Gladwell returns to Sandra Bland to test his thesis with a detailed analysis of the evidence. Whether or not readers will agree with his interpretation and conclusions relies heavily on their personal understanding of power: who has it, who doesn’t, and what its imbalances look like.

The book’s biggest flaw is, in fact, its failure to consider power’s role in conflict. Understanding the science behind how and why our encounters with strangers go wrong is both interesting and useful; nevertheless, strangers often meet on unequal footing: when that happens, all the kindness in the world won’t magically resolve any structural imbalances between them.

An author who never flies too close to the sun might as well not fly, and it’s clear that Mr. Gladwell means well. “Talking to Strangers” partially succeeds by reminding readers that Sandra Bland should be alive today.

The Gordian knot behind her death, however, can’t be sliced away by any one writer, no matter how noble his intentions. Readers looking for a more nuanced take on the issues Mr. Gladwell raises should also read (or re-read) Michelle Alexander’s “The New Jim Crow,” then check out Angela J. Ritchie’s “Invisible No More.”

Leigh Anne Focareta is a freelance writer and friendly neighborhood librarian.

First Published: September 6, 2019, 12:00 p.m.