Science
Always Returning to Bad Thoughts? These 3 Things Help Stop the Cycle
12 December 2025
The Nobel Prize in Literature was once a symbol of genius. Today, it increasingly prompts a shrug. Why have readers stopped caring about it—and who is to blame for this decline?
Do you know who people like László Krasznahorkai, Han Kang, Jon Fosse, or Abdulrazak Gurnah are? I confess, for me, they might as well be soccer players or cartoon characters. I simply have no clue.
Meanwhile, these are the most recent recipients of the Nobel Prize in Literature. Generally, a well-read person used to at least hear of Nobel laureates. Even if they did not know the writer’s books, their name should have buzzed somewhere nearby.
After all, Nobel laureates included famous writers such as Thomas Mann, George Bernard Shaw, Herman Hesse, William Faulkner, John Steinbeck, Ernest Hemingway, Albert Camus, William Golding, Samuel Beckett, Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn, Jean-Paul Sartre, and so on and so forth. Their work might have been liked or disliked, but regardless of subjective tastes, they were NAMES.
Names that rang like bells for every educated person, writers whose books sparked admiration or controversy, who were talked about, admired, and mentioned in ordinary, private conversations.
Today, Nobel laureates matter to no one except a handful of experts in specific literary circles (and even that group sometimes struggles to recognize the given author). They evoke no emotion beyond surprise that such a person even exists.
I wrote about the Literary Nobel Prize a few years ago when Olga Tokarczuk was awarded, and I will take the liberty of quoting that text exactly, as it is universal, and nothing has changed since its publication:
“Here is a brief rundown of the Literary Nobel Prize awarding procedure: there is a body called the Swedish Academy. It has a tradition dating back to the 18th century, and it consists of EIGHTEEN members elected for life. By whom? By other Academy members. The Academy selects a Nobel Committee from its ranks, consisting of FIVE people. And this Committee conducts research, selection, and finally chooses the candidates for the Literary Nobel Prize. Therefore, one can say without exaggeration that the Literary Nobel Prize is an arbitrary distinction awarded by five Swedish writers and literary critics, then submitted for approval to the eighteen members of the Academy. Is there really a reason to make such a big fuss about this award? Is the opinion of five Swedes about what they like and dislike really supposed to be so important to the world and literature lovers?”
The Literary Nobel Prize today has absolutely nothing to do with a writer’s popularity, their attractiveness in the publishing and bookstore market. Worse yet, it poorly corresponds with the real literary merit of their works.
Of course, immediately after receiving the Nobel, the author gains temporary global fame, their books are translated into foreign languages, and they travel around the globe at the invitation of various foundations and associations.
In a way, the effect of popularity can be stronger in the laureate’s home country and have little to do with the literary value of their work. For instance, buying the books of Olga Tokarczuk, a leftist activist delivering anti-Polish tirades, was considered a political demonstration and declaration in circles associated with the “enlightened elites.”
However, few of her fervent pseudo-admirers and acolytes bothered to open and read her books, as this is simply not literature for minds formatted by certain media (TV stations like TVN/TVP). To understand it, one needs to know words longer than three syllables and be able to read more than one page of text in one go without getting a headache…
Thus, being photographed with her book in hand was quite enough for most Tokarczuk enthusiasts, as they deemed this method to be an accession statement to the elite company of the enlightened. From the communist era in Poland, I recall similar behaviors when many people visibly displayed James Joyce’s Ulysses on their shelves (adjusting the proportions).
Because it was proper to own the book, even though barely one percent of those who owned it actually read it. This is somewhat understandable, as it truly is a text requiring extensive reading, patience, attention, and a certain degree of self-discipline.
Every author probably has moments in their professional life when they like to be well-regarded by certain, let’s call them, “influential, opinion-making councils.” To receive an award, a medal, an honorary diploma, or bask in the praise of critics and reviewers. But, the more reasonable segment of writers eventually begins to understand that those praises, diplomas, and medals are quite irrelevant, as they merely reflect the private opinion of a specific, narrow council. A handful of people.
The jury of a competition, for example. And the only thing that truly matters and should genuinely motivate every artist is the sales of their work. Because when ordinary, normal people “from the street,” people like you and me, vote for a given artist with their wallets, that is the greatest tribute and the nicest proof of recognition.

After all, the choice is not just between one book and another. The choice lies among various consumer goods. We buy a book, but we could have gone to the cinema, a pub, or a restaurant, bought a few beers, a video game, or perfume, or paid for a streaming service. And so on, and so forth.
Therefore, genuine artistic pride comes from a reader voting for you with their own wallet. As an author, I am always deeply grateful to my readers for two things: the money they spent on my books and the time they devoted to reading them. When I imagine how many other ways they could have spent that money and time, their choice seems all the more valuable!
To postulate that the Literary Nobel Prize should be awarded to the best-selling writers would, of course, be grotesque and pointless. Other awards exist for that purpose (in Poland, for example, the Empik Bestsellers), where only popularity is valued.
The Nobel, in the minds of its founders, was meant not just to honor the known and liked, but to distinguish philosophical or ethical depth, profound impact on the world and people, stimulation of thought, provocation of important questions about the state of civilization, or commend the exceptional mastery of literary language.
So, the award was meant not so much to follow prevailing trends as to reveal or even create new ones. And we cannot deny that in many cases, it was awarded with great accuracy. However, we also cannot deny that in many cases (especially recently), the jury completely missed the mark, being guided not by artistic merit but by ideological motives or social sympathies.
Sure, nobody will advocate for authors of global bestsellers like J.K. Rowling, George R.R. Martin, Stephen King, Andrzej Sapkowski, James Patterson, John Grisham, and Danielle Steel to receive the Literary Nobel Prize.
In fact, if you want my opinion, I would prefer a thousand times over receiving some silly Nobel Prize to having my work adapted into as many films and series as King’s.
I have never envied any Nobel laureate, but I enormously envy Rowling, King, and Martin for having their books successfully adapted and being able to watch their creations told by other artists through a different medium. Thus, please, if you like me, do not wish me a Nobel, but the realization of a high-budget series that captivates viewers. And a Hollywood blockbuster. Especially since, in the final assessment, that is what will matter: whether we left any mark in the minds and hearts of the audience. And how long that mark will last when we are gone.
I fear that in the case of most current Nobel laureates, that mark will not only disappear after their death, but it either never existed or evaporated moments after they received the award.
Read the original article in Polish: Upadek literackiego Nobla. Dlaczego nikt nie czyta noblistów?