There is one thing a book cannot do, and this is the page where it becomes obvious.
A book can set out a situation, offer a framework, mark honestly what it knows from what it believes, and describe a practice. It cannot perform the practice. That asymmetry is not a limitation of this book; it is the structure of the subject. Nobody has ever been argued into a different life.
Which means the useful question is not whether you agree. Agreement is cheap and changes nothing; I have agreed with a great many things I did not do. The question is narrower and more uncomfortable: is there one sentence in these pages that named something you already knew and had been declining to act on?
If there is, that is the whole of what this book was for. Everything else — the parts, the figures, the vocabulary — was scaffolding to get you to that sentence.