Why Stories Matter

Believe it or not, stories are the most powerful devices humans ever built. They shape how we see, decide, and act. Turns chaos into something we can live with, and sometimes, something we can build on. We often underestimate that power. I did too, until I realized how completely narrative sat behind every thought, action, decision, and reaction in my life.

So why do stories matter?

Not as dogma, not as an absolute theory, but as a lived truth: stories are the tool we use to organize reality.

My grandfather, a tall man who looked like he belonged in a lecture hall rather than the factory floor he worked on for decades, used to tell me stories whenever I misbehaved. He made them up on the spot, then later began writing them down.

Eventually, one recurrent character emerged: Felix, the firefighter cat.

Felix knew that helping others would still get him burned. He did the right thing anyway.

With time, I understood what my grandfather was doing. He was not just entertaining me. He was encoding values: courage without theatrics, service without applause, sacrifice without complaint. He was quietly saying, this is what a good life feels like in the small moments, even when it costs you.

Because stories work below the surface, I grew into those values almost by osmosis. In my own way, I became a Felix.

Stories, as technological devices and psychological phenomena, shape subconscious mind and direct our conscious processes. Through themes, characters, morals, and messages, they encode values and ideals. They pass down information in a way that is clear and effective, and carry something primal and deeply human.

We have adapted stories across many mediums. We began with cave paintings and fireside myths. Those became books. Books became paintings. Paintings became photography. Photography became Cinema. Cinema became video. Video games. Then social media. TikTok. YouTube. Different formats, one act: storytelling.

In his seminal book, Into the Woods, John Yorke writes:

The idea that we're here and then we die, that all circumstances are random and all achievements are finally futile, is too overwhelming to contemplate. Staring into the abyss, we find that we are incapable of not ordering the world. We simply cannot conceive of the random or arbitrary; in order to stay sane we must impose some kind of pattern.

Stories give us a way to bring order to chaos, and meaning into the void.

We know we will die. We know we will not outlast this thing called life. But with stories, we can take something from the past, give it context in the present, and leave something for the future.

Thus, stories become the vehicle by which we accumulate knowledge and wisdom.

They carry information, a set of rules, a philosophy of life. They are the most powerful device in the history of humankind. Whether we like it or not, whether we believe it or not, they are the bedrock of civilization. Stories matter, because they are the basis of who we are and the thread that has woven us into existence.

They are the legacy of mankind.