For me, the Publisher's Weekly list of books of the year was the one that made me realise my indifference. It only came to my attention because it included no female writers – nothing like bizarre discrimination to garner headlines. "We ignored gender and genre and who had the buzz," said Louisa Ermelino, the novelist and journalist who was given the dubious honour of presenting the list to the media. "We gave fair chance to the 'big' books of the year, but made them stand on their own two feet … it disturbed us, when we were done, that our list was all male".

Now that it's December, there's a new "Books of the Year" list for us to read nearly every day in another newspaper or magazine or even book-centric website – indeed, thanks to the waning decade, we now have the opportunity to enjoy lists of books from every year, and of the decade as a whole. And I'll be honest: despite my enthusiasm for the world of publishing, despite the fact that last year I was one of the people doggedly ringing up literary and talent agents to beg them to ask Important Writer X and Celebrity Y to share their favourite read of the past 365 days, I'm feeling exceedingly underwhelmed by the prospect of reading more lists this year. In fact, I'll admit it: I find them rather boring.

It's all the fault of the internet, of course: the sheer wealth of interesting discussion and discourse there is about new books (and old ones) every single day undermines the relevance and purpose of these kinds of annual lists. Just two or three years ago the publication of the PW list might have had a genuine impact on the industry. And it might have made me feel quite agitated, worried that it was an important representation of the sexist attitudes of key literary tastemakers. But then I remembered that it was just one of an infinite number of lists; that its attachment to an important industry publication (or newspaper, or magazine) means less when anyone can assert their authority to publish an equally discerning – or not – list.

If the purpose of the lists is to help people judge what to read themselves and to give as Christmas gifts to their loved ones, it seems to me that most people will have realised by now that a quick examination of relevant blogs or other online content will cast more light on what makes interesting reading, rather than sorting through the opinions of a list of famous people until you discover one who most resembles your mother and conclude that you will therefore place a fresh copy of Sarah Palin's autobiography in her stocking.

If the purpose of the lists is to provoke discourse (as they have been doing on this very blog, of course) that's admirable, but I'm not sure that it provokes discussion that's any more interesting than that which is already going on across the web. As demonstrated by the Not the Booker prize, opening up the floor to public opinion on literature can be viewed as an invitation to trouble, but I think this more democratic approach ends up being a far more significant and elucidating survey of what books are important and evoke passion from readers. Which is why, this Christmas, I'll be using the best-of lists to wrap my literary presents, rather than as a guide for selecting them.