The Porch Light Is On: Why Books by Humans Matter More Than Ever

Last night, I stood in a room full of people celebrating books—human-authored books—at the Porchlight Business Book Awards ceremony. My book What Matters Next was among the forty titles on the longlist, selected from more than 700 submissions. We didn’t take home an award, but standing in that room felt like something more important than winning.
I believe in books. They’re a timeless, versatile technology that’s deeply human. The story of books is the story of human development—our curiosity, our need to share knowledge, our drive to connect across time and space.
But it’s easy to feel that belief tested right now.
The Quiet Radicalism of Human Thought
The ceremony’s hosts framed the evening around a theme that landed harder than I expected: the urgent importance of books and human speech in this moment. They weren’t being melodramatic.
We’re living through a time when AI systems are being trained on the works of human writers, effectively co-opting the written word. And we’re living through a time when human speech and assembly—the very foundations of democratic participation—are under pressure in ways that feel newly visceral. In recent weeks, ICE operations in American cities have resulted in the deaths of citizens who showed up to bear witness, to protest, to exercise the most basic right of presence and voice. Whatever your political tradition, when people die for showing up, the question of what we’re allowed to say and where we’re allowed to gather becomes urgent.
Books exist in this ecosystem of human expression. They are how we preserve thought that can’t be silenced by force, how we transmit ideas across time to people we’ll never meet, how we participate in the long conversation about what kind of society we want to be.
Porchlight’s announcement struck me as quietly radical. They wrote: “Books remain the best medium we have for making sense of the world and our place in it. Even in an era of artificial intelligence, books authored by humans are still the best technology for conveying detailed information and complex ideas across time and space.”
Books authored by humans. That phrase shouldn’t need emphasis. Yet here we are.
They continued: “These 40 books offer a kind of panoramic view of the world we’re building and reinforce a simple and hopeful truth: the future is something we help create.”
That’s the part that matters. The future isn’t something hurtling toward us—it’s something we’re actively building through the decisions we make, the systems we design, the words we write, the ideas we share.
Why Books Are Different
Books are one of the most important technologies we have for shaping that future, precisely because they ask something of us that almost nothing else does anymore: sustained attention across time.
They ask us to slow down. To follow complex arguments through their contradictions. To hold multiple ideas in tension. To develop the cognitive capacities that democracy itself depends on.
In an era when AI can generate endless text, what matters is not just words but wisdom—the kind that comes from lived experience, from grappling with hard questions, from making meaning in the face of uncertainty.
In the Introduction to What Matters Next, I tried to articulate this challenge:
Coming up as a leader in the technology sector, I’ve always been fascinated with the future, always thinking about what’s next. But the future is a tricky thing. It’s a shifting, nebulous entity, always just out of reach. Yet we are asked to make decisions, to take actions that will have lasting impacts on this uncertain future. So how do we navigate this balance between current realities and future visions? And how do we do it so that it has any meaning for us, for others, for society as a whole? I believe the answer lies in taking the next most meaningful step.
This is why I write. Not to add more content to an oversaturated world, but to help leaders make better decisions—decisions that honor human dignity, that recognize complexity, that build toward a future we actually want to inhabit.
The Discipline of Hope
Standing in that room last night, surrounded by authors (and their publishers and promoters) who had each spent years developing an idea, building an argument with care, offering frameworks others could use—I felt the weight of what we’re all trying to do.
To be clear about the value of human thought and human expression.
To recognize that the careful work of making sense of complexity is not a luxury but a necessity.
To practice what I call strategic optimism: seeing challenges clearly without getting mired in doom, acknowledging obstacles while focusing on achievable paths forward.
My book goes on to argue:
If the future feels uncertain, it’s not so much that the future is uncertain. It might just be that your approach to the future might not be strategic enough—or not optimistic enough. Or both.
This isn’t naive positivity. It’s a discipline. Porchlight is right: every book is an act of influence. Every framework we share, every idea we develop, every decision we help leaders make better—these are the meaningful steps that shape what comes next.
The Porch Light Is On
The metaphor of a porch light feels right for this moment. It’s small. It doesn’t illuminate everything. But it signals something important: someone is home. Someone is paying attention. Someone has left a light on for you.
That’s what human-authored books do. They say: I thought carefully about this. I wrestled with these ideas. I’m offering you the best of what I’ve learned. Come in.
In a time when AI can generate text and the future feels uncertain, we need people who are willing to think carefully, write honestly, and advocate clearly for what is good and right and human-centered.
We need people who will leave the porch light on.
Kate O’Neill is the Tech Humanist—a strategic advisor, author, and keynote speaker who helps leaders navigate complexity and uncertainty. Her book What Matters Next was longlisted for the 2025 Porchlight Business Book Awards.
