I didn’t really start attending large conferences until the beginning of last year. But as is typical for me, I cannot just ease into something; I jump in head-first. I went from attending local conferences 2-3 times a year to going to out-of-state conferences about once a month, in addition to speaking at a few of them as well. This has provided me with a pretty immersive experience in all things conference related.
I’ve written before about how invaluable these conference experiences have been for me. The growth my companies have seen in the last year and a half are directly correlated with the network I’ve been lucky to cultivate through attending these conferences and for that I am very grateful. I plan on continuing my conference attendance despite some of the experiences I’m about to share.
I sincerely thought my negative experiences over the last year and a half were just bad luck or a random sampling of bad behavior. But after sharing some of these experiences with some individuals in my network, I realized that this is a common occurrence in conference culture, regardless of industry.
We need to do better.
It’s been an ongoing goal of mine to create a very clear separation between my personal life and my work life, probably even more than the average person because I work with family. But like many others in my industry, there are work associates that become real friends, and make attending conferences together that much more enjoyable. All this to say, there are always exceptions to the rules, and I’m not sure I’d want to work in an industry where I wasn’t friends with some of them.
Every conference I’ve attended provides networking opportunities with open bars. I enjoy drinking, and I fully understand how the effects of alcohol can reduce the social anxiety that comes with being at a location for multiple days with a bunch of strangers that your organization tasked you with selling yourself and your company to. It’s too easy though to blame the open bars. Instead there needs to be accountability and maturity and above all else, conference environments should be safe for everyone in attendance.
I was at a conference networking event and found myself at a table with two women probably about my age or younger. They were from the same small company and this was their first conference. I really enjoyed chatting with them about their careers and the industry. I went up to the bar to get us another round of drinks and while I was waiting, the man next to me recognized me as a speaker for a session that would occur the next day. I was flattered to be recognized by a complete stranger and asked what his interest was in the topic. He said he’s an expert in the topic. When I asked why he was attending my session, he responded something to the effect that he wanted to heckle me. We’ve never met until this moment. I don’t know who this person is. The bartender put the three drinks on the bar top and as I reach for them, the man next me leans in, blocking me in against the bar. I find a way to politely excuse myself and carry the drinks back to our table in the corner. My immediate instinct was to ask these two women to walk with me back to the hotel after we finished.
Another conference had a paid speaker that, at the bar, came up to me and two other women, regaling us of tales of him speaking at other events and the women attendees propositioning him. He assured us he had too much integrity to take them up on their offers, even though he “definitely could have.” Also telling us that he was ready to settle down and get married and did I have anyone I could set him up with.
At another conference, I asked the bartender for a drink and a man I had briefly met a few hours before insisted that it be put on his tab. After politely thanking him but insisting that I pay for it on my own, he continued to loudly insist that he pay for my drink. I was embarrassed by the attention his volume was attracting as well as the bartender being awkwardly frozen waiting for a directive, so I acquiesced. He then insisted that I have a conversation with him in which I could tell he was intoxicated and he asked several very personal questions before I excused myself to use the restroom and instead went up to my room.
I assumed that I was over-sensitive. These experiences were annoying, sure, but not dangerous. There were people around and I made sure to follow my intuition and leave when I needed to. I also made sure not to drink in excess, to always have my location turned on for my phone, let my spouse know when I was “safe” in my room, and rarely go off-site unless I have transportation clearly planned out.
But the more I heard similar stories from my peers, the more I had to ask myself – why am I in a position where I feel the need to be on alert? And why is this not a unique experience for me? I never feel unsafe when I’m at the conference. But the networking opportunities in the evenings seem to bring out a different side of the attendees and I do sometimes feel uncomfortable. Instead of looking forward to the nightly networking opportunities, I started gravitating towards arranging dinner plans with a few friends that I was comfortable with, or opting out of some activities altogether.
I know from having conversations with men in my industry that they are largely unaware of the frequency of this type of behavior. When a woman makes advances towards them at a work conference, it’s typically laughed off and seen as flattering.
The last two conferences I attended, I paid close attention to people’s behavior. Who is a naturally effervescent, friendly person, regardless of what time of day it is and whether they’ve started drinking? Who is more stand-offish during the day but more friendly and open in the evenings? I’m not interested in policing other’s behavior; I just really wanted to see if I was the problem. What is very visible, if you’re looking for it, is how much more relaxed the evenings are. People are standing closer together because the room is louder. The conversations are more entertaining, story-telling, and experience-sharing. There’s subtle peer pressure to always have a drink in your hand. I was on my third soda water with lime (no alcohol) when someone reached over and grabbed my arm, looking approvingly at my drink, and said, “Great choice – I love gin and tonics. I’m going to go grab one now!” Personal boundaries seem to evaporate and that’s not necessarily a bad thing. If you are trying to figure out if you want to work with someone, getting to know them outside of just the professional persona they portray is essential to building trust and evaluating integrity.
Personally, I think conferences can provide an escape from accountability for some attendees. They can excuse poor or inappropriate behavior the next morning by shrugging and saying they had one too many. I’m not the morality police and I’m not concerned with how people act when they are away from home. Except when it provides an uncomfortable environment for others.
This leads me back to – we need to do better. There will always be bad actors no matter what conference you attend. I don’t expect to reform a single one of them. My intention is to share my experiences in case there are others who have felt a similar lack of comfortability at one time or another, so they know it’s not anything they’ve done. Secondly, I want to inform others who haven’t had this experience that it does exist. I want to make sure that we’re continuously and consciously cultivating an environment at conferences where we look out for each other and promote a comfortable atmosphere conducive to all the great things that come from networking. The dark side of conferences is such a small part of the experience, but I’m betting it can all but disappear with awareness and accountability.
