¿Qué hacemos con los humanos?

I’ll admit: I rolled my eyes when I saw the AI narrators. *Really?* A book warning about dehumanization… read by robots? But by the third chapter, the choice felt genius—like Molina was daring us to confront the discomfort head-on. Santiago’s voice, with its almost *too* perfect cadence, makes the book’s darker predictions hit harder (imagine a Siri-like tone explaining how algorithms are erasing serendipity). Simón, slightly warmer, handles the historical asides with a gravitas that keeps the listen from feeling like a rant. That said, the pacing *does* stumble in the middle, where Molina’s dense digressions on 13th-century scholastics (fascinating as they are) clash with the breakneck urgency of his tech critiques. A tighter edit could’ve made this a 10-hour knockout instead of a marathon. What sets this apart from other tech-skeptic books (looking at you, *The Age of Surveillance Capitalism*) is Molina’s *rage*—not the cold, detached kind, but the kind that comes from someone who’s spent a lifetime in art and politics watching culture get flayed by attention economies. His chapter on ‘the death of boredom’ (and why we should mourn it) stopped me mid-commute; I actually paused to scribble notes. The production, too, deserves credit: the subtle ambient hum between sections mimics the white noise of our digitized lives, a clever touch that reinforces the theme without overdoing it. My one gripe? The AI voices occasionally mispronounce Spanish philosophical terms (*‘convivencia’* gets butchered once), a jarring reminder that even our critiques of tech are mediated by it. Still, if you’ve ever scrolled Instagram and felt a creeping dread that *something* vital is being lost, this book will name that dread—and then arm you to fight it.