Showing posts with label book. Show all posts
Showing posts with label book. Show all posts

Useful Books For Designers Working On Complex Problems

Mike's Notes

Another wonderful resource list from the one and only Vitaly Friedman of Smashing Magazine fame.

There were too many links to copy here, so check out the original post.

Thanks, Vitaly. 😎

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Last Updated

12/09/2026

Useful Books For Designers Working On Complex Problems

By: Vitaly Friedman
LinkedIn: 14/08/2026

Vitaly Friedman: Vitaly Friedman loves beautiful content and doesn’t like to give in easily. When he is not writing, he’s most probably running front-end & UX workshops. He loves solving complex UX, front-end and performance problems. He also runs Smart Interface Design Patterns, a video course and UX training for passionate UX designers.

...

Chances are high that you are working on a challenging, complex product. And perhaps in a difficult and heavily restricted environment, too — a workplace with deep organizational hierarchy, domain complexity, entrenched culture, untamed legacy and conflicting priorities from opinionated stakeholders at every turn.

How do you thrive and survive in such environments? Well, there are no quick answers to that question. A few weeks ago I stumbled upon a fantastic overview by Daniel Burka, with books for designers who are setting out to make a lasting difference — in healthcare, education, public service, climate change. So I thought I'll put together a few of my personal book recommendations as well. Let's take a look.

My personal book recommendations for designers working on hard, complex problems.

My Personal Book Recommendations

  • How Big Things Get Done, by Prof. Bent Flyvbjerg and Dan Gardner. Fantastic research on why complex projects run late and over budget, why right-to-left thinking matters and how to minimize risks of failures and delays.
  • Factfulness, by Hans Rosling. A fantastic book on how to better understand messy reality by learning where progress has happened, where challenges remain and how evidence can guide better decisions.
  • The Phoenix Project, by Gene Kim, Kevin Behr and George Spafford. A fictional novel, but a truly insightful book on the importance of flow, bottlenecks and operations in a product/IT company.
  • The Goal, by Eliyahu Goldratt. A legendary classic on improving a system by finding and fixing bottlenecks — for PMs and product or staff designers.
  • Thinking in Systems, by Donella Meadows. Probably the clearest guide I could find about systems thinking, feedback loops and how to intervene at the right time, with the right pace at the right place.
  • Algorithms to Live By, by Brian Christian and Tom Griffiths. An insightful deep-dive into how people make daily decisions, and how to deal with overwhelming choices.
  • The Culture Map, by Erin Meyer. A wonderful book on how to communicate and work with truly global teams across cultures — from feedback and trust to collaboration and decision-making.
  • Articulating Design Decisions, by Tom Greever. A very practical strategic book on how to communicate UX work effectively to senior management and people who need to approve your work.
  • Narrative Economics, by Robert Shiller. A book focused on economy, but really about how ideas move markets. A great read on how contagious stories, not just data, drive decisions, events and spread impact over time.
  • Envisioning Information, by Edward Tufte. A deep, dense classic on how to deal with complex data and how to display it to maximize clarity. A must-read for every data visualization work.

Not really books for designers, and not books about design either. But great books about planning and thinking: How Big Thigns Get Done and Algorithms To Live By.

  • The Great Mental Models, by Shane Parrish. How people think, grasp new areas, find patterns and understand the world. A lovely series about mental models and how people think.
  • A Pattern Language, by Christopher Alexander. Actually a book about patterns in architecture, but also about how spaces are organized, and how to think of living and working systems.
  • Org Design for Design Orgs, by Peter Merholz, Kristin Skinner. How to build, structure and scale in-house design teams — on hiring, roles and operating models. Not a topic that's often covered.
  • Thinking in Bets, by Annie Duke. Perhaps a bit of a cliché recommendation, but a lovely book on how to make better decisions under uncertainty, when you don't have enough evidence.
  • The Missing Billionaires, by Victor Haghani and James White. To me, a fantastic book about risk management without being a risk management book. How to strategically approach risk and financial decisions over a long period of time.
  • Why Design Is Hard, by Scott Berkun. A lovely little book about the inherent complexities and challenges of the design process.
  • Practical Charts, by Nick Desbarats. The only practical guide to charts that I found incredibly easy to understand. A must-read for data viz and dashboard design.
  • The Laws of Simplicity, by John Maeda. A classic. A very short book that entirely changed how I think about design decades ago.

New Books For UX and Interface Designers

There are quite a few new UX books that I have on my reading list (and had on it for quite some time), but actually didn't yet find time to get into. So if you're looking for a new book for yourself or for your colleagues, here are a few recent ones that caught my attention (published between 2025 and 2026). I hope you'll find them useful, too.

UX & Product Design

  • Inviting Depth: Richer Research Interviews, by Brandon Berry PhD, Thomas Williams. How to conduct more meaningful research interviews and help researchers uncover deeper insights from users.
  • Research Practice, by Gregg Bernstein. With practical advice and frameworks for effective and ethical research practices.
  • Sentient Design, by Veronika Kindred, Josh Clark. A practical book on how to use AI effectively to design "intelligent" experiences, with many useful insights and practical techniques.
  • UX for AI: A Framework for Designing AI‑Driven Products, by Greg Nudelman. Quite technical at times, but packed with real case studies of how products teams design and build AI experiences from scratch. Currently reading.
  • The Designer's Guide To The Buttons, by Andrey Markelov. Actually a mix of a history book about interfaces and UI components — a comprehensive visual guide to the history, logic, and evolution of user interfaces, from Xerox Alto to Vision Pro.
  • Building The Research Engine, by Julian Della Mattia. A practical guide on how to set up a research practice from scratch and how to make sure that research efforts are noticed and its outcomes are actually used.

  • Shift Happens, by Marcin Wichary. An extensive (!) research on the history of keyboards, keyboard layouts — from early typewriters to the pixellated keyboards in our pocket. Sadly sold out at the moment.
  • Designed With Care, curated by Rachel Edwards. A beautiful overview of how to create inclusive trauma-informed content across various domains.
  • Staff Product Designer, by Artiom Dashinsky. A very honest and practical deep-dive into senior product design roles and career progression.
  • Everything is a Prototype, by Brendan Kearns. How to prototype better, with tools for more productive experimentation.
  • Accessible UX Research, by Michele A. Williams, PhD. Our new Smashing book, on how to conduct inclusive UX research — from planning and recruiting to facilitation, asking better questions, avoiding bias and building trust.
  • Good Services, by Lou Downe. Focuses on the principles behind designing digital services that actually work for people.
  • The Solo: Grow Your Own Digital Products, by Christine Vallaure de la Paz. A practical guide for designers looking to create and scale up their own digital products.

  • The Making of Prince of Persia: Journals 1985–1993, by Jordan Mechner. Per se not a classic design book, but a deep dive into how the legendary game I was playing for months came to be.
  • The Core Model Digital Strategy, by Are Halland. How to approach digital strategy and more strategic, collaborative design.
  • The Path to Senior Product Designer, by Artiom Dashinsky. Another book by Artiom, focusing on the journey and skills required for senior-level product design.
  • Hey UX, Hey PM, by Jeff Carpenter. Interesting: explores collaboration and communication between designers and product managers.
  • The Staff Designer, by 🐱 Catt Small 👩🏾💻. A guide for staff ICs on how to grow, influence, and lead effectively without moving into people management. Catt has a great Maven cohort as well.

Dashboards and Data Visualization

  • CHART: Designing Creative Data Visualizations from Charts to Art, by Nadieh Bremer. Very high on my list as I would trust Nadieh on everything data visualization! How to transform data into impactful visual narratives, moving beyond standard charts.
  • Dashboards That Deliver, by Steve Wexler, Jeffrey Shaffer, Andy Cotgreave, Amanda Makulec. New book on designing impactful dashboards with insights and drive action.
  • Speak Data, by Giorgia Lupi, Phillip Cox. An interesting book on how to communicate complex data effectively. Great for a kitchen table, too!
  • Practical Charts, by Nick Desbarats. A hands-on guide to designing honest and functional charts, with useful decision trees to use.

Cards & Cheat Sheets

For quick reference, here are few lovely card decks and cheat sheets:

  • Storyteller Tactics, by Steve Rawling. A legendary deck of cards to design compelling narratives for presentations and user stories.
  • UX Research Cheat Sheets, by Stéphanie Walter. Helpful user interview question cheat sheets, question cards and UXR workshop templates.
  • UI Fonts Checklist, by Oliver Schöndorfer. A practical guide to selecting typefaces for UI design.
  • Smart Interface Design Patterns, by yours truly Vitaly Friedman. My little collection of useful checklist cards for pretty much any UI component!

“But What About AI?”

There are strong voices arguing that many of these books belong to the pre-AI era, and hence they are slightly outdated and not particularly useful.

I strongly disagree. I don't really think that AI makes these books less relevant today — if anything, AI probably amplifies a desperate need for these books to be written and published and read. And I don't think AI can turn good intentions with poor ideas into good design — even with the best context and design harness provided to it.

In the world where we can generate hundreds of flows and prototypes quickly, or hyper-personalize experiences to every individual user, we need to make very, very good decisions on which flows are driving us towards a goal, and how our work drives users to their goals as well.

The books above are about better judgment, about critical and strategic thinking, human-led research, better sense-making and decision making. AI can surely augment it, but the quality lies in humans curating and choosing directions and making better decisions as a result. I'm quite skeptical about people allowing AI to fully take over decisions any time soon.

Useful UX Book Lists

And just in case you need more specialized book recommendations — for entrepreneurs, researchers, accessibility professionals, product managers or behavioral scientists, here are a few useful bookmarks of recommendations by other fine folks.

50 Short Books For Designers, brought together by David Demaree and the team at Bits&Letters.

  • 50 Short Books For Designers, a wonderful directory of free and non-free books, published by A Book Apart, but then disappearing from the web — now brought together in one single place, with freely available versions, references and links in one place. Kindly put together by David Demaree and the team at Bits&Letters.
  • Free Books For Interface & UX Designers
  • Book Recommendations, by Stripe Press
  • UX Research Books, by Stéphanie Walter
  • Inclusive Design Books, by Jessica Ivins
  • Books For Accessible Products, by Cat Noone
  • Books For Entrepreneurs, by Intercom
  • Product Management Books, by Paweł Huryn
  • Behavioral Science Books, by Robert Meza
  • Data Visualization Books, by Nadieh Bremer
  • Business Books For Designers, by Chris Do
  • Interface Design Books, by Adham Dannaway

Wrapping Up

The world desperately needs patient and passionate designers to improve the messy, complex and legacy-ridden systems that are so common and so frustrating in daily lives of millions of people.

You might feel stuck — in enterprise environments, education, healthcare and public services; yet that's exactly where your design work can make a tremendous impact for people who need it the most. It's at times a painful but extremely rewarding experience, as long as you bring along enough patience and care.

Just one final note. Many of the authors above also provide an incredible amount of free content for everybody to use and learn from. I kindly encourage you to support their work if you can, and always purchase books from their own recommended sources, rather than discount retailers. 

Do you have books you'd add to this list? I'd love to hear your recommendations for books that made a difference for you — please leave a comment below. I try my best to read and answer every single comment and email I receive, so please don't hesitate to reach out.

Books Have Always Been Destroyed. But Never Like This

Mike's Notes

I love print books and libraries. Books in print are precious. AI needs to benefit humanity, not be a destructive force.

Trinity College, Ireland

The original posted article had many links.

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Last Updated

01/09/2026

Books Have Always Been Destroyed. But Never Like This

By: Hana Lee Goldin
Card Catalog: 25/08/2026

Your personal librarian for the AI age. Forever in the pursuit of exploring how we find, filter, and feel about information.

We’ve entered the third era of libricide.

...

Quick summary:

An AI company has been buying up used books by the million and destroying them, scanning the pages for training data and pulping what’s left. Court filings unsealed this year describe the program and an internal note asking that the work be kept from becoming known. A court has ruled that buying and scanning the books this way is legal, and once the work is done, nothing survives to show a book was ever there to lose.

Key takeaways:

  • The books are bought through anonymous middlemen, so the sellers filling the orders rarely know where their stock is headed. From every angle the buying looks like ordinary commerce, which is exactly what keeps the destruction from being seen.
  • Book destruction has a long history, and it changes each time the technology of copying changes. It has shifted twice before. This is the third shift, and it looks nothing like the book burnings most of us picture.
  • This shift is set apart by leaving nothing behind. The words are kept, the object is discarded, and no record says which titles were taken, so the loss can be neither proven nor traced to anyone who might answer for the harm.
  • That reaches past books to anyone who wants to know things firsthand. When the only surviving copy is sealed inside a system no outsider can consult, verifying what it says becomes impossible, and we are left trusting whatever summary we are given.

...

“We don’t want it to be known that we are working on this.”

The sentence appears in an internal Anthropic planning document made public through court filings in Bartz v. Anthropic, the copyright class action that three authors filed in 2024. Anthropic, the maker of Claude, called the program Project Panama. Its stated mission fit in one sentence: “Project Panama is our effort to destructively scan all the books in the world.”

Destructive scanning means cutting a book from its binding, feeding the loose pages through a scanner, and discarding the book afterward. According to the court, Anthropic spent millions of dollars buying millions of print books, often used. Its service providers removed the bindings, cut the pages, scanned them into searchable digital files, and discarded the books. Anthropic kept the scans in an internal digital library and used books from that library to train the AI systems behind Claude.

The lawsuit initially concerned another source of Anthropic’s library: more than seven million pirated book files the company had downloaded. The court treated the two acquisition paths differently. It held that Anthropic could lawfully buy print books, convert them into searchable digital files for internal use, and discard the physical copies; because the resulting files remained inside the company rather than being redistributed, that practice was fair use. It reached the opposite conclusion about the books Anthropic had downloaded from pirate sites and retained.

Companies announce the programs they are proud of; Anthropic tried to keep this one invisible. The January unsealing supplied the project’s codename and the instruction to stay silent. The instruction anticipated what the company did not want authors, booksellers, and the reading public to see: books bought by the million, cut apart, scanned, and discarded. Anthropic didn’t publicly announce Project Panama before court records made it public.

The silence has no precedent. Books have been destroyed for as long as they’ve been made: by conquering armies and offended churches, by censors with lists and mobs with torches, by floods and fires, and by budgets that let the roof leak. Some of it was fast and public. More of it was slow and official. All of it, loud or slow, could be recognized for what it was. A person watching knew that books were being lost. History kept what record it could. But what’s happening now carries no such signature. From the outside, nobody could tell that books were being destroyed at all.

Inside Project Panama

Anthropic hired a man named Tom Turvey in February 2024 and gave him a mission the court record repeats in one sweeping phrase: obtaining all the books in the world. Turvey came to the job from Google Books, the project that spent the 2000s digitizing library collections on machines engineered to turn pages gently, so that every book survived its own scanning. Anthropic took the opposite approach. Gentle machinery never entered the plan. Over roughly a year, the company spent tens of millions of dollars buying millions of print books, sheared off their spines, fed the loose pages through high-speed scanners, and pulped what remained. Vendor proposals in the court records described converting up to two million books in six months, some eleven thousand a day.

Destroying the books solved a financial problem first. A bound book must be scanned page by page, slowly and at cost. Once cut apart, the same volume becomes a stack of loose paper that can run through a sheet feeder at speed. Across millions of volumes, the difference in output determined the method.

The legal significance emerged later. In June 2025, Judge William Alsup ruled on the authors’ claims. For the books Anthropic had bought and destroyed, he found the copying to be fair use: the rule in American copyright law that allows limited copying without an author’s permission (the way a critic can quote a novel in a review). His reasoning turned on replacement. Anthropic bought one physical copy, made one digital copy, and destroyed the original—so the number of copies in the world never grew. In the law’s eyes, the scan simply took the book’s place, a change of format. If Anthropic had kept both the book and the scan, the number of copies would have doubled and the fair-use argument would have weakened. Pulping the originals helped make the copying legal.

The pirated downloads fared differently in the same ruling. For those more than seven million files, Alsup rejected Anthropic’s fair-use defense. He emphasized that Anthropic had built a permanent, general-purpose library it expected to keep indefinitely, not a temporary collection for a defined training task. “None is even offered here except for Anthropic’s pocketbook and convenience,” he wrote.

The ruling left the company facing a trial over damages, and Anthropic settled instead: the company agreed to pay $1.5 billion. A judge granted the deal final approval on July 20, the largest copyright class settlement in American history. Under the deal, Anthropic will delete the pirated digital files. Critically, the deal concerns those files, not the millions of physical books the company bought and pulped. Copyright protects the text of a book—the creative expression of an idea—not the paper on which those words were printed. Once Anthropic lawfully owned a physical copy, copyright law generally didn’t prevent it from destroying that object. The books could be destroyed without creating the kind of copyright violation at issue in the case.

But books don’t enter a library by themselves: somebody had to sell the company all those books. The court records describe Anthropic purchasing through vendors. This spring and summer, booksellers across Europe described the other side of such a trade: unusually large, eclectic orders placed through intermediaries, with the ultimate buyer unnamed. Tomás Kenny of Kennys of Galway called one order for books “bananas”—a mix of titles no library would plausibly assemble. Whether any particular order came from Anthropic cannot be established from outside the transaction. Nor is Anthropic the only possible customer: other AI companies have also been reported to be acquiring books at industrial scale.

The reported market is built to keep the buyer at a distance. Brokers can aggregate inventory and manage bulk orders without disclosing who is ultimately acquiring the books. ISBNdb, a book-data company, briefly advertised a prospective book-sourcing service for AI developers that promised confidentiality; its marketing explained the appeal bluntly: “‘AI company destroys two million books’ is not a headline that generates sympathy.” (After reporting drew attention to the page, ISBNdb removed it and said the proposed service had never been launched.) The result was not merely secrecy about the buyer, but uncertainty about the fate of the books.

Annihilation, then spectacle

What Anthropic is doing belongs to a history far older than the company. Rebecca Knuth, a professor of library science, named the practice in 2003: libricide, the systematic destruction of books and libraries, usually carried out or authorized by a government. Her subject was the twentieth century’s state-sponsored campaigns, but the practice runs back as far as writing does. The scenes that come to mind of this are the same few: students feeding bonfires in Berlin in 1933, Sarajevo’s national library burning under siege in 1992. But behind those scenes, the record is wider and stranger than they suggest. Bonfires were rarer than the memory of them. Most destruction arrived slowly and with permission, through purges, censors, wars, and simple neglect.

A strict reading of that definition would leave Anthropic out, reserving libricide for the destruction of entire libraries. But that distinction collapses here. The world’s secondhand book trade functions as one enormous collection, scattered across thousands of shops and sellers with no central address. Buying it up by the pallet and pulping it empties a library all the same, just one whose shelves span continents.

Destroying a book has meant different things in different centuries. The difference has always come down to copying, because how books are copied decides how many of any one book exist. When copies are scarce, destruction can erase a work from existence. Once copies are everywhere, destruction can only send a message about one. To me, that line sorts the history of libricide into eras, and what distinguishes each one is what its destruction leaves behind. The result is my own framework, a chronology by residue that I haven’t found anywhere in the scholarship: two eras completed, and a third that has just begun.

For thousands of years, every copy of every book was made by hand. A single volume could take a scribe months, so most works existed in a few manuscripts, and some in only one. Under those conditions, destroying the object destroyed the work, completely and forever. I call this the first era: the era of destruction as annihilation. The word descends from the Latin ad nihil, meaning to reduce or bring something to nothing. In this era the meaning was literal. When Diego de Landa, a Spanish friar in colonial Yucatán, burned twenty-seven Maya codices in 1562, the texts inside them went to ash. No copies of them existed anywhere on earth, so entire bodies of Maya history and belief ended in one afternoon’s fire. The library of Alexandria met the slower version of the same fate, declining through centuries of purges and neglect until its losses ran past counting. What the first era left behind was dust, and one thing more: knowledge of the loss. Contemporaries recorded what had burned. We can still mourn the codices, because the one thing annihilation couldn’t destroy was the memory that the books had existed.

The printing press ended that era within a century of its invention. Once a title could exist in hundreds or thousands of identical copies spread across cities and countries, fire lost its reach. Burning a book now destroyed only an object, since the work lived on in every other copy, safely out of range. Destruction continued anyway, though, serving a different purpose entirely. I call this the second era, the era of destruction as spectacle (a word descended from the Latin spectare, to watch). By the twentieth century, watching had become the entire point of burning a book. The clearest case is the Nazi bonfires of May 1933, when German students burned tens of thousands of volumes in public squares, in front of rolling newsreel cameras. Almost none of the works truly died in those fires, because the titles on the pyres existed in editions across Europe and America (many of which remain in print today). Erasing the books was never the goal, since erasure had stopped being possible. The fires existed to be seen, a threat performed first for the crowd in the square and then for everyone who watched the footage. What the second era left behind was the opposite of ash: photographs and visuals of fires that consumed real books but reached nothing beyond them. Once a book existed in enough copies, burning one no longer removed it from the world. It announced that the book had no place in the world to come.

Destruction as disappearance

Measured against those two eras, what Anthropic is doing fits neither. In the first era, destroying the object meant losing the work. Anthropic’s scanners preserve every word, so the works survive. In the second era, the objects were beside the point and the burning was public theater. This time the objects are destroyed by the millions, and the destruction says nothing at all; it’s not a message but a method. The company ordered the operation kept out of sight. A destruction that erases no text and performs for no one, run at industrial speed, matches neither pattern. The technology of copying has crossed another threshold, the way it did when the press replaced the scribe. What it means to destroy a book now has changed again to match. We’ve entered the third era.

What exactly went into the scanners is the question nobody outside can answer. The unsealed documents show the program favored what its leader called “less common” books, harder-to-find titles over mass-market ones, without ever defining where less common ends. After the claims went viral this summer, the fact-checking site Snopes investigated whether rare books were being pulped. Anthropic told Snopes that “none of our data acquisition programs buy and destroy ‘rare’ or ‘antiquarian’ books.” The assurance can’t be tested from outside, because no list of what was bought has ever been made public.

Anthropic’s own planners estimated the world has about 130 million distinct books. The program destroyed millions of copies, most of them ordinary used books with plenty of surviving duplicates. Even where duplicates survive, a scan keeps only the words. A physical copy carries evidence too, like a censored paragraph that marks one printing apart from another, or an owner’s name inked inside the cover. But the deeper danger sits in the margin nobody can see. Anthropic aimed for “uncommon” titles while recording nothing public about which copies were destroyed. For a book surviving in only a handful of copies anywhere, one bulk order can potentially take the last one. Whether that has already happened is a question no one on the outside knows for sure. The impossibility of answering what was destroyed is what’s new.

The buying also leans toward older books, for a reason that has nothing to do with rarity. Since around 2022, text written by AI has spread across the internet, mixed in with everything people write and mostly impossible to tell apart. That creates a problem for the companies training new models. Feeding a model text written by other models tends to degrade the results, so the builders want sources guaranteed to be human. A book printed before the technology existed carries that guarantee on its copyright page. Old print has become a raw material, valued for the one quality the internet can no longer promise.

One more feature separates this era from the last one. Spectacle-era destruction wanted an audience; this destruction wants the opposite. The buyer is after the text and has no message to send. In fact, attention to its process can only slow the buying down. Taken together, the features of this era line up: the works survive inside a black box, the objects vanish by the millions, no public record exists, and the operation itself prefers to work in secrecy. I call this the third era, the era of destruction as disappearance. The word rests on the Latin apparere, to come into view, with a prefix that reverses the motion. A disappearance is a departure from visibility. The word fits this era at every layer, from the unseen sales to a program that only appeared when a court forced it into view.

Every one of these books, preserved to the letter, can now be read by no one. The scanned texts sit in Anthropic’s private collection, a library with no reading room and no public catalog. Models trained on that collection are built to avoid quoting it at length, because reproducing long passages for users is the copyright violation no court has excused. So the machines answer questions about books without ever showing the books themselves. When someone asks a model about a title that survives only in that collection, what comes back is a summary, written in the model’s words, with the original nowhere in reach.

That arrangement changes something basic about how we can know things. Checking a claim against its source is the foundation of thinking for ourselves. When we can pull the book, find the page, and read the passage in context, we get to judge whether the summary was faithful and whether the quote meant what someone claims it meant. Remove the book and that judgment has nowhere to stand. We’re left taking the summary on trust, with no way to confirm and no standing to doubt. Whatever the model says the book said becomes, for all practical purposes, what the book said. That’s a transfer of authority from the page to the tool, from a source anyone could check to an answer nobody can. The transfer happens one unreachable book at a time.

Maddeningly, every piece of this design is legal. Each one also removes a question that used to have an answer. The anonymous purchasing means nobody can list which books were destroyed, so nobody can rule out that some were the last copies anywhere. With the collection sealed, nobody can compare a stored text against the printed original it replaced, so even perfect fidelity can never be shown. As for whether the buying ever stopped, nobody outside knows that either, since the only reason anyone knows it started is that a piracy lawsuit dragged the records into the open. None of this took a conspiracy, only ordinary business decisions about what to disclose, all of them legal and every one of them closing a door.

One more thing disappears along with these books: the ability to mourn them. The previous era’s destruction left survivors who could testify to what was lost. Alexandria’s losses were lamented for centuries. Sarajevo’s librarians catalogued what their fire took. The third era leaves no one who can even compile the list. A loss we can name is a wound. One we can't name is just a world grown slightly smaller, with nothing to point to and no way to prove it. A librarian would describe the situation in the profession’s terms: no accession record and no deaccession record, a transaction that leaves no ledger for anyone to audit. Put simply, they’ve created a system in which they can’t be held accountable for the system they’ve created. That understanding defines destruction as disappearance: the loss was built, from the start, to be impossible to establish.

What can still be known

The concealment had one structural weakness: a program that buys millions of books needs sellers, and a company that breaks the law can be sued. Sellers and courts are the two doors into the secrecy — sellers see every order even when they can’t see the buyer, and courts can compel what the company won’t volunteer. Everything now known about the program came through one door or the other. Authors sued and forced the internal records open. Booksellers noticed matching orders across two countries and brought them to reporters; one worked with the journalists at 404 Media to hide a tracking device inside a shipment of books, and the tracker led to an Amazon warehouse outside Las Vegas — evidence that a retail giant appears to be running a scanning program of its own. Within weeks, at least one supplier that had been advertising bulk books for AI training pulled the offer. No regulator opened either door. Every disclosure came from the people the company bought from or the people it answered to in court.

Some sellers went further than noticing. Once Tomás Kenny, whose Galway shop had received one of the strange 5,000-book orders, worked out where books like his might be headed, he said publicly that Kennys wanted no part of scanning aimed at extracting intellectual property. His shop had been the second in the world to put its books online, back in 1994; it now became one of the first to refuse the trade that takes books offline for good. Kenny could refuse because he had worked out the destination, which is exactly the discovery the brokers’ anonymity exists to prevent. A trade that hides its purpose from its own suppliers has already answered the question of whether the suppliers would approve.

The same kind of attention is available to the rest of us, because most of us eventually stand over a box of books deciding where they go, after a move or the clearing of a family house. That box is where all of this arrives at our own doorstep. A seller, or any of us selling to one, can now ask a question that has a good reason to be asked: where do these books go next? The anonymity that keeps this market running survives only as long as nobody asks. For material that might be scarce, like a town history or a box of local records, the open market is no longer the safe default. A library’s special collections desk exists for exactly that kind of donation. And the same habit applies at the other end of the pipeline: when a model summarizes a book for us, we can treat the answer as a starting point and go find the book itself, while findable copies still exist. Each of those is a small act of keeping track.

That kind of record-keeping has been the difference between the eras all along. Each era’s destruction left a residue, a testament of a kind. The first era of annihilation left ashes and knowledge of the devastation. The second era of spectacle left photographs of the fires and the threat those fires were meant to carry. Ours, this third era of disappearance, leaves no ash, no image, and no list. But what’s still open is the record itself: whether one gets kept, and whether anyone outside can access it at all.

...

Thanks for reading

...

The three eras are a framework I built for this piece, and I want to take it further (it’s such fascinating stuff!): a full treatment of how book destruction has changed across five thousand years and what the third era asks of the people living in it. Before I build it though, I’d love to get a temperature read on the format you’re most interested in.

See the poll on the Substack to vote.


Nazi Book Burning

United States Holocaust Memorial Museum

On May 10, 1933, German students under the Nazi regime burned tens of thousands of books nationwide. These book burnings marked the beginning of a period of extensive censorship and control of culture in Adolf Hitler's escalating reign of terror.

In this short film, a Holocaust survivor, an Iranian author, an American literary critic, and two Museum historians discuss the Nazi book burnings and why totalitarian regimes often target culture, particularly literature.

YouTube: Nazi Book Burning

14 May 2013 09:41

Why Handwritten Notes Matter Now More Than Ever

Mike's Notes

So true.

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01/08/2026

Why Handwritten Notes Matter Now More Than Ever

By: Vincent Phan
1000 Libraries Magazine: 15/06/2026

Editor-in-Chief, 1000 Libraries Magazine. At 1000 Libraries, we believe in humanity’s inherent goodness and celebrate the enduring power of books as symbols of our capacity to do good. In a world dominated by digital noise and disheartening news, we cherish the joy of reading—a quiet yet powerful revolution. Our mission is to make inspiration accessible to everyone through the best book-related stories, fostering a diverse, non-religious, non-political community of book lovers who are keeping the written word alive in the 21st century. 

Discover why writing by hand makes the brain work harder, remember more, and process information deeper than typing on any keyboard.

Dear Juliet,

I’m writing to you, in this beautiful city of Verona, to tell you of my own tale of love. Everyone has heard the story of you and Romeo and fallen quite in love with it, although in truthfulness we hope our own affairs have gentler endings. I am here, putting pen to paper, because some tales deserve effort. And because, even if I don’t admit it to myself, writing down such details makes them all the more real.  

For the lovers and romantics out there, a letter like this might ring familiar. In the city of Verona, Italy – the backdrop for Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet – there exist those who still believe in the power of handwritten letters. 

The ‘Secretaries of Juliet’ are the guardians of love letters, and they have been since 1972. In the 1930s, Ettore Solimani, the guardian of Juliet’s Tomb, noticed he was receiving letters addressed to Juliet. These powerful letters of love touched Solimani in such a way that he never left one unread. They moved him so much that he began to reply to each notelet of love, and thus he became the original ‘Juliet’s secretary.’ 

Why Handwriting Feels Human

Photo Credit: Tehiya Benzur

Each year, the ‘Juliet Club’, a club made up of many such secretaries of Juliet, receives tens of thousands of letters. All of them are simply addressed to ‘Juliet, Verona’, and each one of them ends up read, translated, and responded to. People from all cultures, who speak all languages, have poured their hearts out and into their ink, all to be read by a stranger, often on the other side of the world.

Photo Credit: DongHyun Park

These letters contain something rarely seen in our digital age – a sense of vulnerability and raw imperfection. Unlike a laptop or computer, handwritten notes or letters cannot be easily erased or started again. You have to carefully consider the things you want to say and accept that they might not be what we consider ‘perfect’. Humans, or any non-robotic entity, have flaws.

We put our own human fingerprint into everything we do, mostly without realising it. Yet this only adds to the beauty. Anyone can create and read AI-generated articles or stories, but most of us are (thankfully) more drawn to things crafted by human beings, imperfections and all. 

Why the Brain Prefers Pen and Paper

The beauty of the handwritten extends past just the human fingerprint. Beyond literary appeal, handwriting is often better for our brains. Despite most of our lives – professional, academic, and personal – moving onto screens, one cannot deny the scientific evidence that suggests a return to the era of analogue. 

Typing takes mere seconds, but handwriting takes much longer. Some may see this as an inconvenience, time wasted, but neuroscience argues that this added time embeds the information into our brains. Writing out each word in pencil or ink doesn’t just look better but slows our minds down enough to consider what we are writing.

We think about the ideas, the information, and the meanings contained within them. Such an activity engages our motor, visual, and language skills, and helps us truly understand and memorise the content of our writing. 

What Neuroscience Says About Writing by Hand

Schoolchildren who grew up having to physically write all of their notes and assignments might have complained about such labour, but perhaps they were able to better retain the information they wrote. In fact, if we were to look at the scientific literature, we could say they definitely retained this information better. Audrey van der Meer, professor of neuropsychology at NTNU, found that students of this generation were often ‘typing without thinking’. Hearing the words and repeating them on their screens, with little interaction with their content. Prioritising swiftness rather than subject matter. 

To further test this hypothesis, researchers set up a test that examined the brain activity of a group of students as they were writing. The first time they ran the test, students wrote by hand; the second time, they typed. The difference was astounding. Handwriting lit up brains like a summer carnival, whilst typing produced minimal activity. Unlike a key on a keyboard, a person writing feels the difference between each letter. There is a bodily experience for each new word or phrase. Experiences like these help inform the brain of a person’s next action and give them the necessary information on how best to act in their environment.  

So, whilst critics might complain that writing is ‘outdated’, can we really call it ‘progress’ if it achieves worse results? The digital age has brought many undeniable benefits – but that was never in contention. Now we should perhaps question how much digitalisation is too much and allow the simple pleasures of handwriting to slow down our brains. 

Slowing Down in a Digital Age

I am not claiming to exist sans technologie, but I know my mind thanks me for returning to ink and paper every so often. I truly believe we are all continual learners. Graduating from school does not mean graduating from life – and being the best, most empathetic versions of ourselves means being an eternal student. So, when I find a subject that I am intrigued by, I make a note to write down whatever I learn by hand. After all, often the smallest changes make the biggest difference.

Perhaps people still write handwritten letters to Juliet because they know love deserves time. Our innermost thoughts – whether they are full of light or darkness – are those that demand to be written.

10 Must-read books and surveys about AI and Machine Learning

Mike's Notes

Alyona Vert from Turing Post compiled this fantastic list of free resources on AI and Machine Learning. Turing Post is excellent and worth subscribing to.

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Last Updated

11/03/2026

10 Must-read books and surveys about AI and Machine Learning

By: Alyona Vert
Turing Post: 16/02/2026

Joined Turing Post in April 2024. Studied control systems of aircrafts at BMSTU (Moscow, Russia), where conducted several researchers on helicopter models. Now is more into AI and writing.

Deep Learning, context engineering, LLMs, multimodal models and agents – all the basics together for your convenience

Sharing some free, useful resources for you. In this collection, we’ve gathered books and surveys that can be your perfect guides to the major fields and techniques. Hope this really helps you master AI and machine learning and fill in any gaps in your knowledge!

  1. Machine Learning Systems by Vijay Janapa Reddi
  2. Understanding Deep Learning by Simon J.D. Prince
  3. Interpretable Machine Learning by Christoph Molnar
  4. Foundations of Large Language Models by Tong Xiao and Jingbo Zhu
  5. A Survey on Post-training of Large Language Models
  6. A Survey of Generative Categories and Techniques in Multimodal Generative Models
  7. Context Engineering 2.0: The Context of Context Engineering
  8. Agentic Large Language Models, a survey
  9. Geometric Deep Learning: Grids, Groups, Graphs, Geodesics, and Gauges
  10. Mathematical Foundations of Geometric Deep Learning by Haitz Saez de Ocariz Borde and Michael Bronstein

The Software Engineer’s Guidebook: a recap

Mike's Notes

An excellent article by Gergely Orosz on publishing a software book. Ajabbi will eventually need to publish some books for users (I won't be the author), so I'm learning from his experience.

The original article has many links.

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Last Updated

10/12/2025

The Software Engineer’s Guidebook: a recap

By: Gergely Orosz
The Pragmatic Engineer: 12/11/2025

Writing The Pragmatic Engineer. Previously at Uber, Skype, Microsoft. Author of The Software Engineer's Guidebook.

Reflections on publishing The Software Engineer’s Guidebook two years ago, which has sold around 40,000 copies. Also: an unexpected trip to Mongolia to visit the startup which translated it

Two years ago almost to the day, I published The Software Engineer’s Guidebook. Originally, it came out in paperback, then as an ebook and an audiobook. I’m happy to share that it is now available as a hardcover, and is also on the O’Reilly platform.

Hardcover edition: Durable and could make a nice gift for the holidays. You can get it here

Today, I’d like to draw back the curtain on the process of writing a book as a techie:

  1. Pitching to publishers. And why I ended up breaking up with a publisher.
  2. Self-publishing. The tools I used for writing and the platforms I published on.
  3. Traveling to Mongolia to meet the startup which translated the book. A 30-person startup called Nasha Tech translated the book for the benefit of their company and the Mongolian tech ecosystem.
  4. How much did my book earn? $611,911 in two years from sales totalling 40,000 copies, to date. We need more good books in tech, so I hope that sharing these numbers inspires other techies to write them.
  5. Learnings from writing my book. It’s hard to judge a book’s impact, but good books stay valuable for longer – that’s why they’re hard to write.

1. Pitching to publishers

In late 2019, I was an engineering manager at Uber, the ridesharing app. For the first time in my career, I was a manager of managers: suddenly, I had “skip level” software engineers, and it was here that the inspiration came to write a book that provides some advice and observations for these tech professionals.

During a 1:1 catchup with a new joiner skip-level engineer, they asked about getting up to speed in the workplace faster. They were at the Software Engineer 2 (L4), and wanted to figure out how to get to the Senior engineer level (L5A at Uber). I thought it would’ve been nice to give them a book with a bunch of pointers about what it takes to become an effective software engineer in this environment.

With that inspiration to write a book about professional growth at large tech companies and startups, I looked for publishers who could help make it a reality. I pitched my book to 3 publishers behind the highest quality tech books in the industry – O’Reilly, The Pragmatic Bookshelf, and Manning. O’Reilly and The Pragmatic Bookshelf passed, but Manning said yes.

Mental model of publishers in 2025. I pitched my book to the 3 most reputable tech publishers

I learned a lot by working with a publisher: the process of preparing a book to be ready for sale is much more involved than I’d assumed! I even came to appreciate why publishers may keep up to 85-90% of sales revenue, with authors typically getting 7-15% of royalties from print sales.

The chart below sets out the publication process at a typical tech book publisher, from the author pitching their idea for a book, all the way through to its launch:

Steps to publish a book with a publisher

Unfortunately, after three months with Manning and one editorial review, it was clear that the publisher and my book weren’t a good match. At the time, Manning had a very opinionated template for creating books which I felt pushed my own in a direction I wasn’t happy with: I felt the book would be dumbed down, and that following some of the guidance would weaken it. Also, I was less comfortable with some of the conditions and feared my hands could be tied if I wanted to share draft material online,. Also, I would not be able to choose the book title. So, we parted ways. You live and learn!

I shared more details about my experience of working with publishers in this article, including the financials of choosing a publisher as a writer.

2. Self-publishing

The biggest downside of not having a publisher is the lack of deadline pressure. Below is the rough structure I used for writing my book:

  1. Getting the idea and the motivation
  2. Rough outline
  3. Procrastination about the topic
  4. Table of contents
  5. Writing the draft – the longest part of all
  6. Copyediting
  7. Content feedback
  8. Final copyedit
  9. More procrastination about the final draft
  10. Production layout editing: getting the book ready for print
  11. Cover design
  12. Test printing
  13. Launch planning
  14. Launch!

Weighted table of contents

One very useful thing I took from Manning’s process is to start the book with a table of contents, where you estimate the rough number of pages one section will be about. This is helpful because the published version should not be too long or too short, so this helps set its scope and how topics should be tackled.

Here is an example of the weighted table of contents for one chapter:

My weighted table of contents

This exercise resembled estimating the size of a piece of work during the planning for a software project, and provided a sense of what the longer and shorter parts of the book would be.

Write, write, write

The biggest part of writing a book is… writing it. I tried to have some regular cadence of writing, but struggled to get into one. I ended up making progress in bursts, and shared drafts on social media – like this one on healthy and unhealthy teams. This generated more ideas and I continued writing.

It’s easy to get distracted and procrastinate. A 400-page book is too large a project to take on in one go, and sometimes parts of the book change shape: an estimated 4 pages on something can turn into 20 pages a week later. It was like treading water: not making much progress with the book as a whole and being distracted by interesting topics.

Starting The Pragmatic Engineer Newsletter to finish the book

Two years into writing the book, its completion was forever 6 months away. I realized my writing process, with no publisher involved, was inefficient and unfocused.

In August 2021, I started The Pragmatic Engineer Newsletter with the hope that writing a weekly newsletter would speed up completion of the book. My thinking was to send out a draft version of a part of the book as a newsletter every few weeks.

The idea was sound, but I quickly realized that online newsletter issues can be a lot more in-depth than a chapter in a book can be, due to the issue of space constraints. Also, newsletters are timely by nature (covering what’s happening, right now), whereas a book often covers ideas that remain relevant for years.

I am thankful to have started The Pragmatic Engineer Newsletter, but doing so didn’t hasten the publication of The Software Engineer’s Guidebook. It actually delayed it by another two years.

Tools I used for self-publishing

There’s many tools available for writing a book, not including new AI tools for generating ideas – or even doing the writing in certain cases. Here’s the tools I chose:

  • Writing process: Google Docs and Craft. Most of my drafts were in Google Docs, and all my ideas and notes went into Craft.
  • Creating an ebook: Vellum. A one-off purchase, which helps generate e-book and print versions. I didn’t use it for print generation, as the software seems to be optimized for fiction.
  • Print layout: Overleaf. The PDF layout for print took significant effort, as I wanted to have an index in the end of the book. I ended up hiring a LateX expert who helped create a nice print layout, which would have been challenging for me to do, and time-consuming to learn.
  • Reader feedback: Betabooks. I wasn’t entirely satisfied as it’s pretty janky to use. In hindsight, sharing drafts in Google Docs and letting readers add comments might have been equally effective.
  • ISBN numbers: when self publishing, you need to purchase your own ISBN and these depend on your region. ISBN Services is a popular choice for the US. I’m residing in the Netherlands, so used the Dutch Mijn ISBN.
  • Book cover design: Canva. Lots of templates to work with, and it’s easy to work with the exact size requirements for print covers, as well. The cover you see today is my wife’s work.

Publishing platforms

I publish my books on these platforms:

  • Print book: Amazon Kindle Direct Publishing (KDP) and Ingram Spark. Amazon covers most countries – but not all; notable gaps include India. Ingram Spark allows libraries and bookshops to order the book. If your title is not expected to be highly popular, Amazon KDP will probably be more than sufficient for print distribution.
  • Ebook: Gumroad (to sell the ebook DRM-free), Amazon KDP, Kobo Store, Google Play, and PublishDrive. Publishdrive is a neat service that publishes ebooks and audiobooks to all large and small platforms. In hindsight, I’d probably just use them to publish to all major platforms.
  • Audiobook: Voices (formerly: Findaway Voices). For some strange reason, Amazon’s audiobook platform (ACX) only allows residents of the US, Canada, UK, and Ireland, to publish on it. Being a resident in the Netherlands, I had to go with a third-party platform to publish to Amazon. Voices used to be owned by Spotify, and has been spun out into its own company. If I published today, I’d likely just go with PublishDrive for my audiobook, as well.

There’s a long tail of ebook and audiobook platforms, and it makes sense to use an aggregator service that publishes to most, if not all of them, and which then sends a combined payout, instead of lots of small payments from each platform.

Don’t forget the launch

Going with a publisher has the benefit that they coordinate launch activities, and also list your book on their New Releases pages, which leads to added awareness. Superior publishers also reach out to potential reviewers, and are hands-on in helping with the launch.

I knew I couldn’t count on launch support, so built a landing page where I collected emails of people who wanted to know when the book was released. To incentivize this, I provided details about the book, and the table of contents.

In hindsight, this was one of the best things I did: a good chunk of sales at launch came from people who received the email that the book was ready for purchase. Here’s how the book’s website looked, back then.

Landing page for the book, pre-publication

Another approach that worked well was having a dedicated social media account for the book, where I shared drafts while working on certain chapters. I was surprised by how many reshares a page or two of the work-in-progress book got, like this one.

One of many examples of sharing a work-in-progress version of a chapter. Source: X

Still, the biggest benefit of sharing drafts was that I got nearly as much feedback from social media users as from beta readers.

Procrastination is real – deal with it

Writing “the book” I’d always wanted made me freeze at times: it was something I’d never done before, it was a large project, and I wanted to get everything right.

In the end, as with software, “done is better than perfect”. Just like when working on a big software launch, the best way to make progress is to forget about how many people might use the product, and to just focus on the next task to complete… then the next… then the next.

It was amusing to remind myself that tech products I’d worked on were used by many times more people than the book could ever hope to reach – so why procrastinate? Plus, mistakes can be fixed with ebooks, they are trivial to do with a re-publish. Of course, this isn’t possible in the same way with print books, but print-on-demand means issues can be resolved in future copies.

3. Traveling to Mongolia to meet the startup which translated my book

An unexpected highlight of publishing the book was ending up in Mongolia in June of this year, at a small-but-mighty startup called Nasha Tech. This was because the startup translated my book into the Mongolian language. Here’s what happened:

A little over a year ago, a small startup from Mongolia reached out, asking if they could translate the book. I was skeptical it would happen because the unit economics appeared pretty unfavorable. Mongolia’s population is 3.5 million; much smaller than other countries where professional publishers had offered to do a translation (Taiwan: 23M, South Korea: 51M, Germany: 84M people).

But I agreed to the initiative, and expected to hear nothing back. To my surprise, nine months later the translation was ready, and the startup printed 500 copies on the first run. They invited me to a book signing in the capital city of Ulaanbaatar, and soon I was on my way to meet the team, and to understand why a small tech company translated my book!

Japanese startup vibes in Mongolia

The startup behind the translation is called Nasha Tech; a mix of a startup and a digital agency. Founded in 2018, its main business has been agency work, mainly for companies in Japan. They are a group of 30 people, mostly software engineers.

Nasha Tech’s offices in Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia

Their offices resembled a mansion more than a typical workplace, and everyone takes their shoes off when arriving at work and switches to “office slippers”. I encountered the same vibe later at Cursor’s headquarters in San Francisco, in the US.

Nasha Tech found a niche of working for Japanese companies thanks to one of its cofounders studying in Japan, and building up connections while there. Interestingly, another cofounder later moved to Silicon Valley, and advises the company from afar.

The business builds the “Uber Eats of Mongolia”. Outside of working as an agency, Nasha Tech builds its own products. The most notable is called TokTok, the “UberEats of Mongolia”, which is the leading food delivery app in the capital city. The only difference between TokTok and other food delivery apps is scale: the local market is smaller than in some other cities. At a few thousand orders per day, it might not be worthwhile for an international player like Uber or Deliveroo to enter the market.

The TokTok app: a customer base of 800K, 500 restaurants, and 400 delivery riders

The tech stack Nasha Tech typically uses:

  • Frontend: React / Next, Vue / Nuxt, TypeScript, Electron, Tailwind, Element UI
  • Backend and API: NodeJS (Express, Hono, Deno, NestJS), Python (FastAPI, Flask), Ruby on Rails, PHP (Laravel), GraphQL, Socket, Recoil
  • Mobile: Flutter, React Native, Fastlane
  • Infra: AWS, GCP, Docker, Kubernetes, Terraform
  • AI & ML: GCP Vertex, AWS Bedrock, Elasticsearch, LangChain, Langfuse

AI tools are very much widespread, and today the team uses Cursor, GitHub Copilot, Claude Code, OpenAI Codex, and Junie by Jetbrains.

I detected very few differences between Nasha Tech and other “typical” startups I’ve visited, in terms of the vibe and tech stack. Devs working on TokTok were very passionate about how to improve the app and reduce the tech debt accumulated by prioritizing the launch. A difference for me was the language and target market: the main language in the office is, obviously, Mongolian, and the products they build like TokTok also target the Mongolian market, or the Japanese one when working with clients.

One thing I learned was that awareness about the latest tools has no borders: back in June, a dev at Nasha Tech was already telling me that Claude Code was their daily driver, even though the tool had been released for barely a month at that point!

Why translate the book into Mongolian?

Nasha Tech was the only non-book publisher to express interest in translating the book. But why did they do it?

I was told the idea came from software engineer Suuribaatar Sainjargal, who bought and enjoyed the English-language version. He suggested translating the book so that everyone at the company could read it, not only those fluent in English.

Nasha Tech actually had some in-house experience of translation. A year earlier, in 2024, the company translated Matt Mochary’s The Great CEO Within as a way to uplevel their leadership team, and to help the broader Mongolian tech ecosystem.

Also, the company’s General Manager, Batutsengel Davaa, happened to have been involved in translating more than 10 books in a previous role. He took the lead in organizing this work, and here’s how the timelines played out:

  • Professional translator: 3 months
  • Technical editor revising the draft translation: 1 month
  • Technical editing #2 by a Support Engineer in Japan: 2 months
  • Technical revision: 15 engineers at Nasha Tech revised the book, with a “divide and conquer” approach: 2 months
  • Final edit and print: 1 month

This was a real team effort. Somehow, this startup managed to produce a high-quality translation in around the same time as it took professional book publishers in my part of the world to do the same!

A secondary goal that Nasha Tech had was to advance the tech ecosystem in Mongolia. There’s understandably high demand for books in the mother tongue; I observed a number of book stands selling these books, and book fairs are also popular. The translation of my book has been selling well, where you can buy the book for 70,000 MNTs (~$19).

Book signing and the Mongolian startup scene

The book launch event was at Mongolia’s startup hub, called IT Park, which offers space for startups to operate in. I met a few working in the AI and fintech spaces – and even one startup producing comics.

Book launch event, and meeting startups inside Mongolia’s IT Park

I had the impression that the government and private sector are investing heavily in startups, and want to help more companies to become breakout success stories:

  • IT Park report: the country’s tech sector is growing ~20%, year-on-year. The combined valuation of all startups in Mongolia is at $130M, today. It’s worth remembering that location is important for startups: being in hubs like the US, UK, and India confers advantages that can be reflected in valuations.
  • Mongolian Startup Ecosystem Report 2023: the average pre-seed valuation of a startup in Mongolia is $170K, seed valuation at $330K, and Series A valuation at $870K. The numbers reflect market size; for savvy investors, this could also be an opportunity to invest early. I met a Staff Software Engineer at the book signing event who is working in Silicon Valley at Google, and invests and advises in startups in Mongolia.
  • Mongolian startup ecosystem Map: better-known startups in the country.

Two promising startups from Mongolia: Chimege (an AI+voice startup) AND Global (fintech). Thanks very much to the Nasha Tech team for translating the book – keep up the great work!

4. How much did my book earn?

There’s usually little information about the key topic of how much authors make from their books being published, beyond “not much”. Author Justin Garrison shared that his co-authored title Cloud Native Infrastructure earned $11,554 in its first year – and without three unexpected sponsorships, that amount would’ve been $3.500. Conventional wisdom states you should not write a book for money, but for the other benefits like building your status as an expert in a domain, or exploring a topic in more depth.

A notable exception to this rule is Designing Data Intensive Applications, whose author Martin Kleppman made $477,916 in royalties in the first 6 years of publication, as he shared. Martin published with O’Reilly, and the book sold 108,000 copies, generating around $4.50 per copy in royalties for the author. Still, Designing Data Intensive Applications is one of the most successful books, and Martin argues that a book’s real value lies in the value it creates:

“Writing a book is an activity that creates more value than it captures. What I mean with this is that the benefits that readers get from it are greater than the price they paid for the book. To back this up, let’s try roughly estimating the value created by my book.

It’s hard to quantify that, but let’s say that the people who applied ideas from the book avoided a bad decision that would have taken them one month of engineering time to rectify. (I’d actually love to claim that the time saving is much higher, but let’s be conservative in our estimates.) Thus, the 10,000 readers who applied the knowledge freed up an estimated 10,000 months, or 833 years, of engineering time to spend on things that are more useful than digging yourself out of a mess.

If I spend 2.5 years writing a book, and it saves other people 833 years of time in aggregate, that is over 300x leverage. If we assume an average engineering salary on the order of $100k, that’s $80m of value created. Readers have spent approximately $4m buying those 100,000 books, so the value created is about 20 times greater than the value captured. And this is based on some very conservative estimates.”

The Software Engineer’s Guidebook will probably be another exception; it has sold 40,000 copies and netted $611,911 in royalties in the two years since publishing:

Cumulative royalties for The Software Engineer’s Guidebook

Here is how revenue from different platforms adds up:

Print:

  • Amazon KDP: 29,806 copies, $470,000 in royalties ($16 per book)
  • Ingram Spark: 1,316, copies, $10,322 in royalties ($8 per book)

Ebooks:

  • Kindle: 3,909 copies, $42,992 royalties ($11 per book)
  • DRM-free ebooks: 2,713 sales, $54,963 royalties ($20 per book).
  • Other ebooks: 388 copies, $6,882 in royalties ($17 per book). 90% of sales came from iTunes, Google Play and Kobo.

Audiobook:

  • Amazon, Spotify, and other platforms: unclear how many purchases, $6,511 royalties (Audible typically pays around $1.50-3.50 per audiobook, Spotify closer to $9)
  • DRM-free ebook: 241 sales, $3,241 royalties ($13 per book)
  • I previously shared more about how I created the audiobook

Translations:

  • 5 languages, $17,000 in upfront royalty payments (South Korea: $5,000, Japan: $4,500, Germany: €3,000, Taiwan: $2,000, China: $2,000)

Total: $611,911 in royalties, circa 40,000 in copies sold (38,373 copies, plus audiobooks, plus foreign translations that don’t have exact numbers)

These are good numbers for a tech book, and it enjoyed the advantage of being published after The Pragmatic Engineer newsletter found an audience online. Thank you to everyone who purchased a copy of the book or gifted one!

It’s interesting, as someone who self-published print and audiobook versions of their title, that royalties per book sold are highest in paperback, and much lower for the ebook and the audiobook. This is because Amazon takes 70% of the purchase price of the Kindle ebook, and 75% for the audiobook, but only 40% for the print book, in marketplace fees.

Self-publishing definitely helped substantially increase the royalties generated from the book, which would be 4-8x lower if done via a publisher. At the same time, self publishing increased the amount of time and effort I needed to invest.

5. Learnings from writing my book

The impact of a book is hard to know with certainty. When I publish a newsletter article or a podcast episode, the feedback is almost immediate: I get comments, emails, and mentions about the contents for a few days – perhaps a week or two. After that, I rarely hear feedback again.

But I run into people at events and conferences who say the book helped them focus more on their career, or get a desired promotion to senior-or-above.

A lot more readers than expected find the book via recommendations or gifting. I hear stories about my book being recommended or purchased for engineers by managers, or peers, or friends – and then they felt obliged to start to read it. This kind of dynamic also exists with articles and podcast episodes, but my sense is that being given a book is a very strong nudge to invest time in the resource.

Good books stay valuable for longer – that’s why they’re hard to write. The final 18 months of writing the book mostly involved editing the existing draft. I tried to remove details that were likely to age poorly in the near to medium term future – like mentions of specific frameworks, or things that felt like short-lived fads (e.g: “web3” engineering as a category, which seems to have mostly vanished from the discourse.

Even so, I got burnt by the fast-changing nature of tech. In my last edits, I added short sections on AI, about how it’s a useful tool to learn languages with, or for getting unstuck. I gave examples of tools that were popular in 2023, and predicted they would remain relevant: ChatGPT, GitHub Copilot, and Google Bard. I figured that OpenAI would be around for at least 5 years, and that Microsoft and Google know how to name their products.

I was wrong: Google renamed Bard to Gemini four months after my book was published. In response, I removed all product mentions from an updated version of the book: who knows when the search giant will change the name again!

Amazon’s print-on-demand service is incredibly good. Amazon prints books on demand in 10+ markets, and ships these on-demand books to even more countries. Books printed this offer the highest price-per-value across all print-on-demand services I found. Amazon’s KDP is considerably more price efficient compared to the other major print-on-demand player, Ingram Spark.

One paperback copy of my book (a 413 page book) costs $8 to print with Amazon. With Ingram Spark it’s double this: $16! This is a massive difference in printing costs that is hard to ignore, and is one reason to choose Amazon’s print-on-demand service as primary distribution for print books. This explains why my royalties per book are $16 with Amazon prints, and $8 with Ingram Spark prints.

Ebook, audiobook and print sales reporting feels stuck in the 1990s. Both ebooks and audiobooks are digital products, so you’d expect it would be possible to get near-real time sales data. But the reality is that it’s not: audiobook platforms like Spotify and Audible release reports monthly (as I understand), and good luck trying to figure out which sales equate to what! This is after Audible takes 80% from sales.

Ebook reporting is similarly slow, due to sales being reported in a delayed fashion. There are so many audiobook and ebook platforms to buy on that it’s only sensible to use an aggregator like Publishdrive or Voices. This adds one more layer of abstraction and more reporting delays. I understand that print sales take months to be reported, but did not expect it to be the case with audiobooks.

Even today, I have no idea how to find out how many people have listened to the audiobook, and by now I would have hoped for better reporting. It shows that if there are few suppliers in a segment (like audiobook publishers, who use these reporting tools) and not much competition: companies can get away with poor tooling.

Print reporting is perhaps even more unusable. Ingram Spark is one of the biggest print-on-demand providers - but it’s not possible to get a report about a sales period longer then a year. The cherry on the cake is how if you query a period longer than 100 days, they can only email these reports:

Ingram Spark’s reporting interface and functionality feels stuck 10+ years in the past. Responsive web applications, anyone?

This is a portal that has had no usability testing — and customer seem to put up with it:

Ingram Spark: instead of implementing queuing of reports, they just push the error onto the user. A hostile user experience in 2025

Amazon has an unhealthy monopoly on the audiobook and ebook sectors. Amazon generated more revenue from books sold on its site than I did, as a self-published author:

  • 75% of revenue for all audiobooks sold via Audible
  • 70% for all Kindle ebooks
  • 40% for all print books as Amazon marketplace fees

That Amazon has a take rate of 75% for audiobooks and 70% for Kindle ebooks (those priced above $10) and still controls most of the market, makes this segment look like a monopoly. I offer my ebooks and audiobooks as DRM-free versions, and am happy to see more customers choose these options over the Kindle or Audible ones. Still, market forces alone don’t feel strong enough to challenge Amazon’s dubious pricing and practices. I wrote more about Amazon’s monopolistic audiobook practices.

Looking back on the experience of writing my book, it was worth it for the thinking and organization that it forced on me. It has been an unusually long professional project that stretched across four years and I’ve learnt a lot from the process: it forced me to think deeply about topics like the importance of software architecture, and figuring out how a business works, as a Staff+ engineer. It forced me to rewrite and refine my ideas multiple times, and with each rewrite came fresh ideas and a clearer understanding of the subject. This is what really matters for software engineers to progress professionally in the industry, I believe.

Ultimately, I hope the book generates more “wealth” by helping out devs in a career rut, or who are seeking inspiration to get stronger as engineers. Obviously, commercial success is nice – and I shared those numbers in the spirit of transparency because I believe in the value of detailed, in-depth, and thoroughly researched and written information. Every anecdote helps dispel the myth that books cannot be decent earners for their authors.

If you’re in the process of writing a book, why not get in touch about doing a guest post in this publication? Personally, I’ve found guest posts tend to be a good fit for engineers midway through writing a book!