When the news flashed across my screen that the 2025 Nobel Prize in Economics had been awarded to Joel Mokyr, Philippe Aghion, and Peter Howitt, I didn’t think about complex supply-and-demand curves or monetary policy. I honestly just sat back in my chair and smiled. Because this wasn't just a prize for three brilliant economists. This was a prize for us. It was a validation for every startup founder pulling an all-nighter in a garage, every engineer debugging a line of code that could change an industry, and every single person who believes that the best way to predict the future is to build it.
The Royal Swedish Academy of Sciences announced the news, stating the Nobel economics prize goes to 3 researchers for explaining innovation-driven economic growth. That sounds sterile, academic. But what they really did was hand the world’s most prestigious intellectual honor to the very idea of progress itself. They put a Nobel stamp on the chaotic, messy, exhilarating, and often painful process of disruption that powers our modern world. They honored the engine of everything.
For too long, the story of technological progress has been siloed away from the grand narrative of economic history, treated as a lucky accident or an external shock to the system. This prize changes that. It declares, unequivocally, that innovation isn't a side-effect of growth; it is growth. And understanding how that engine works is the single most important question of our time.
So, what did these laureates figure out that’s so revolutionary? Let’s start with Joel Mokyr. His work is a beautiful exploration of one of the biggest questions in human history: why did the Industrial Revolution happen where and when it did, and not fizzle out like so many previous bursts of invention? His answer is both simple and profound. For progress to stick—for it to become a self-sustaining fire instead of a fleeting spark—a society needs more than just clever inventions. It needs to understand why those inventions work.
Mokyr calls this "propositional knowledge"—in simpler terms, it's the scientific theory behind the tool. It's the difference between a blacksmith who knows from trial and error that quenching steel in water makes it harder, and a metallurgist who understands the crystalline structures of carbon and iron that cause the transformation. The blacksmith can make a great sword; the metallurgist can invent stainless steel, design new alloys, and launch an entire materials science industry.
This is the kind of breakthrough that reminds me why I got into this field in the first place. Mokyr’s insight is a powerful lesson for us today. We can’t just build amazing AI models; we must deeply understand the principles of neural networks and learning theory. We can’t just launch rockets; we need to master the physics of propulsion and orbital mechanics. Without that foundational "why," innovation becomes a dead end. With it, it becomes a launchpad. But what happens when that launchpad sends a rocket straight through an existing industry?

This is where Philippe Aghion and Peter Howitt come in. They took an idea from the great economist Joseph Schumpeter—"creative destruction"—and gave it a mathematical backbone. The term itself sounds brutal, and in many ways, it is. It’s the force that shutters the beloved neighborhood video store when streaming services arrive. It’s the assembly line that makes a craftsman’s skills obsolete. It’s the uncomfortable, relentless churn where today’s giant is tomorrow’s cautionary tale.
Aghion and Howitt showed that this isn't a flaw in capitalism; it's the central feature. Progress requires destruction. When a team of developers builds a piece of software that automates a task that used to take a hundred people, they have destroyed jobs—but they’ve also created immense value and freed up human potential for new, more complex problems. Their models show how the temporary monopoly profits an innovator earns are the very carrot that entices the next innovator to come along and build something even better, and this cycle of one-upmanship is the fuel for sustained growth—it’s the reason we don’t still ride horses to work or communicate by telegraph.
Of course, it’s easy for someone like me to celebrate this from a comfortable chair. The "destruction" part of the equation has real human costs. It displaces workers and disrupts communities. This is the critical ethical tightrope we must walk. As Aghion himself warned upon accepting the prize, we have to manage this process. We need policies that support those who are displaced, that foster competition so new giants don't choke out the next generation of innovators, and that direct this incredible engine toward our biggest challenges, like climate change. The goal isn’t to stop the engine of creative destruction; it’s to steer it with wisdom and compassion.
But make no mistake: stopping it means stagnation. It means protecting the past at the expense of the future. The work of these Nobel laureates is a stark reminder that clinging to the status quo is the surest path to being left behind. The question isn't if your industry will be disrupted, but when, and by whom. Are you going to be the one holding the reins of the horse-drawn carriage, or the one building the engine for the automobile?
Ultimately, this prize is more than an academic honor; it's a mission statement for the 21st century. In an age of anxiety, with fears of AI taking jobs and globalization facing backlash, the Nobel committee made a bold, optimistic choice. They chose to honor the disruptors, the builders, the relentless questers for "what's next."
They looked at two centuries of unprecedented human flourishing—of rising living standards, falling poverty, and expanding knowledge—and identified the source code: a culture that embraces scientific understanding and an economic system that rewards the creative destruction of the old to make way for the new.
This is a profound validation for everyone in the trenches of technology and science. It’s the world's highest intellectual body saying that the path forward isn't to slow down, regulate progress to a crawl, or retreat into protectionism. The path forward is to accelerate, to build better and smarter, and to have the courage to let go of the past. It’s a call to action. So, what are you going to build next?