Every year I start a journal.
And every year I quit after three days.
Brian Eno used to do the same, I think. Or maybe it was someone else. I can’t remember. But as someone I can’t quite remember once said (welcome to the MetaMemory era), forgetting the quote is proof you actually understood it.
And so here we are again. January 1st. The annual ritual of New Year’s resolutions. Only this time, done completely half-baked and unapologetically chaotic—just the way I like them.
For 2026, I won’t promise to slow down. That has never worked, and it’s not about to start working now that I’m inching dangerously close to fifty. As my accountant (hi, Silvana!) likes to say: we’ll rest when we’re dead. And, for better or worse, I’m still very much alive.
What I want in 2026 is less noise. Less time sitting on startup boards promising to “revolutionize the guest experience” with yet another GPT wrapper. More time doing what actually matters to me: research, writing, studying.
Academic work. Yes, let’s say it without embarrassment. The mythology of the self-made genius with a middle-school diploma has run its course.
My mantra for 2026 is simple: if it’s easy, it’s not worth learning—nor teaching. And if it’s hyped, it’s already past the adoption curve. We’re in laggard territory, even if no one wants to say it out loud.
No more five-minute keynote fluff. No more “you need to leave something practical because hoteliers aren’t that smart.” No more “comment XXX on Instagram to subscribe and get the list of tools I used for this video.” That’s not artificial intelligence. That’s just low-grade, last-mile opportunism. And I want no part of it.
I want a year of obsessive, relentless study. Maybe a new book—so I can collect another royalty check for 47 euros and 75 cents (publisher omitted). A sort of techno-Leopardi with a Perplexity Pro subscription. Hunchback included.
To search for the middle path—like Siddhartha suggested—between toxic technophilia and boomer-style techno-Luddism à la “Good Morning Coffee” memes.
In other words: stay punk, but with proper footnotes.
And an ORCID code.
See you next week.
SIMONE PUORTO
