You might not know it, but we are currently living in the golden age of non-fiction. Seriously. I realize that this may come as news to the many excellent and underpaid authors who struggle to secure a good living from writing about our world, in long form. However, for more topics than it would occur to you to look for, there are authors who have immersed themselves in it for a year or more, and come back with a book to tell you what they found. I have read excellent books on the pigeon, the rat, dust, bees, clouds, traffic, and so many other topics. Each one took me only a few dozen hours to read, but it took the person who wrote them thousands of hours to create (I'm guessing), and it's buried in a sea of other excellent choices. This doesn't happen in the early or the declining years of a field. This is what it means to live in something's Golden Age. It's the Golden Age of non-fiction, right now, and you're living in it.
As an example: this book, on paper. My favorite factoid from this book is that the NSA, yes, that NSA, is a major producer of recycled paper. It turns out that pulping and recycling paper is as secure (perhaps more secure) than burning it, and much more secure than shredding. The East German secret police learned, to their sorrow, that just because you've shredded something doesn't mean a sufficiently motivated populace with high-tech scanning and computing technology can't reconstruct it.
We see the company that creates the paper used in U.S. currency, and learn that they produce the paper for several other countries' currency as well. We learn that both mud tablets (used for cuneiform) and papyrus each lasted about as long as the dominant writing medium, as paper has by now. We learn about the process of the young nation of America learning to make its own paper, instead of importing the stuff from England or elsewhere. We learn about the notebooks of Da Vinci, Beethoven (who used them to communicate with others later in life, so that we have a one-sided record of his conversations), Babbage, and Edison.
If I have any quibble with the book, it is that the last chapter is on the enormous amounts (and variety) of paper found in the vicinity of the Twin Towers after the terrorist attacks of 9/11. I'm not saying it wasn't worth a chapter, as it was a unique look at how much paper is still, in the 21st century, being used, and how many ways it can be used. It was an odd and melancholy way to end the book, though.
Because, as it turns out, paper's future at this point looks pretty bright. My own personal surreptitious counting of paper books vs. e-readers, on the public bus system of Austin, seems to suggest that the e-readers have been nearly eliminated by the cellphone, but the presence of paper books has, if anything, increased in the last couple years. Figures from national book publishers in 2015 tell a similar story.
It's the Golden Age of non-fiction, right now, and you're living in it. It doesn't mean, that it will last forever, necessarily. So, take advantage of it.