It seems like the overwhelming negative sentiment for the author's previous book has caused him to mellow out on some of his harsher opinions, and made for a generally useful and enjoyable work in the end. (I also avoided reading that book due to these criticisms, only skimming some sections.)
That said, some remnants of the near-fascistic thinking that coloured that book are left over in this one, albeit in a much less problematic form.
The most immediate example is the implication that games not following a "clockwork" game design approach, being rather derisively called "patchwork" games, must "brute-force" their way to a successful design via an expansive development budget, which is a deeply inaccurate way of thinking about game development.
Some of the games labelled as "patchworks" also raise concerns about just how deeply the author has engaged with his own ideas. One instance of a patchwork game, according to the book, is Civilization. To me, Civilization can very easily thought of as a "clockwork" game with a minor mental adjustment, which would be to restructure the definition of "full core" provided in the book to accommodate different contextual applications of the core mechanic if the game's structure calls for it. With that alteration, Civilization can be described as a clockwork game with this description: "A game where you issue commands to units and structures in order to reach any victory condition before your enemies reach one." Here the core mechanic is "issue commands", the goal is "reach any victory condition..." and the context is "to units and structures", which covers everything from developing technologies and beginning productions to building roads and attacking enemies. This is less precise, sure, but clearly more useful in being conducive to great designs such as Civilization or StarCraft.
There are some nitpick-worthy sections in the book as well. For starters, I don't buy the idea that some games have "no themes". Games that don't overtly engage with their themes either emergently create themes out of human cognitive engagement (as with Tetris: I've heard multiple people describe it in terms of chaos and order), or they start with a theme which over time gets eroded, albeit remaining present in the game design (chess, go and backgammon are like this; it's rather amusing how the author pretends to try to fit a military theme onto go in a backwards way, as though its players don't already use military strategy jargon to talk about the game).
As another nitpick, the way the author talks about Smash Bros.'s secondary mechanics makes me wonder if he's ever played a fighting game before, and how much his ideas about games might change if he were to play more of them. He seems to think blocking is totally unnecessary, and throws are another layer of unnecessary fluff that only exists to band-aid over the existence of blocks. Surprisingly, just a few pages later, the author mentions rock-paper-scissors designs as being quite condusive to gameplay depth, seeming not realizing their relevance to hit-block-throw systems.
All that being said, I fully subscribe to the author's ideas about elegance, emergence over inherent complexity, and good and bad being defined in terms of proximity/movement relative to the goal. This is clearly a healthy outlook on how to create a particular type of game—if not for the last chapter of the book, which showcases the author's deathly fear of creating games that have any appeal in a field other than core ruleset. He talks about asymmetric design, narrative, novelty and a host of other common and obvious properties of many good games, mentioning how they're dangerous for his way of design; as if avoiding such dangers is in any way likelier to lead to a successful experience than actually engaging with them.
Overall, this is an extremely conservative viewpoint on game design that I can't imagine ever having much of an impact in how people design and play games. For all its valuable ideas, it has multiple questionable or downright baffling ones, and the narrowness of its scope puts more onus on the author to prove his mettle by coming up with a culturally significant, great game to act as a proof of concept. Sadly, he has been unable to provide this as of this review, with his most recent commercial release being panned due to both a seeming failure of execution on the ideals of clockwork design, and for its refusal to engage with all those other interesting aspects of game design. I am hopeful that one day we will see the author design the perfect—or at least deeply illustrative—clockwork game, and prove that even existing clockwork games like go and Tetris are feasible to be created with an approach that can be explained and put into words in the clear, compacted manner of this book.