A Manifesto for Events That Don’t Suck

This is a manifesto for events that don’t suck. We’ve all been there.
The convention centre carpet that’s seen better decades. The fluorescent hum that drains your will to live. The limp handshake and the forced smile. The chicken was dry, the coffee was weak, and the best part of the day was leaving.
We gather hundreds of brilliant people in a room and arm them with the tools of a forgotten era, flimsy business cards and single-use plastic. We call it “networking”. It feels like work.
This can be better. It must be better.
This is a manifesto for a new kind of gathering. This is for the un-conference.
WE BELIEVE
An event should spark something, not just schedule something.
WE REFUSE
The plastic sleeve and synthetic lanyard that end up in landfill for centuries.
WE WILL
Trade PowerPoint glare for actual daylight.
WE BELIEVE
The most important connection is not the WiFi.
WE WILL
Design for conversation, not just consumption. Use spaces for serendipity, not just seating charts.
WE REFUSE
To hand someone a business card they will lose. We tell them a story they will remember.
WE BELIEVE
A person is more interesting than their job title. We make badges that prove it, badges that ask a question, share a passion, or start a real conversation.
WE WILL
Give our guests less to throw away and more to talk about.
WE REFUSE
To accept that “memorable” and “sustainable” are mutually exclusive. They are one and the same.
WE BELIEVE
The legacy of an event should not be a carbon footprint. It should be a forest. A friendship. A flower bed.
WE WILL
Leave a place better than we found it.
WE BELIEVE
With every fibre of our being, that a great event should end in a garden, not a landfill.
You can’t change everything overnight. The chicken might still be dry.
But you can change the first thing you hand them.
You can change the object that hangs around their neck and speaks for your brand all day. You can make it a statement. A symbol. Proof that you’ve thought about this, that you care about this, and that you are part of the new way.
You can hand them a story that’s waiting for soil.
