Review: The Art of Lean Software Development: A Practical and Incremental Approach

Authors: Curt Hibbs, Steve Jewett, and Mike Sullivan Format: Paperback, 142 pages Publisher: O'Reilly Media, Inc.; 1st edition (February 2, 2009) ISBN-10: 0596517319 ISBN-13: 978-0596517311 What is Lean Software Development? Fortunately, that's an OK question to ask if you are reading this book. It's not written for developers who are well versed in "lean" or "agile" development. That's good for the rest of us. For instance, in my "day job" we are slowly moving towards a more Agile development model. I suppose if some folks around here weren't all that sure what "agile" meant, reading up on it would be helpful. That's the sort of role this book hopes to fill relative to "lean", with the understanding that the "pro-lean subculture" is well associated with Agile development. The book is lean. I mean that in the plain meaning of the word. It's a short book at only 142 pages and each of its nine chapters is less than 20 pages long. The idea, according to the Preface, is to avoid "padding our chapters with useless fluff". Like a string held taught between two tin cans or a tightly focused laser beam, the book attempts to describe the shortest distance between two points; between start and destination. Actually, the last sentence in the last chapter states, "Remember, Lean is a journey, not a destination", so I guess my review is already somewhat inaccurate. "Lean" then is the string or the laser beam. As you may have guessed by now, the process of Lean development is to make software development..."lean". That is, it's what government is always proposing to do; to use less resources and produce superior results more effectively (I'll avoid my usual commentary on the whole "stimulus package" theory of "lean" or "anti-lean" in its case). The first chapter in the book establishes why lean is a good idea and where it came from. In order for you to be interested in the book, the authors must first sell the reader on the desirability of lean development. The use of the term "subculture" a few paragraphs back was not really a euphemism. Lean development even has it's own "glossary" of sorts, which is also presented in Chapter 1. Like any philosophy, it comes with it's own "mindset" and "world view" relative to software development (and beyond). Considering its Japanese origins, the ideal of group cooperation in any endeavour is both espoused in the lean development vision and within the pages of this book. Certainly the authors wrote their book with that philosophy in mind and it makes sense. The short definition of Lean development is to reduce a series of tasks to the simplest set of steps possible. Why use two words to say something when you can do it with one? At the same time, accuracy and making the product work can't be sacrificed for the sake of simplicity of design or speed of delivery. It's interesting that one of the values of Lean development is respecting people (which is also a very Japanese value). You wouldn't normally think of the humanity of software development, but coders are human too, as are the rest of the employees of any software development outfit, and as well as their customers. That also works (at least in theory) across the boundaries between management and line staff; hiring people who know what they're doing and then trusting that they'll do their jobs. I know a few "micromanagers" who could benefit from reading at least this part of the book (no one I've worked for recently, thankfully). At this juncture (or before), you may have asked yourself, "What's the difference between agile and lean"? Apparently, not much, according to the authors, at least on the surface of the goals. Both philosophies and methods claim to do what all managers want to do with their companies; make a superior product more efficiently, using less time, personnel, and money. The underlying "mindset" is where the two paths diverge. Agile is more focused around the specific process of software development, while Lean casts a wider net and includes software development within the larger business context. The book functions as a beginner's primer on Lean software development, describing the philosophy and basic design of Lean development. It's not easy to describe a philosophy using a lean process since the concept of philosophy tends to be somewhat long winded (not unlike myself). The book is sprinkled with little real-life examples, like bread crumbs, from the lives of the authors, briefly illustrating the points to be made along the trail of the book's pages. That's good, because such content doesn't easily lend itself to longer tomes, such as the 430 pages of Shore and Warden's The Art of Agile Development (it's a good book, but you have to really want or need to read it). The benefit of the last chapter, "What's Next?" is that it allows the book to be "lean" and at the same time, doesn't leave the reader hanging in mid-air. Actually, it's the resources listed in the Appendix that shows the reader the roadmap to the next part of the territory, based in the book's bibliography. Despite the "Using Code Examples" section in the Preface, this is a book about concept and not about mechanics. In other words, there are no code examples and no supplementary website for the book. The book is a brief template to be applied to your actual practice, not the practice itself. I can take philosophy in limited doses before I must return to my bolts and my wrenches. Fortunately, Hibbs, Jewett, and Sullivan had people like me in mind when they wrote this book. If you are a manager who is considering moving to a more focused software development model and is wondering if "lean" is for you and your company, it wouldn't hurt to have your first introduction to Lean software development be The Art of Lean Software Development: A Practical and Incremental Approach. At least you will find out fast if you want to explore that path more completely after sailing through the book.

Review: Python Web Development with Django

Authors: Jeff Forcier, Paul Bissex, and Wesley Chun Format: Paperback, 408 pages Publisher: Addison-Wesley Professional; 1st edition (November 3, 2008) ISBN-10: 0132356139 ISBN-13: 978-0132356138 I have something of a relationship with both Python and Django, the latter because I use Django more or less regularly to contribute my portion of an application (which shall remain nameless for the moment) that my company ("my" in the sense that I work there, not that I actually own anything) is developing. I'm already sold on the relative simplicity and power of Python based on my attempts to hammer away with the language, so this book, at least as far as the topic is concerned, is everything I could ask for. But can the same be said for the content of the book? I was going to say "first things first" and then proceed to the target audience for the book, but there's another point to make before that. The little "button" on the front cover says "Covers Django 1.0". I visited the Django Project and on the download page (as of this morning, February 23rd) it says, "The latest official version is 1.0.2. Here's how to get it". Assuming you want to use the latest version of Django, having a book that presents the latest information (well, as recent as any print documentation can be) is an enormous advantage. As a small aside, the download page also states, "Python version 2.3 or higher" is required, so you don't have to be using latest version of the non-backward compatible Python 3 to use the latest version of Django (of course "or higher" can be interpreted more than one way). The second page of the Preface does something cool, if you aren't sure how much of this book applies to you. There's a little diagram that outlines the four skill/experience levels for readers, and which chapters are relevant to you depending on which level applies to you. "Brand New to Django and Python" starts you off at Chapter 1 which is to be expected, but some Python experience (but no Django) gets you going, starting at Chapter 2. Some experience with both puts you beginning at Chapter 4, and advanced learners can skip ahead to Chapter 11. At least as far as the authors' predictions go, this book has something for everyone. The book has a website, which is more or less expected these days. http://withdjango.com/ contains "auxiliary material" that is referenced in different sections of the book. Click the "Material for Readers" link and you're taken to links called "Extra resources" and "Source code downloads"; the meaning of the latter link being quite obvious. The page that becomes available by clicking the former link is a "linkfest" of Python and Django resources of every conceivable type, even if they are only barely related to the topic at hand (such as links to the official Firefox, jQuery, and Vim websites). However, back to the book. As previously mentioned, this book has something for everyone, even if you aren't familiar with Python. I say "everyone" in the context some people who have some coding experience and frankly, I wouldn't recommend this book as your first experience with Python if you hope to really learn the language. As author Wesley Chun can attest, entire books have been written on Python, so please don't assume that a single chapter will tell you all you'll need to know. That said, it should teach the experienced programmer what they'll need to know as far as a foundation for working with Django. I do recommend picking up a Python tome of some sort to strengthen that foundation, however. The 56 pages comprising Chapter 1 are just enough to whet the appetite. Chapter 2 is aptly named, "Django for the Impatient: Building a Blog". Most people learning a new technology, myself included, want to get at it right away. Few things are more frustrating than picking up a book expecting to learn to actually do something, and then discovering you have to wade through 200 to 300 pages of concept and theory before you learn to even say "Hello World!". In fact, this chapter almost literally has the reader "hitting the ground running" by putting him or her on a "deadline" to see how fast they can build a simple blog using Django. You've only got 19 pages, so you'd better hurry. Only when you've accomplished this task are you ready (according to the book) to really get started using Django as Chapter 3, "Starting Out" testifies to. You might think it's a step back, because the chapter is mostly concept, but hopefully you'll still be basking in the glow of building that first blog with Django, so moving through a concept chapter won't be as much of a chore. With the foundation now firmly laid, the book proceeds to more in-depth information. The book tries to create a balance between concept and practice and it's a delicate balance indeed. I'm not sure it's entirely successful, but it does its best. If you're looking for a simple "how to" book, this might be a disappointment. The book presents both the "how" and the "why" of Python and Django. Also, although some "beginner" information is presented early in the book, as I said before, don't let this book be your first and only Python learning experience. Without some additional background, you are going to become quickly lost as you advance through the latter pages of this text. At only 408 pages including the appendix sections, you dare not blink while reading this book. All of the relevant information is present and accounted for, but there's no fluff or padding to cushion you. Section Five is complete with a number of "Appendices" (or "Appendixes", take your pick) including "Command Line Basics", the obligatory "Installing and Running Django", and so on. This should help the beginner become reoriented, if they've lost their course somewhere in the book. If you have some programming and web development background, even if Python and Django are new to you, this book should be very helpful, as long as you can tolerate it's laser-like focus and intensity. If you have Python experience, so much the better. If you find yourself slowly getting in over your head, try reading books like Chun's Core Python Programming (2nd Ed) or Mark Lutz's Learning Python before proceeding with the Django book. Whatever you do though, have fun.

The Alois and Marie Goldmann Scholarship

Jane Freund, Owner and President at Freundship Press LLC, posted the following in the Boise State Alumni group discussion board at LinkedIn:

I am asking for your help in spreading the word about the Alois and Marie Goldmann scholarship, which is named for my paternal great-grandparents who made the ultimate sacrifice with their decision to send their son, my father George Freund, to America. Here are more details: Alois and Marie Goldmann raised their orphaned grandson, George Freund, in Vienna from 1936 to 1938. After the Anschluss, they sent him to America to be raised by an aunt and uncle. They remained behind in Czechoslovakia. The Germans placed them in Theresienstadt Ghetto. In 1944 the Goldmanns were shipped to Poland to the Auschwitz concentration camp where they were murdered immediately after arrival. The scholarship is open to graduating Idaho high school seniors or home school graduates who will be attending an Idaho college or university in the fall of 2009. To preserve the memory of the Goldmanns and other Holocaust victims, applicants are asked to write an essay or formal research paper on the Holocaust. The submittal should not be general but must deal with some specific aspect of the Holocaust ofthe applicant's own choosing. The application deadline is April 1, 2009 and this year's scholarship will be approximately $1,200. Please help spread the word about this scholarship by sharing this information with people whom you think would be interested! If you have any questions or would like a copy of the scholarship application, send an e-mail to me (Jane Freund) at goldmannscholarship at gmail.com or visit the Idaho Community Foundation website at http://www.idcomfdn.org. Thanks so much! Jane Freund PS -- I am also available to come to schools and talk about the Holocaust, Dad's story and the scholarship so please feel free to contact me if you or somebody you know is interested.

A very worthy cause. I couldn't find such a wonderful description of the scholarship on the idcomfdn.org site, so I decided to post the info on my blog, then pass it along via other online conduits. In one sense, it's an "Idaho only" piece of data, but it has implications that reach much farther. Thanks for the "heads up", Jane.

Review: David Pogue's Digital Photography: The Missing Manual

Author: David Pogue (who else?) Format: Paperback, 304 pages Publisher: Pogue Press (January 22, 2009) ISBN-10: 0596154038 ISBN-13: 978-0596154035 Update: March 10, 2009 I never made it to the Pacific Ocean during my trip to California, but I did take my wee digital camera to the Capital Street Bridge that crosses the Boise River near BSU. I posted the pics to Picasa just so you can view my first efforts. I didn't do anything to the photos besides a bit of cropping, so what you see is what you get. If you're interested, you can post comments (be nice, these are my first photos in a very long time) and suggestions. Capital Street Bridge in Winter. Peace. I'll admit that I've used a digital camera on occasion. That's probably an odd admission, since taking photographs with a digital camera is about the same thing as driving with a car these days. Let me explain. I haven't really been "into" taking pictures for quite sometime, even at "family events" or on other occasions when it would be normal for people to take pictures. I don't vacation often (life as a contract worker, though I've got a "day job" currently), so I don't go to places that are unusual enough or spectacular enough to inspire me to record them on film...uh, in flash memory. By the way, that's the other reason I don't take many pictures these days. "Back in the day" as they say, I was very much into photography. Keep in mind this was back in the day of the 35mm SAR (single action reflex) camera. This was back in the day when Kodak still made B & W paper and film (remember "film"?). This was also back in the day when I actually went places and saw things that were (in my humble opinion) worthy of recording on film. I didn't even have to go far, because in those days, I could "see" a lot more. That is, I could see things in my ordinary world that could become art, using the right perspective (and the right filters, and the right film, and the right...). Somewhere along the line, I just got too busy, or I got too committed to practicalities, or I got too cynical. I stopped looking at the world as if it were art, and started wearing my blinders. Oh sure, the occasional sunset still looked "pretty" and I'd sometimes see a bit of loveliness in the world here or there, but then the next second would pass, and I'd have to be getting back to the task at hand (whatever that task might be). My view of the world would once again become mundane and ordinary, and "the vision" would be corked back into its bottle; tossed somewhere into the depths of what used to be my imagination. My wife bought a digital camera several years ago. I remember being surprised, because we had a couple of small film cameras and she's not the sort of person to buy something "just because". There has to be a demonstrated need for the item. I think the film cameras were getting on in years and there was something she wanted to record (probably someone else's backyard...she's into landscaping, or wants to be). Anyway, this camera came into our...her possession. I helped her figure out how to download pictures from the camera to her PC the first time, but that's about all I had to do with it. Recently, I had reason to start creating a number of social networking sites (the original reason is still a secret, but I'll be able to talk about it soon...don't worry...nothing bad) and needed a "profile picture". I'm nothing to look at. In the photos of my son's wedding last May, I looked a bit like a cross between "Lurch" from the Addams Family and Night of the Living Dead. I needed to figure out a way to take a portrait (by myself) and make it look not too scary. With the aid of the digital camera and the bathroom mirror (the missus was out that evening) I managed to create something passable. I "desaturated" the image using GIMP, modified the brightness and contrast a bit, and I was set. Rather proud of my effort, something long dormant stirred within me. I periodically get email notices for different books being published, inviting me to review them. David Pogue's Digital Photography: The Missing Manual appeared in my inbox. I figured "why not"? Then it arrived, and I remembered the digital camera and started wondering if the dead could be resurrected. Yeah, I've encountered Flickr and Picassa and such, and sampled their wares. I thumbed through an old National Geographic at the barber's...uh, "hair stylist's" recently, and spent quite a bit of time going over the photos of the South Sandwich Islands. Was I really still interested in photography? Did I really have time for a hobby? Well, it wouldn't hurt to look at the book. Pogue's book, like most of the Missing Manual series, is written for the beginner. In fact, the first chapter is dedicated to describing the different digital cameras on the market (and there are tons), and the second chapter is a list of the features to be found on said-cameras. I'm pretty sure I still remember the basics of composing a shot in the view finder (chapter 3), but the information's in the book, if I needed a refresher. As I worked my way through the book, I started to get depressed and remembered why I wasn't attracted to digital cameras. They were too easy and too hard. The too easy is like what blogging has done to writing. Everything is instantaneous. Access is automatic. Anything you happen to be thinking of, at anytime, can be translated to text, with graphics added with just a bit more effort, and published to the web for all (potentially) the world to see. Where was the effort? Where was the editing? Where was the gatekeeper to define which piece of writing is "worthy" to see the light of day? All this applies to "instant" digital photography, especially with places like Flickr, that can allow the photographer (and his or her grandmother) to publish to the web anything they can point and click at. I pushed my mental "reset" button and tried to pull myself out of "cynical" mode. After all, I know professional photographers who use digital cameras and edit in Photoshop, so it can't be a lost cause. There are blogs actually worth reading (and I hope mine is one of them), and I've used a microwave oven for decades, so I know that not all "instant gratification" is bad (though my "jury" is still out on cell phone cameras, which Pogue's book covers). I moved on. I started to see parallels between Pogue's book and a book written by Akkana Peck for Apress: Beginning GIMP: From Novice to Professional (2nd Ed) (I reviewed this book for the hardcopy version of Linux Pro Magazine, but due to the publication cycle, you won't be able to read it until the March 2009 edition). I really like GIMP, and though I've never used Photoshop, from what I know of PS (besides the fact that it's overpriced), GIMP seems to be able to do most of the same tasks. I'm reasonably satisfied that Pogue's and Peck's books could work in concert in my life ("My life"? Did I just say that?). Pogue's book is a reintroduction to basic photography for those of us who once loved the art (even though I was hardly an expert) and have let it lay fallow for several decades. If you have never done anything more with your digital camera than "point and click", Pogue teaches you how to do more. If you've never purchased such a camera, the beginning chapters in the book will teach you what to look for in terms of features that will meet your needs. It is a beginner's book. If you are wanting to get into serious digital photography, this book will only take you so far, but it will get you started. That is, it's very much like a person wanting to learn how to paint; you need to do enough still lifes before you get on to "art". You need to lay the foundation for your skill sets before you can build up. David Pogue's book functions like that foundation, or at least shows you how to construct it. Appendix A: Where to Go From Here will speak to you if you want to take digital photography beyond your vacation pictures. It provides various online and print resources you can access and mentions Photoshop (but not GIMP; shame on you, David) as the photo editing software of choice. Appendix B: The Top Ten Tips of All Time is the book in a nutshell, in terms of distilling down all the advice given in the book on how to take a shot into just a few pages. I think the resistance I've experienced around wanting to review this book, and getting anywhere near my wife's modest little digital camera, isn't that I'm afraid of taking pictures with modern technology. It's more that I'm afraid I'm going to start caring about taking photographs again. I've already got plenty of creative tasks on my plate and plenty more practical tasks, all competing for the same 24 hours in each day (and I do have to sleep sometimes, though that too is occasionally elusive). Do I recommend Pogue's digital photography book? Actually, yes. If you are a beginner, either at buying such a device or knowing what to do with it, I think Pogue has produced a document "worthy" of your time and attention. Like most of what comes out of this series, the writing is solid and accessible. Technically, the information is accurate, and Pogue writes from the perspective of someone who also loves to photograph (which is probably why he wrote the book, rather than commissioning another author to do so). I know this review has been more editorial than anything else, but this is one book that squarely collided with my personality and my personal history. No book review, or any other sort of writing for that matter (certainly the popular news media) is without bias, so when I review any book, I review it from my point of view. For David Pogue's Digital Photography: The Missing Manual though, that point of view was a little closer to "home" than most. Unabashed plug time. A friend of mine named Karen (I don't know if she wants me to use her last name on my blog) has breathed new life and new passion into her love of technology by discovering Photoshop (she feels sorry for me because I prefer GIMP). I've been following her progress on twitter with satisfaction and have noticed that some of the tutorials on her blog Pursuing Photoshop have been picked up by some of the more noteworthy Photoshop online venues. She's also been known to hang out at the PlanetPhotoshop.com forums, if you're interested. If Photoshop is your photo editor of choice (and Adobe has as big a grip on that market as Microsoft Windows has on the home desktop space), you can't go wrong visiting those online resources. For those readers out there (all three of you) who are more open source minded like me, you will want to get your hands on a copy of Akkana Peck's Beginning GIMP: From Novice to Professional (2nd Ed). I won't do the review of her book here for the reasons I've already stated, but the long and the short of it is, her's is the best GIMP book on the market, as well as being the most up to date. It will go well with everything Pogue has written in his book and, as far as the photo editing piece; GIMP offers a more "reasonably priced" alternative to Photoshop. Will I use Pogue's book to bring back the dead? Well, the corpse is stirring, but whether or not it will emerge from its tomb, only time will tell. I'm supposed to take a four day trip to Oceanside after my daughter-in-law has her first baby (my first grandchild), so who knows? I haven't seen the Pacific ocean in a long time.

Spelling, Algebra, and When to Turn Off the Computer

Update 2009/02/18: Tim O'Reilly commented on this blog entry, and it looks like I didn't read his original comments well enough. I appreciate him stopping by my humble abode and feel it necessary to include his comments here.

"I think you missed the point of my "change happens" blog post, if you thought my reply was "just get used to it." In fact, I was writing about resilience in the face of change. And what you're talking about - stepping away from the computer when needed - is one way to become more resilient in the face of change. We should always be wary of becoming too dependent on our tools. FWIW, I also published the book you recommend at the end, Steve Talbott's Devices of the Soul, as well as his much earlier The Future Does Not Compute. So I really don't know why you thought that my "change happens" piece was contrary to your thinking".

Mea culpa. Update 2009/02/17: I saw this Calvin and Hobbes cartoon this morning and thought it the perfect "counterpoint" to my article. I just proves that doing it "the old fashioned way" has pitfalls, at least when your tutor is a tiger. LOL Original Article: Tracey Pilone's recent blog at O'Reilly.com, The Intersection of Algebra and Technology got me thinking about one of my "soapbox" issues; the use of computing in education. One of the biggest proponents of computers in schools is the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation which has provided millions of dollars in technology to education, from Elementary schools to Universities over the years. But is this all a good idea? As Pilone, co-author of Head First Algebra (O'Reilly, December 2008) points out in her blog, there was a great deal of discussion between the authors (her and her spouse) and the publishers as to how much technology should be injected into the book. In other words, should graphing calculators be required or at least "allowed" in working through the book's problems? The ultimate answer was "no", which was a relief to me (I don't what to have to go out and buy one again). The Pilones had grown up and learned Algebra in a world without graphing calculators, and certainly generations of mathematicians worked through Algebra without such aids. Learning to do it yourself has advantages (and yes, calculators are "allowed" to perform simple math calculations). Pilone also mentioned a Duke University study, Scaling the Digital Divide which "surprisingly" concluded (not a surprise to me) that ...the impact of home computer use is, if anything, negative on school achievement. That means that there may be benefits to learning language and mathematics before introducing technology into the mix". I have an experience that illustrates this in a very simple way. I'm known as the dictionary of my family. Whenever anyone wants to know how to spell a word or the definition of a word, they ask me. Why? Because 9 times out of 10, I probably know the answer. I grew up in a world without the Internet, online dictionaries, and spell checkers. I still have hard copies of a Dictionary and a Thesaurus that I consult when I want to learn something about words (and since I'm a writer, I refer to them often). Since I grew up with this practice, without realizing it, I had memorized a large number of word spellings and definitions, so I've become something of an asset to my kids and my spouse (and to myself). There are words that always "defeat" me, such as "Caribbean" and "Mediterranean", but for the most part, I'm pretty good at not having to use "high tech" to figure out how to spell (I suppose a hard copy dictionary could be considered "low tech"). The idea of putting computers in schools is simple and understandable. Computers are *the* tool of the 21st century for accessing information in the "Information Age". I say "computers" using the widest possible definition, including hand held devices and any hardware or software utility used to store, collect, organize, and transmit data. I'm not saying to pull all the PCs out of the classroom and to burn down all of the computer labs at your local university. I am saying though, that we sadly teach our children to use a calculator to do simple addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division to the point that they can't even make change at a grocery store and they always assume the cash register (or whatever it's called these days) is right (even though it's not). This practice is not doing our children and future generations any favors. Tim O'Reilly wrote an article for his blog yesterday called Change Happens and communicates the idea that, since change is inevitable, we shouldn't resist it. I replied to his tweet on twitter that I didn't think all change was good and got back the standard "party line" that it's inevitable, more or less saying "why fight it"? This makes me wonder if O'Reilly bothered to read Pilone's blog (which after all, is published on OReilly.com), since it doesn't seem to line up with his perspectives. Yes, change is inevitable and some change is beneficial, but not all change should be embraced. No, the future won't be like we imagine and the future won't always be good, but that doesn't mean we're helpless in the face of change. Change is caused for the most part, by the intervention of people in the world. It's not an elemental force we are helpless to affect, such as a hurricane. We can steer the course of change. All we have to do is care enough to make the effort. If we want to take control of our education, our understanding of the world around us, and the direction of our lives, we can do small, simple things to make a difference. It can come down to something as straightforward as learning and memorizing the spelling and definitions of words, and working out algebra problems using a pencil and paper. Tools are instruments to be used by people; we are not to be used by them, nor should our lives be dictated by them, simply because they were invented and simply because they exist. Again, I'm not talking about "killing" the PC or Mac. After all, I make my living documenting technology in a number of different ways, including being a technical writer for a software firm, writing books and book reviews about technology, and a column for Linux Pro Magazine. I'm not talking about biting the hand that feeds me. I am talking about making conscious and calculated decisions on when to use technology and when to use less complicated (and less convenient) tools. Your brain is still the best "technology" that you'll ever have for solving problems and making decisions. Try putting away the cell phone and Kindle and picking up a book once in awhile. You'll be surprised at how much you learn. By the way, Harlan Ellison spoke somewhat to this point in his short story Jeffty is Five, which I read many years ago and which remains one of my favorite Ellison works. An excellent book on precisely this topic is Steve Talbott's Devices of the Soul: Battling for Our Selves in an Age of Machines. Reading these works is worth definitely worth your time.