At the end of the first decade of the 21st century, book publishing finds itself trapped in a perfect storm of economic and technological crisis.

Many people, from many different perspectives, have begun to question and challenge the role of the publisher. The social network, desktop publishing and digital technology have liberated all kinds of new potential. Would-be writers and literary promoters the world over have begun to say (and in some cases to demonstrate) yes, we can (do it ourselves). Such assertions have acquired weight thanks to the global recession. When times are hard, people look for alternative solutions.

Whatever the causes, these discontents certainly challenge the publisher's traditional role, which mainly evolved during the 20th century. To address these, the publishing conglomerate Hachette – one of the so-called "Big Six" publishers – has leaked an internal document which addresses the issue of "relevance" for the traditional publisher.

(Full disclosure: my roughly 20-year experience as editor-in-chief of Faber & Faber, a medium-sized literary publishing house based in London, colours my response to this, but also, I hope, adds some benefit of experience.)

On my reading, Hachette's characterisation of itself in the document as "curator … venture capitalist … sales and distribution specialist … brand builder and copyright watchdog" is an admirably succinct, clear and broadly sensible description of the role of the publisher in the 20th century. Whether this model is sustainable in the 21st century, however, remains to be seen. If, as some of those writing in the comments below the document believe, the model is redundant, the document will drive you either into paroxysms of rage, or helpless laughter. Me, I'm somewhere in the middle. The Hachette memorandum is neither sinister nor ludicrous. Here's why:

Stepping back from the debate about the price differentials of printed books and ebooks, and many related disputes too complex to rehearse here, I want to make two fundamental points. The first is about writers and the second is about publishers.

Writers of all kinds, from the nakedly commercial to the wilfully abstruse, look for two things: love and money. The traditional publisher, to a greater or lesser extent (this is part of his/her competitive edge) provides this. As the Hachette memo states, the publisher both curates new and continuing talent (with a "gatekeeping" function) and also acts as a banker (or patron).

This traditional model is simple, but also highly evolved. No amount of "self-publishing" (which I use to describe the many alternative models on display) can equal this, at least when harmoniously engaged with the retail and copyright sectors. That's the issue. The Hachette model used to be fully integrated with the literary marketplace. Not any more.

And here's my second point. For 50 – perhaps 100 – years, writers, publishers and booksellers followed a literary map which a) they all believed in and b) described the cultural landcape perfectly.

Some time between 1990 and 2005 – we can debate the actual tipping point – this map became irrelevant and then redundant. The many book tribes (writers, agents, editors, booksellers) on the lonely route from the moment of putting black on white to the point of sale found that the map they'd relied on for generations no longer described the environment they inhabited.

And since that point, debate has been furious. Where are we? Should we start from here? Who got us into this mess? How can we afford to go on? What about the future? Who stole my tent? And so on.

The Hachette memorandum is welcome precisely because, in a strident atmosphere, it is the calmest voice. The truth is, no one knows what the future holds. There are any number of possible routes up Parnassus, and many different ways to bring books before readers.

One thing is certain, however: the global audience for the printed word is now exponentially greater than ever before. Whatever the rows breaking out among the book tribes, this is probably a golden age of reading.

But it's also a transitional decade. We shall look back on these arguments, of which the Hachette Memorandum is a vivid example, as an essential part of the process whereby the book world found a new equilibrium.