It's not you, it's me
Dear web conferences, It's not you, it's me. Something's changed and it's not your fault. I'm just on a different path to you. Maybe we'll be friends in a while, but at the moment I just want some space to do and try other things. I still love you. But we just need a break. Love, Mark
I'm taking next year off speaking at web conferences. It's not that I don't have anything to say, or contribute, but more that I have better things to do with my time right now. Speaking at conferences takes about two weeks per conference if it's overseas once you factor in preparing and writing the talk, rehearsing, travel, and the conference itself. That's two weeks away from my wife, my daughters, my new job and a team that needs me.
Two conferences the world over
What I've noticed this past year or so is, largely, we have two different types of web conference running the world over: small independents and larger corporate affairs. The former is generally run by one person with hoards of volunteers and is community-focussed (cheap ticket price, single track). The latter is big-budget, aimed at corporations as a training expense, maybe multi-track and has A-list speakers.
As well as these two trends, I see others in the material and the way that material is presented. 'Corporate' conferences expect valuable, actionable content; that is what corporations are paying for. Schlickly delivered for maximum ROI. 'Community' conferences have their own trends, too. Talks about people, empathy, community, and how start-ups are changing the world. Community conferences are frequently an excuse to hang out with your internet mates. Which is fine, I guess.
My problem with both of these is I'm not sure I fit anymore. I'm not what you would call a slick presenter: I 'um' and 'ah', I swear, I get excited and stumble on stage in more ways than one. Some would say I'm disrespectful to the audience I'm talking to. I'm lazy with my slides, preferring to hand-write single words and the odd picture. I've never used a keynote transition. I'm not really at home amongst the world's corporate presenters who deliver scripted, rehearsed, beautifully crafted presentations. They're great and everything, but it's just not me. Not for the first time in my life, I don't quite fit.
And then there's the community conferences. I feel more at home here. Or at least I used to. This year, not so much. A lot of my friends in this industry just don't really go to conferences that much anymore. They have family commitments, work to do, and – frankly – just aren't that into getting pissed up in a night-club after some talks with 90% men. Younger men at that.
Time for something different
All of that may sound like I'm dissing the conference industry. That's not my intention, but more like a realisation that, after nearly ten years at speaking at events, I think it's time I had a little break. Time away to refresh myself, explore other industries that interest me like typography and architecture. Maybe an opportunity to present at one of these types of conferences would present itself; now that would be cool.
I know it's a bit weird me posting about this when I could quietly just not accept any invitations to speak. To be honest, I've been doing that for a little while, but not for the first time, writing things down helps me clarify my position on things. For a while I was angry at web conferences in general. Angry at the content, disappointed with speakers, disappointed at myself. Then I realised, like so many times before, that when I feel like that it's just that my 'norm' has changed. I'm no longer where I used to be and I'm getting my head around it.
It's just this time, I'm going to listen to my head instead of burying it two feet in some sand.