By: Alexandra Perez
Jenny Watz thinks the biggest problem in business publishing right now is not a lack of books.
It’s the proliferation of them.
Books are everywhere. Everyone has one “coming soon.” Everyone has a draft. Everyone has a Kindle upload in progress. And now, thanks to artificial intelligence, some people have an entire manuscript by lunchtime.
The issue is not production, it’s trust.
AI has made publishing faster than ever. Entire books can be generated in hours. Titles can be uploaded overnight. Content can be produced at a volume the industry has never seen before. But Watz argues that speed is not the real story. The real story is what happens when readers stop believing what they are reading.
Business books have always been a tool of authority. They signal that an entrepreneur has organized ideas, articulated a framework, and offered a point of view that carries weight. But in an era where language can be manufactured instantly, the value of the book is no longer guaranteed by its existence.
Watz sees the market splitting into two categories: books written for publication and books written for belief.
AI didn’t invent low-quality publishing. Self-publishing opened that door years ago, and with that came plenty of greatness and plenty of nonsense. But AI has accelerated the nonsense. It’s now possible to flood the market with content so quickly that readers barely have time to ask whether anyone involved actually thought about what they were saying.
Watz has seen books released with raw AI prompts still sitting inside the text, like a sticky note the author forgot to remove. That’s not innovation. That’s negligence.
“AI can assist,” Watz says, “but it can’t replace discernment.”
That word is central to her philosophy. Discernment is what separates thought leadership from content production. It’s what tells an author what matters, what doesn’t, and what should never have made it past the draft stage.
AI can generate sentences. It can’t make judgment calls. It can’t decide what belongs. And it certainly can’t take responsibility for meaning.
Watz believes the next era of business publishing won’t be defined by who can produce the most books, but instead by who can produce the most trust.
For entrepreneurs, that distinction is everything.
A business book is not simply a marketing asset. It’s an extension of credibility. If the book feels careless, the business feels careless. If the ideas feel automated, the expertise may also feel automated.
Authority can’t be outsourced, no matter how tempting the shortcut looks.
Watz often reminds entrepreneurs that publishing without clarity can backfire. A book released for the sake of having a book does not build a reputation. It dilutes it.
“A book without purpose can do more harm than good,” she says.
In the AI era, purpose is no longer optional. It is the baseline requirement.
Watz defines clarity as the foundation of any credible business book. Why are you writing it? Who is it for? What should the reader do once they finish it? When those answers are vague, the book becomes directionless.
And directionless books don’t build authority. They become expensive business cards that nobody keeps.
A strong book, Watz argues, provides a path. It doesn’t dump information on the reader and hope something sticks. It guides them with intention.
“Readers want a path from A to B,” Watz says. “They’re looking to the author to guide them.”
That guidance is what builds trust. And trust is what AI cannot replicate.
Watz is not interested in demonizing technology. She uses AI strategically herself, particularly for ideation and clarification exercises. But she draws a sharp line between assistance and substitution.
Assisted AI can sharpen thinking. Generative AI can bypass it entirely.
The difference shows, and readers notice.
There is also a strange irony in all of this. The more content floods the market, the more valuable actual humanity becomes. The more automated books appear, the more readers crave a voice that sounds unmistakably real.
Watz believes readers are entering a new phase of skepticism. Authenticity is no longer a buzzword. It’s proof that a real mind is behind the work.
Thought leadership will increasingly require actual thought.
This is also why Watz rejects the idea that business books must be sterile or overly polished. A book that reads like an academic lecture doesn’t feel trustworthy. Readers want presence. They want a voice. They want to know there is a person behind the framework.
Business books don’t need to be emotional performances, but they do need to be human.
Looking forward, Watz believes the authors who stand out will be those who write with precision, restraint, and purpose. Not those who publish fastest, but those who publish with integrity.
“A business book shouldn’t exist just to be read,” Watz says. “It should exist to amplify authority, attract the right audience, and accelerate growth.”
In a publishing ecosystem being reshaped by AI, credibility is becoming the rarest asset of all, and that is exactly where Jenny Watz has planted her flag.










