The theme for The Sydney Writers’ Festival 2025 was In this Together. In a world of echo chambers, polarisation and fragmentation, this was a timely choice.
The opening session introduced this theme from a range of perspectives. Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander author and activist Thomas Mayo spoke of the need for us to unite and keep moving forward, despite the painful referendum result.
Yuwaalaraay musician and author Nardi Simpson shared her experience of being trolled on social media and of wanting to retreat, hide and escape from the vitriol (Editor’s Note: Read our full-length interview with Nardi Simpson on our front page.)
British poet Lemn Sissay poked fun at the writer’s ego, which forgets that it takes a community to publish a book.
Finally, Jeanette Winterson, author of Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit, encouraged us to think about what it means to be human today. “We cannot go back to old ways, but need to imagine ways to creatively navigate the treacherous paths that lie before us, in the hope that we become better, not worse, humans.”
Imagination was also a theme in author Anna Funder’s closing ceremony address, in which she conveyed to the audience the need for humanity in an age of AI. Referring to her critically acclaimed book Wifedom, she quipped, “AI would know Orwell but not his wife”. Festival CEO Brooke Webb also spoke about the popularity of the Writers’ Festival and wondered whether people are looking for more “bold, open spaces” to explore new ideas and imagine the future.
But how do we navigate the disruption these stories might cause? In the session Beyond the Self, Daniel Browning powerfully explained: “I write because someone will say it didn’t happen”, while Thomas Mayo writes to break down stereotypes of Aboriginal men.
In the closing session, Webb told the audience of over a thousand that the Festival – and indeed the act of reading itself – is an “antidote to the algorithms” that try to control us. She ended with an informal “blessing”, inviting the audience, after a frantic week of festivities, to go into a contrasting week of exploring the world of ideas by quietly reading the wonderful books they had just bought.
