of the United Kingdomâs capitol city.
You can feel it at every midmarket conference where a sales engineer from a legacy SaaS platform delivers a spon-con keynote or fireside chat that's really a product plug. You can see it in the event agendas, where the speakers with the boldest points of view are consistently passed over for the CMO of a publicly traded retailer whose comms team has pre-approved (and watered down) every slide.
And you can trace it (if you follow the money) to a structural problem that goes deeper than any single event: the people doing the most innovative work in commerce can't afford to buy time on a stage, and the people who can afford it have the least interesting things to say.
Itâs Always Ladies' Night
I've said it on the Future Commerce podcast a number of different ways throughout the years (though my personal favorite remains "it's always Ladies Night in eCommerce"), but there are simply too many events, treating merchants as royalty, competing for a shrinking pie of white-collar professionals who face significant hiring headwinds in the middle of agentic disruption.
The expo industry was valued at over $1.4 trillion in 2025 and is on track to grow at an 11.38% CAGR through 2033. In the age of remote work (and even return-to-office), we're just happy to be out among other people, having experiences. 71% of executives believe in-person conferences are the most effective way to learn about new products or services. 54% plan to attend even more events this year.
Here's what those numbers obtuse: thereâs a widening gap between attendance and insight. The industry is experiencing what you might call âintellectual arbitrage,â where capital determines who gets to shape the conversation about what's next, and the result is a discourse that sounds samey-samey. The same brands, the same 12 talking heads. The same aphorisms are recycled across different ballrooms in different cities. If every room sounds the same, the industry stops advancing.
Maybe itâs a mistake to call it an events problem, because itâs very much a capital-structure problem, too. One that mirrors the broader dynamics of the commerce ecosystemâconsider the AI spending hierarchy: OpenAI, Anthropic, and AWS have so far concentrated their event dollars at the top-tier shows like NRF and Shoptalk, where they can reach the largest audiences and signal market leadership.
That leaves the mid-range and regional conferences (the shows that theoretically should be the proving grounds for emerging ideas) dependent on sponsorship from legacy platform vendors. The content at these events is overwhelmingly spon-con, delivered by sales staff or by a case-study merchant who didnât deliver the work (it was their agency), and it lacks real-world use cases, practical insights, or tactical depth.
The agenda is a function of who's willing to pay for it.
Meanwhile, the professionals closest to the frontier are agencies, systems integrators, and independent consultants. These are the builders who see disruptions and red flags before anyone else because they're doing the inside work across dozens of brands. They are structurally excluded from the main stages, and even if they did pony up the dollars, theyâre generally derided. Their insights, which are often the most relevant and unvarnished, stay invisible to the broader industry. I know because I helped pilot Something Digital to a successful exit to Genpact, and getting speaking engagements was such a nightmare, I had to start my own business and represent myself as an independent.
And then there are the merchants themselves, the audience for all of this. The biggest events now fly executives to five-star resorts and put them up in luxury suites; theyâd get cutting-edge content, world-class networking, and an experience their LinkedIn followers will envy.
But the fine print: a calendar packed with hosted meetings, a merchant's time bartered to sponsors as compensation for the trip. Days that were supposed to be about learning and connection are consumed by thirty-minute sales pitches from vendors the attendee may have no interest in. The glitz is a de-facto requirement because the competition among events is so fierce. Celebrity speakers, exotic destinations, and luxury venuesâall of it comes ahead of content.
But here's the uncomfortable truth that makes this essay harder to write than a straightforward critique: none of this actually matters in the way we think it should. Content is secondary to experience now. That is the state of the industry. You can find content anywhere, just ask your answer engine. What you can't replicate from your home office is the feeling of being in the room, of proximity to the people and energy that make you feel like you're at the center of the industry. Commerce is culture, and no one is immune to its pull, not even the people writing critical essays about it.
The events industry isnât âbroken.â People are still eager to attend, sponsors are still eager to spend, and organizers are still building bigger, glossier experiences.
The question is what we're optimizing for, and who gets left out of the conversation when experience eclipses insight and capital eclipses ideas.
Calendar Pollution and Event Dilution
There was a time when the retail industry's conference calendar consisted of distinct peaks in Q1 and Q3. It was manageable, especially if you had the budget to get an all-hands-on-deck.Â
Now, teams must navigate a year-round barrage of trips that require better prioritization, stricter budgeting, and more thoughtful planning. Once-loyal attendees are âsitting this one outâ to see if their time and money are better spent elsewhere. Annual exhibitors and sponsors are developing new metrics to determine whether the events they once considered tried and true are, in fact, yielding financial returns. (Donât get us started on SaaS user cons that appear out of nowhere with three months' notice.)
You could read the size and diversity of the event landscape as proof of our industryâs dynamism. But when many come out of these experiences depleted and mentally overwhelmed, it's worth asking whether the events are meaningful to professional development, or whether producers are architecting a new form of industry FOMO that does little more than pollute our LinkedIn feeds.
The concentration effect is real. As the calendar crowds, travel budgets will naturally consolidate around âsafeâ bets. Attendance growth at the top isn't necessarily proof that events are working; it may be proof that risk aversion is working. Fewer organizations are spreading dollars across six or seven shows. They're doubling down on two or three, which funnels even more attention (and therefore influence) toward the events with the most capital behind them.
As industry events scale through M&A or investment, they typically fall into the trap of focusing on capital efficiency and sponsor satisfaction rather than on the quality of experience and topical innovation. And those smaller events that aim to take the industry by storm? They tend to act as true market disruptors, bringing in new voices, new brands, and new experiential components that reinvigorate the market. Until they reach their true finish line: an acquisition by a large holding company that follows its playbook for global reach and scale. The end result is an over-reliance on spon-con and high-end hosted buyer programs. It's the same model, time after time, at every revenue band.
This cycle makes it harder for frontier thinking to achieve at scale, something merchants will need (and event organizers should be thinking ahead about) as we head into more disruptive AI times.Â
All events employ the same networking models because they are âproven to work.â The same executives get the main stages, largely because they represent the brands getting the most PR and media play. When pockets of innovation emerge, smaller producers invest in the experience itself: the city, the venue, the surrounding culture. They monetize networking breaks, after-hours events, and excursions to connect sponsors to attendees.
But when operations falter, and the schedule goes off-kilter, programming ends up eating into the one thing sponsors actually want: face time. All of which tells us that industry events are now more about being there than learning there.
Something needs to change.
A New Framework for Event Experience Measurement
Industry conferences and expos can be analyzed using a simple 2x2 model that captures the core tension between an event's scale and its strategic ambition.
The x-axis is size, and both ends of the spectrum carry advantages depending on your goals. Small events may be more niche, but they provide access. It's easier to meet the right people because they're not hiding their badges to avoid being sold to. Larger events allow you to fish with a bigger net; if you cast wide enough, you statistically have a higher likelihood of meeting "the right person." And if the event offers services like hosted meetings, your chances are even better.
A "Goldilocks" model that combines size and intimacy initially helped Shoptalk become such a distinct player in a marketplace struggling with event homogeneity. The event was founded at a time when larger conferences focused solely on the square footage of their expo spaces. Although Shoptalk's global network of events is indeed large, there are always tailored networking moments, activations, and intimate dinners that make the community feel more approachable and connected.
The y-axis explores strategic execution. On one end is conceptual innovation: formats, content models, and experiences that are truly distinct yet possibly not operationally perfect. On the other end is operational excellence: a scalable, finely-tuned âmachineâ where every cog, from agenda to registration, speaker management, hosted meetings, and expo floor operations, is running smoothly.

In our nearly three decades of experience attending events of all sizes, we have found that producers typically prioritize three types of event innovation:
- Operational innovation: Logistics, orchestration, efficiency, seamlessness, and tech integration
- Experiential innovation: Design, destination, format, and off-site, after-hours events
- Conceptual innovation: New models, an emphasis on content, and speakers that inspire beyond-the-horizon thinking
The reality is that most events over-index on the first two, and the economics explain why.
Operational innovation serves a logistics team with a budget line, and experiential innovation sells tickets and drives FOMO. Conceptual innovation inspires people, which is a much harder line item to defend in a budget meeting (and so, so much harder to sell, just ask us).
Sponsors want to either be part of large events that promise them volume or highly curated experiences that ensure their ICP is there, highly engaged, and open to networking. The missing piece, conceptual innovation, is where breakthrough moments and meaning live. It's also the piece with no natural revenue model.
The Impact of Scale
We're not saying scale is bad. That's like saying you liked The Killers before they became mainstream. We know we're in the business of selling, so saying you're inherently against it is, well, kind of lame. But with scale comes innate tradeoffs.
Late-stage SaaS companies, trade associations linked with policyholders and lobbyists, and PE-backed exhibition holdcos now control the lion's share of event calendars. Their main advantages are size, scale, and operational excellence. They have the team size (and budget) to serve large audiences worldwide, which is why they're breaking into global markets. Scale and revenue potential are top of mind, so they focus on large brands with strict corporate communications policies and "premier sponsorship models" that promise vendors top-tier speaking slots.
Sometimes, the result is illuminating. One notable example is the NRF Big Show, which featured Azita Martin, VP and GM of Retail and CPG at NVIDIA, as a keynote speaker in 2025. When AI and agentic commerce were just gaining momentum in the industry, the association put Martin in the spotlight to break down actual use cases and examples, not wax poetic. Other times, the result is a lot of PR gobbledygook that fails to advance industry dialogue.
The need to appeal to a diverse global audience also means there is less room for niche topics and emerging brands until there is a clear, research-backed need. NRF optimizes for operational excellence and ecosystem signaling, incorporating new stages, expo models, and adjacent experiences when vendor and audience feedback indicate that this is where and how they should evolve.
But even these mega-events are shaped by who has money to spend, and right now, the money is shifting. The companies with the deepest pockets in commerce technology are no longer the legacy platforms that have historically underwritten the mid-tier conference circuit. They're the AI infrastructure players: OpenAI, Anthropic, and AWS. And so far, these companies have concentrated their event dollars almost exclusively at the top of the pyramid, at NRF, at Shoptalk, and at CES, where they can reach the largest audiences and signal market leadership in a single swing.
This creates a cascading effect. The biggest shows absorb the most innovative sponsors. The mid-range and regional conferences, the ones that should theoretically function as proving grounds for emerging ideas, are left dependent on sponsorship from legacy platform vendors whose best days of innovation may be behind them. The content at these events skews heavily toward spon-con: presentations delivered by sales staff rather than practitioners, case studies presented by merchants who didn't do the work (their agency did), sessions that lack real-world use cases or tactical depth. The agenda becomes a function of who's willing to pay for it, and the people willing to pay are selling last cycle's tools.
This is the knowledge gap in action. The frontier is funded at the top and absent in the middle, and it's in the middle where most of the industry actually lives.
Content Collapse
Historically, industry conferences were the primary venues for learning about new and emerging trends. The success of an event hinged on the depth of the agenda and the quality of speakers. That equation has quietly inverted.
Nearly all event organizers (95%) surveyed by Bizzabo said incorporating "experiential learning" was important. That means less "death by PowerPoint" and more hands-on formats and interactive workshops. 75% say it's important to provide immersive experiences that allow attendees to disconnect during events. Read generously, this is an industry evolving toward richer engagement. Read critically, it's an industry that has learned experience converts better than insight.
Networking and experiences like hosted meetings and curated dinners now take precedence over content depth, particularly in terms of capital investment. Content can sometimes be a liability if quality sessions and speakers are prioritized over serving what actually pays the bills: opportunities for sponsors and exhibitors to meet with their prospects. When the schedule is built around sponsor access, a packed content track isn't a feature. It's a scheduling conflict.
But there is a more existential issue at play. When events are fighting for market share, they focus first and foremost on acquiring speakers who generate the most buzz. Innovative yet lesser-known brands are bypassed for large public retailers. Independent consulting firms and futurists with bold points of view are overlooked in favor of talking heads who reinforce mainstream industry narratives. The result is that no matter which event an executive or operator attends, they end up hearing from the same circle of speakers, all regurgitating the same data, same anecdotes, and same frameworks. The discourse becomes self-referential. The industry mistakes consensus for progress.
This is where the knowledge crisis becomes self-perpetuating. The merchants and operators who attend these events aren't learning what's actually happening at the frontier. They're learning what last year's sponsors want them to believe is happening.
Experience as Leverage
Okay, weâve railed on whatâs not working. Letâs talk about the upside of investing in experience, because there is a growing network of events that prioritize innovation and are built and operated by agencies. The industry events calendar has historically served retailers, brands, hardware vendors, and SaaS companies, leaving the agencies and strategy firms stuck in the middle.
Because agencies are builders, they recognize the importance of experience. Agency-hosted events balance attendees' experiential expectations with thought-provoking content and meaningful networking opportunities. The venue matters. The city matters. But so does what's said on stage.
This year's EEE Miami event during Miami Ecommerce Week was the largest to date. With more than 500 attendees, the event took place at the Ritz-Carlton Key Biscayne, a five-star waterfront resort that exudes luxury and exclusivity. Emotional resonance and memorability drive the ROI. When these aspects are strong, attendees and sponsors still report loving an event even when some mechanical and operational components are lacking. That's the power of getting the conceptual layer right: it creates a gravitational pull that forgives imperfection elsewhere.
Sometimes, a larger event can maintain this advantage. The Manifest conference takes place in the mecca of industry events, Las Vegas, which is enough for some to release a dramatic groan. But its expo is an expansive environment that delivers on the event's tagline: "The future of supply chain and logistics is here." While traditional retail events tend to favor POS, order management systems, and software solutions, the Manifest floor was brimming with robotics, drones, forklifts, and even autonomous vehicles. It illustrated that the future wasn't just something to aspire to; it was very much real and at the Venetian. That's conceptual innovation expressed through the expo itself, not just the speaker track.
These events aren't perfect. They don't have the operational machinery of an NRF or the networking infrastructure of a Shoptalk. But they represent something the scaled model struggles to produce: a point of view. An editorial sensibility about what matters and who should be talking about it. In a landscape where most agendas are assembled by sponsor tier, an event with a curatorial instinct is genuinely rare.
The Era of Conceptual Innovation
We said earlier that commerce is culture, and that no one is immune to its pull. That includes the events industry itself. Conferences have become commerce products, optimized the same way any DTC brand optimizes: for desire, for conversion, for the feeling that you're part of something.
Sitting between the industryâs mega-expos and highly curated summits is a âmessy middleâ built on capital-light, insight-heavy experimentation. While there will always be a place for operational and experiential innovation, the next frontier emphasizes conceptual innovation, with events elevating new business models, foresight, and next-horizon thinking that add a new dimension to commerce conversations.Â
The most successful events in the future will overlap in all three areas.
Though they wonât be the largest, they will have the operational efficiency to run smoothly as they create formats and experiences that inspire attendees to disconnect and immerse themselves in the moment. But the most critical layer is that these experiences will be designed to create moments for thinking and meaningful, provocative conversation, not haphazard meetups that focus on the velocity of your pitch. The content, the expo halls, and the moments of connection will be designed to inspire and catalyze deep thought and ideation, rather than compete with them.
We donât need more panels, God, please, no. We need new formats: smaller, insights, and media-led convenings with editorial points of view. Capital-light models that don't require a sponsor tier to earn a speaking slot. Experiences designed around thinking, not attendance. Not because content is more important than experience, but because in an industry where culture and commerce are one and the same, what we say to each other in these rooms eventually becomes what we build.
In a saturated events calendar, the most valuable rooms arenât necessarily going to be the largest, but the ones most willing to go against the grain.
Innovation didn't disappear from retail. The innovators just don't have a stage yet. That's the part we can change.
You can feel it at every midmarket conference where a sales engineer from a legacy SaaS platform delivers a spon-con keynote or fireside chat that's really a product plug. You can see it in the event agendas, where the speakers with the boldest points of view are consistently passed over for the CMO of a publicly traded retailer whose comms team has pre-approved (and watered down) every slide.
And you can trace it (if you follow the money) to a structural problem that goes deeper than any single event: the people doing the most innovative work in commerce can't afford to buy time on a stage, and the people who can afford it have the least interesting things to say.
Itâs Always Ladies' Night
I've said it on the Future Commerce podcast a number of different ways throughout the years (though my personal favorite remains "it's always Ladies Night in eCommerce"), but there are simply too many events, treating merchants as royalty, competing for a shrinking pie of white-collar professionals who face significant hiring headwinds in the middle of agentic disruption.
The expo industry was valued at over $1.4 trillion in 2025 and is on track to grow at an 11.38% CAGR through 2033. In the age of remote work (and even return-to-office), we're just happy to be out among other people, having experiences. 71% of executives believe in-person conferences are the most effective way to learn about new products or services. 54% plan to attend even more events this year.
Here's what those numbers obtuse: thereâs a widening gap between attendance and insight. The industry is experiencing what you might call âintellectual arbitrage,â where capital determines who gets to shape the conversation about what's next, and the result is a discourse that sounds samey-samey. The same brands, the same 12 talking heads. The same aphorisms are recycled across different ballrooms in different cities. If every room sounds the same, the industry stops advancing.
Maybe itâs a mistake to call it an events problem, because itâs very much a capital-structure problem, too. One that mirrors the broader dynamics of the commerce ecosystemâconsider the AI spending hierarchy: OpenAI, Anthropic, and AWS have so far concentrated their event dollars at the top-tier shows like NRF and Shoptalk, where they can reach the largest audiences and signal market leadership.
That leaves the mid-range and regional conferences (the shows that theoretically should be the proving grounds for emerging ideas) dependent on sponsorship from legacy platform vendors. The content at these events is overwhelmingly spon-con, delivered by sales staff or by a case-study merchant who didnât deliver the work (it was their agency), and it lacks real-world use cases, practical insights, or tactical depth.
The agenda is a function of who's willing to pay for it.
Meanwhile, the professionals closest to the frontier are agencies, systems integrators, and independent consultants. These are the builders who see disruptions and red flags before anyone else because they're doing the inside work across dozens of brands. They are structurally excluded from the main stages, and even if they did pony up the dollars, theyâre generally derided. Their insights, which are often the most relevant and unvarnished, stay invisible to the broader industry. I know because I helped pilot Something Digital to a successful exit to Genpact, and getting speaking engagements was such a nightmare, I had to start my own business and represent myself as an independent.
And then there are the merchants themselves, the audience for all of this. The biggest events now fly executives to five-star resorts and put them up in luxury suites; theyâd get cutting-edge content, world-class networking, and an experience their LinkedIn followers will envy.
But the fine print: a calendar packed with hosted meetings, a merchant's time bartered to sponsors as compensation for the trip. Days that were supposed to be about learning and connection are consumed by thirty-minute sales pitches from vendors the attendee may have no interest in. The glitz is a de-facto requirement because the competition among events is so fierce. Celebrity speakers, exotic destinations, and luxury venuesâall of it comes ahead of content.
But here's the uncomfortable truth that makes this essay harder to write than a straightforward critique: none of this actually matters in the way we think it should. Content is secondary to experience now. That is the state of the industry. You can find content anywhere, just ask your answer engine. What you can't replicate from your home office is the feeling of being in the room, of proximity to the people and energy that make you feel like you're at the center of the industry. Commerce is culture, and no one is immune to its pull, not even the people writing critical essays about it.
The events industry isnât âbroken.â People are still eager to attend, sponsors are still eager to spend, and organizers are still building bigger, glossier experiences.
The question is what we're optimizing for, and who gets left out of the conversation when experience eclipses insight and capital eclipses ideas.
Calendar Pollution and Event Dilution
There was a time when the retail industry's conference calendar consisted of distinct peaks in Q1 and Q3. It was manageable, especially if you had the budget to get an all-hands-on-deck.Â
Now, teams must navigate a year-round barrage of trips that require better prioritization, stricter budgeting, and more thoughtful planning. Once-loyal attendees are âsitting this one outâ to see if their time and money are better spent elsewhere. Annual exhibitors and sponsors are developing new metrics to determine whether the events they once considered tried and true are, in fact, yielding financial returns. (Donât get us started on SaaS user cons that appear out of nowhere with three months' notice.)
You could read the size and diversity of the event landscape as proof of our industryâs dynamism. But when many come out of these experiences depleted and mentally overwhelmed, it's worth asking whether the events are meaningful to professional development, or whether producers are architecting a new form of industry FOMO that does little more than pollute our LinkedIn feeds.
The concentration effect is real. As the calendar crowds, travel budgets will naturally consolidate around âsafeâ bets. Attendance growth at the top isn't necessarily proof that events are working; it may be proof that risk aversion is working. Fewer organizations are spreading dollars across six or seven shows. They're doubling down on two or three, which funnels even more attention (and therefore influence) toward the events with the most capital behind them.
As industry events scale through M&A or investment, they typically fall into the trap of focusing on capital efficiency and sponsor satisfaction rather than on the quality of experience and topical innovation. And those smaller events that aim to take the industry by storm? They tend to act as true market disruptors, bringing in new voices, new brands, and new experiential components that reinvigorate the market. Until they reach their true finish line: an acquisition by a large holding company that follows its playbook for global reach and scale. The end result is an over-reliance on spon-con and high-end hosted buyer programs. It's the same model, time after time, at every revenue band.
This cycle makes it harder for frontier thinking to achieve at scale, something merchants will need (and event organizers should be thinking ahead about) as we head into more disruptive AI times.Â
All events employ the same networking models because they are âproven to work.â The same executives get the main stages, largely because they represent the brands getting the most PR and media play. When pockets of innovation emerge, smaller producers invest in the experience itself: the city, the venue, the surrounding culture. They monetize networking breaks, after-hours events, and excursions to connect sponsors to attendees.
But when operations falter, and the schedule goes off-kilter, programming ends up eating into the one thing sponsors actually want: face time. All of which tells us that industry events are now more about being there than learning there.
Something needs to change.
A New Framework for Event Experience Measurement
Industry conferences and expos can be analyzed using a simple 2x2 model that captures the core tension between an event's scale and its strategic ambition.
The x-axis is size, and both ends of the spectrum carry advantages depending on your goals. Small events may be more niche, but they provide access. It's easier to meet the right people because they're not hiding their badges to avoid being sold to. Larger events allow you to fish with a bigger net; if you cast wide enough, you statistically have a higher likelihood of meeting "the right person." And if the event offers services like hosted meetings, your chances are even better.
A "Goldilocks" model that combines size and intimacy initially helped Shoptalk become such a distinct player in a marketplace struggling with event homogeneity. The event was founded at a time when larger conferences focused solely on the square footage of their expo spaces. Although Shoptalk's global network of events is indeed large, there are always tailored networking moments, activations, and intimate dinners that make the community feel more approachable and connected.
The y-axis explores strategic execution. On one end is conceptual innovation: formats, content models, and experiences that are truly distinct yet possibly not operationally perfect. On the other end is operational excellence: a scalable, finely-tuned âmachineâ where every cog, from agenda to registration, speaker management, hosted meetings, and expo floor operations, is running smoothly.

In our nearly three decades of experience attending events of all sizes, we have found that producers typically prioritize three types of event innovation:
- Operational innovation: Logistics, orchestration, efficiency, seamlessness, and tech integration
- Experiential innovation: Design, destination, format, and off-site, after-hours events
- Conceptual innovation: New models, an emphasis on content, and speakers that inspire beyond-the-horizon thinking
The reality is that most events over-index on the first two, and the economics explain why.
Operational innovation serves a logistics team with a budget line, and experiential innovation sells tickets and drives FOMO. Conceptual innovation inspires people, which is a much harder line item to defend in a budget meeting (and so, so much harder to sell, just ask us).
Sponsors want to either be part of large events that promise them volume or highly curated experiences that ensure their ICP is there, highly engaged, and open to networking. The missing piece, conceptual innovation, is where breakthrough moments and meaning live. It's also the piece with no natural revenue model.
The Impact of Scale
We're not saying scale is bad. That's like saying you liked The Killers before they became mainstream. We know we're in the business of selling, so saying you're inherently against it is, well, kind of lame. But with scale comes innate tradeoffs.
Late-stage SaaS companies, trade associations linked with policyholders and lobbyists, and PE-backed exhibition holdcos now control the lion's share of event calendars. Their main advantages are size, scale, and operational excellence. They have the team size (and budget) to serve large audiences worldwide, which is why they're breaking into global markets. Scale and revenue potential are top of mind, so they focus on large brands with strict corporate communications policies and "premier sponsorship models" that promise vendors top-tier speaking slots.
Sometimes, the result is illuminating. One notable example is the NRF Big Show, which featured Azita Martin, VP and GM of Retail and CPG at NVIDIA, as a keynote speaker in 2025. When AI and agentic commerce were just gaining momentum in the industry, the association put Martin in the spotlight to break down actual use cases and examples, not wax poetic. Other times, the result is a lot of PR gobbledygook that fails to advance industry dialogue.
The need to appeal to a diverse global audience also means there is less room for niche topics and emerging brands until there is a clear, research-backed need. NRF optimizes for operational excellence and ecosystem signaling, incorporating new stages, expo models, and adjacent experiences when vendor and audience feedback indicate that this is where and how they should evolve.
But even these mega-events are shaped by who has money to spend, and right now, the money is shifting. The companies with the deepest pockets in commerce technology are no longer the legacy platforms that have historically underwritten the mid-tier conference circuit. They're the AI infrastructure players: OpenAI, Anthropic, and AWS. And so far, these companies have concentrated their event dollars almost exclusively at the top of the pyramid, at NRF, at Shoptalk, and at CES, where they can reach the largest audiences and signal market leadership in a single swing.
This creates a cascading effect. The biggest shows absorb the most innovative sponsors. The mid-range and regional conferences, the ones that should theoretically function as proving grounds for emerging ideas, are left dependent on sponsorship from legacy platform vendors whose best days of innovation may be behind them. The content at these events skews heavily toward spon-con: presentations delivered by sales staff rather than practitioners, case studies presented by merchants who didn't do the work (their agency did), sessions that lack real-world use cases or tactical depth. The agenda becomes a function of who's willing to pay for it, and the people willing to pay are selling last cycle's tools.
This is the knowledge gap in action. The frontier is funded at the top and absent in the middle, and it's in the middle where most of the industry actually lives.
Content Collapse
Historically, industry conferences were the primary venues for learning about new and emerging trends. The success of an event hinged on the depth of the agenda and the quality of speakers. That equation has quietly inverted.
Nearly all event organizers (95%) surveyed by Bizzabo said incorporating "experiential learning" was important. That means less "death by PowerPoint" and more hands-on formats and interactive workshops. 75% say it's important to provide immersive experiences that allow attendees to disconnect during events. Read generously, this is an industry evolving toward richer engagement. Read critically, it's an industry that has learned experience converts better than insight.
Networking and experiences like hosted meetings and curated dinners now take precedence over content depth, particularly in terms of capital investment. Content can sometimes be a liability if quality sessions and speakers are prioritized over serving what actually pays the bills: opportunities for sponsors and exhibitors to meet with their prospects. When the schedule is built around sponsor access, a packed content track isn't a feature. It's a scheduling conflict.
But there is a more existential issue at play. When events are fighting for market share, they focus first and foremost on acquiring speakers who generate the most buzz. Innovative yet lesser-known brands are bypassed for large public retailers. Independent consulting firms and futurists with bold points of view are overlooked in favor of talking heads who reinforce mainstream industry narratives. The result is that no matter which event an executive or operator attends, they end up hearing from the same circle of speakers, all regurgitating the same data, same anecdotes, and same frameworks. The discourse becomes self-referential. The industry mistakes consensus for progress.
This is where the knowledge crisis becomes self-perpetuating. The merchants and operators who attend these events aren't learning what's actually happening at the frontier. They're learning what last year's sponsors want them to believe is happening.
Experience as Leverage
Okay, weâve railed on whatâs not working. Letâs talk about the upside of investing in experience, because there is a growing network of events that prioritize innovation and are built and operated by agencies. The industry events calendar has historically served retailers, brands, hardware vendors, and SaaS companies, leaving the agencies and strategy firms stuck in the middle.
Because agencies are builders, they recognize the importance of experience. Agency-hosted events balance attendees' experiential expectations with thought-provoking content and meaningful networking opportunities. The venue matters. The city matters. But so does what's said on stage.
This year's EEE Miami event during Miami Ecommerce Week was the largest to date. With more than 500 attendees, the event took place at the Ritz-Carlton Key Biscayne, a five-star waterfront resort that exudes luxury and exclusivity. Emotional resonance and memorability drive the ROI. When these aspects are strong, attendees and sponsors still report loving an event even when some mechanical and operational components are lacking. That's the power of getting the conceptual layer right: it creates a gravitational pull that forgives imperfection elsewhere.
Sometimes, a larger event can maintain this advantage. The Manifest conference takes place in the mecca of industry events, Las Vegas, which is enough for some to release a dramatic groan. But its expo is an expansive environment that delivers on the event's tagline: "The future of supply chain and logistics is here." While traditional retail events tend to favor POS, order management systems, and software solutions, the Manifest floor was brimming with robotics, drones, forklifts, and even autonomous vehicles. It illustrated that the future wasn't just something to aspire to; it was very much real and at the Venetian. That's conceptual innovation expressed through the expo itself, not just the speaker track.
These events aren't perfect. They don't have the operational machinery of an NRF or the networking infrastructure of a Shoptalk. But they represent something the scaled model struggles to produce: a point of view. An editorial sensibility about what matters and who should be talking about it. In a landscape where most agendas are assembled by sponsor tier, an event with a curatorial instinct is genuinely rare.
The Era of Conceptual Innovation
We said earlier that commerce is culture, and that no one is immune to its pull. That includes the events industry itself. Conferences have become commerce products, optimized the same way any DTC brand optimizes: for desire, for conversion, for the feeling that you're part of something.
Sitting between the industryâs mega-expos and highly curated summits is a âmessy middleâ built on capital-light, insight-heavy experimentation. While there will always be a place for operational and experiential innovation, the next frontier emphasizes conceptual innovation, with events elevating new business models, foresight, and next-horizon thinking that add a new dimension to commerce conversations.Â
The most successful events in the future will overlap in all three areas.
Though they wonât be the largest, they will have the operational efficiency to run smoothly as they create formats and experiences that inspire attendees to disconnect and immerse themselves in the moment. But the most critical layer is that these experiences will be designed to create moments for thinking and meaningful, provocative conversation, not haphazard meetups that focus on the velocity of your pitch. The content, the expo halls, and the moments of connection will be designed to inspire and catalyze deep thought and ideation, rather than compete with them.
We donât need more panels, God, please, no. We need new formats: smaller, insights, and media-led convenings with editorial points of view. Capital-light models that don't require a sponsor tier to earn a speaking slot. Experiences designed around thinking, not attendance. Not because content is more important than experience, but because in an industry where culture and commerce are one and the same, what we say to each other in these rooms eventually becomes what we build.
In a saturated events calendar, the most valuable rooms arenât necessarily going to be the largest, but the ones most willing to go against the grain.
Innovation didn't disappear from retail. The innovators just don't have a stage yet. That's the part we can change.
You can feel it at every midmarket conference where a sales engineer from a legacy SaaS platform delivers a spon-con keynote or fireside chat that's really a product plug. You can see it in the event agendas, where the speakers with the boldest points of view are consistently passed over for the CMO of a publicly traded retailer whose comms team has pre-approved (and watered down) every slide.
And you can trace it (if you follow the money) to a structural problem that goes deeper than any single event: the people doing the most innovative work in commerce can't afford to buy time on a stage, and the people who can afford it have the least interesting things to say.
Itâs Always Ladies' Night
I've said it on the Future Commerce podcast a number of different ways throughout the years (though my personal favorite remains "it's always Ladies Night in eCommerce"), but there are simply too many events, treating merchants as royalty, competing for a shrinking pie of white-collar professionals who face significant hiring headwinds in the middle of agentic disruption.
The expo industry was valued at over $1.4 trillion in 2025 and is on track to grow at an 11.38% CAGR through 2033. In the age of remote work (and even return-to-office), we're just happy to be out among other people, having experiences. 71% of executives believe in-person conferences are the most effective way to learn about new products or services. 54% plan to attend even more events this year.
Here's what those numbers obtuse: thereâs a widening gap between attendance and insight. The industry is experiencing what you might call âintellectual arbitrage,â where capital determines who gets to shape the conversation about what's next, and the result is a discourse that sounds samey-samey. The same brands, the same 12 talking heads. The same aphorisms are recycled across different ballrooms in different cities. If every room sounds the same, the industry stops advancing.
Maybe itâs a mistake to call it an events problem, because itâs very much a capital-structure problem, too. One that mirrors the broader dynamics of the commerce ecosystemâconsider the AI spending hierarchy: OpenAI, Anthropic, and AWS have so far concentrated their event dollars at the top-tier shows like NRF and Shoptalk, where they can reach the largest audiences and signal market leadership.
That leaves the mid-range and regional conferences (the shows that theoretically should be the proving grounds for emerging ideas) dependent on sponsorship from legacy platform vendors. The content at these events is overwhelmingly spon-con, delivered by sales staff or by a case-study merchant who didnât deliver the work (it was their agency), and it lacks real-world use cases, practical insights, or tactical depth.
The agenda is a function of who's willing to pay for it.
Meanwhile, the professionals closest to the frontier are agencies, systems integrators, and independent consultants. These are the builders who see disruptions and red flags before anyone else because they're doing the inside work across dozens of brands. They are structurally excluded from the main stages, and even if they did pony up the dollars, theyâre generally derided. Their insights, which are often the most relevant and unvarnished, stay invisible to the broader industry. I know because I helped pilot Something Digital to a successful exit to Genpact, and getting speaking engagements was such a nightmare, I had to start my own business and represent myself as an independent.
And then there are the merchants themselves, the audience for all of this. The biggest events now fly executives to five-star resorts and put them up in luxury suites; theyâd get cutting-edge content, world-class networking, and an experience their LinkedIn followers will envy.
But the fine print: a calendar packed with hosted meetings, a merchant's time bartered to sponsors as compensation for the trip. Days that were supposed to be about learning and connection are consumed by thirty-minute sales pitches from vendors the attendee may have no interest in. The glitz is a de-facto requirement because the competition among events is so fierce. Celebrity speakers, exotic destinations, and luxury venuesâall of it comes ahead of content.
But here's the uncomfortable truth that makes this essay harder to write than a straightforward critique: none of this actually matters in the way we think it should. Content is secondary to experience now. That is the state of the industry. You can find content anywhere, just ask your answer engine. What you can't replicate from your home office is the feeling of being in the room, of proximity to the people and energy that make you feel like you're at the center of the industry. Commerce is culture, and no one is immune to its pull, not even the people writing critical essays about it.
The events industry isnât âbroken.â People are still eager to attend, sponsors are still eager to spend, and organizers are still building bigger, glossier experiences.
The question is what we're optimizing for, and who gets left out of the conversation when experience eclipses insight and capital eclipses ideas.
Calendar Pollution and Event Dilution
There was a time when the retail industry's conference calendar consisted of distinct peaks in Q1 and Q3. It was manageable, especially if you had the budget to get an all-hands-on-deck.Â
Now, teams must navigate a year-round barrage of trips that require better prioritization, stricter budgeting, and more thoughtful planning. Once-loyal attendees are âsitting this one outâ to see if their time and money are better spent elsewhere. Annual exhibitors and sponsors are developing new metrics to determine whether the events they once considered tried and true are, in fact, yielding financial returns. (Donât get us started on SaaS user cons that appear out of nowhere with three months' notice.)
You could read the size and diversity of the event landscape as proof of our industryâs dynamism. But when many come out of these experiences depleted and mentally overwhelmed, it's worth asking whether the events are meaningful to professional development, or whether producers are architecting a new form of industry FOMO that does little more than pollute our LinkedIn feeds.
The concentration effect is real. As the calendar crowds, travel budgets will naturally consolidate around âsafeâ bets. Attendance growth at the top isn't necessarily proof that events are working; it may be proof that risk aversion is working. Fewer organizations are spreading dollars across six or seven shows. They're doubling down on two or three, which funnels even more attention (and therefore influence) toward the events with the most capital behind them.
As industry events scale through M&A or investment, they typically fall into the trap of focusing on capital efficiency and sponsor satisfaction rather than on the quality of experience and topical innovation. And those smaller events that aim to take the industry by storm? They tend to act as true market disruptors, bringing in new voices, new brands, and new experiential components that reinvigorate the market. Until they reach their true finish line: an acquisition by a large holding company that follows its playbook for global reach and scale. The end result is an over-reliance on spon-con and high-end hosted buyer programs. It's the same model, time after time, at every revenue band.
This cycle makes it harder for frontier thinking to achieve at scale, something merchants will need (and event organizers should be thinking ahead about) as we head into more disruptive AI times.Â
All events employ the same networking models because they are âproven to work.â The same executives get the main stages, largely because they represent the brands getting the most PR and media play. When pockets of innovation emerge, smaller producers invest in the experience itself: the city, the venue, the surrounding culture. They monetize networking breaks, after-hours events, and excursions to connect sponsors to attendees.
But when operations falter, and the schedule goes off-kilter, programming ends up eating into the one thing sponsors actually want: face time. All of which tells us that industry events are now more about being there than learning there.
Something needs to change.
A New Framework for Event Experience Measurement
Industry conferences and expos can be analyzed using a simple 2x2 model that captures the core tension between an event's scale and its strategic ambition.
The x-axis is size, and both ends of the spectrum carry advantages depending on your goals. Small events may be more niche, but they provide access. It's easier to meet the right people because they're not hiding their badges to avoid being sold to. Larger events allow you to fish with a bigger net; if you cast wide enough, you statistically have a higher likelihood of meeting "the right person." And if the event offers services like hosted meetings, your chances are even better.
A "Goldilocks" model that combines size and intimacy initially helped Shoptalk become such a distinct player in a marketplace struggling with event homogeneity. The event was founded at a time when larger conferences focused solely on the square footage of their expo spaces. Although Shoptalk's global network of events is indeed large, there are always tailored networking moments, activations, and intimate dinners that make the community feel more approachable and connected.
The y-axis explores strategic execution. On one end is conceptual innovation: formats, content models, and experiences that are truly distinct yet possibly not operationally perfect. On the other end is operational excellence: a scalable, finely-tuned âmachineâ where every cog, from agenda to registration, speaker management, hosted meetings, and expo floor operations, is running smoothly.

In our nearly three decades of experience attending events of all sizes, we have found that producers typically prioritize three types of event innovation:
- Operational innovation: Logistics, orchestration, efficiency, seamlessness, and tech integration
- Experiential innovation: Design, destination, format, and off-site, after-hours events
- Conceptual innovation: New models, an emphasis on content, and speakers that inspire beyond-the-horizon thinking
The reality is that most events over-index on the first two, and the economics explain why.
Operational innovation serves a logistics team with a budget line, and experiential innovation sells tickets and drives FOMO. Conceptual innovation inspires people, which is a much harder line item to defend in a budget meeting (and so, so much harder to sell, just ask us).
Sponsors want to either be part of large events that promise them volume or highly curated experiences that ensure their ICP is there, highly engaged, and open to networking. The missing piece, conceptual innovation, is where breakthrough moments and meaning live. It's also the piece with no natural revenue model.
The Impact of Scale
We're not saying scale is bad. That's like saying you liked The Killers before they became mainstream. We know we're in the business of selling, so saying you're inherently against it is, well, kind of lame. But with scale comes innate tradeoffs.
Late-stage SaaS companies, trade associations linked with policyholders and lobbyists, and PE-backed exhibition holdcos now control the lion's share of event calendars. Their main advantages are size, scale, and operational excellence. They have the team size (and budget) to serve large audiences worldwide, which is why they're breaking into global markets. Scale and revenue potential are top of mind, so they focus on large brands with strict corporate communications policies and "premier sponsorship models" that promise vendors top-tier speaking slots.
Sometimes, the result is illuminating. One notable example is the NRF Big Show, which featured Azita Martin, VP and GM of Retail and CPG at NVIDIA, as a keynote speaker in 2025. When AI and agentic commerce were just gaining momentum in the industry, the association put Martin in the spotlight to break down actual use cases and examples, not wax poetic. Other times, the result is a lot of PR gobbledygook that fails to advance industry dialogue.
The need to appeal to a diverse global audience also means there is less room for niche topics and emerging brands until there is a clear, research-backed need. NRF optimizes for operational excellence and ecosystem signaling, incorporating new stages, expo models, and adjacent experiences when vendor and audience feedback indicate that this is where and how they should evolve.
But even these mega-events are shaped by who has money to spend, and right now, the money is shifting. The companies with the deepest pockets in commerce technology are no longer the legacy platforms that have historically underwritten the mid-tier conference circuit. They're the AI infrastructure players: OpenAI, Anthropic, and AWS. And so far, these companies have concentrated their event dollars almost exclusively at the top of the pyramid, at NRF, at Shoptalk, and at CES, where they can reach the largest audiences and signal market leadership in a single swing.
This creates a cascading effect. The biggest shows absorb the most innovative sponsors. The mid-range and regional conferences, the ones that should theoretically function as proving grounds for emerging ideas, are left dependent on sponsorship from legacy platform vendors whose best days of innovation may be behind them. The content at these events skews heavily toward spon-con: presentations delivered by sales staff rather than practitioners, case studies presented by merchants who didn't do the work (their agency did), sessions that lack real-world use cases or tactical depth. The agenda becomes a function of who's willing to pay for it, and the people willing to pay are selling last cycle's tools.
This is the knowledge gap in action. The frontier is funded at the top and absent in the middle, and it's in the middle where most of the industry actually lives.
Content Collapse
Historically, industry conferences were the primary venues for learning about new and emerging trends. The success of an event hinged on the depth of the agenda and the quality of speakers. That equation has quietly inverted.
Nearly all event organizers (95%) surveyed by Bizzabo said incorporating "experiential learning" was important. That means less "death by PowerPoint" and more hands-on formats and interactive workshops. 75% say it's important to provide immersive experiences that allow attendees to disconnect during events. Read generously, this is an industry evolving toward richer engagement. Read critically, it's an industry that has learned experience converts better than insight.
Networking and experiences like hosted meetings and curated dinners now take precedence over content depth, particularly in terms of capital investment. Content can sometimes be a liability if quality sessions and speakers are prioritized over serving what actually pays the bills: opportunities for sponsors and exhibitors to meet with their prospects. When the schedule is built around sponsor access, a packed content track isn't a feature. It's a scheduling conflict.
But there is a more existential issue at play. When events are fighting for market share, they focus first and foremost on acquiring speakers who generate the most buzz. Innovative yet lesser-known brands are bypassed for large public retailers. Independent consulting firms and futurists with bold points of view are overlooked in favor of talking heads who reinforce mainstream industry narratives. The result is that no matter which event an executive or operator attends, they end up hearing from the same circle of speakers, all regurgitating the same data, same anecdotes, and same frameworks. The discourse becomes self-referential. The industry mistakes consensus for progress.
This is where the knowledge crisis becomes self-perpetuating. The merchants and operators who attend these events aren't learning what's actually happening at the frontier. They're learning what last year's sponsors want them to believe is happening.
Experience as Leverage
Okay, weâve railed on whatâs not working. Letâs talk about the upside of investing in experience, because there is a growing network of events that prioritize innovation and are built and operated by agencies. The industry events calendar has historically served retailers, brands, hardware vendors, and SaaS companies, leaving the agencies and strategy firms stuck in the middle.
Because agencies are builders, they recognize the importance of experience. Agency-hosted events balance attendees' experiential expectations with thought-provoking content and meaningful networking opportunities. The venue matters. The city matters. But so does what's said on stage.
This year's EEE Miami event during Miami Ecommerce Week was the largest to date. With more than 500 attendees, the event took place at the Ritz-Carlton Key Biscayne, a five-star waterfront resort that exudes luxury and exclusivity. Emotional resonance and memorability drive the ROI. When these aspects are strong, attendees and sponsors still report loving an event even when some mechanical and operational components are lacking. That's the power of getting the conceptual layer right: it creates a gravitational pull that forgives imperfection elsewhere.
Sometimes, a larger event can maintain this advantage. The Manifest conference takes place in the mecca of industry events, Las Vegas, which is enough for some to release a dramatic groan. But its expo is an expansive environment that delivers on the event's tagline: "The future of supply chain and logistics is here." While traditional retail events tend to favor POS, order management systems, and software solutions, the Manifest floor was brimming with robotics, drones, forklifts, and even autonomous vehicles. It illustrated that the future wasn't just something to aspire to; it was very much real and at the Venetian. That's conceptual innovation expressed through the expo itself, not just the speaker track.
These events aren't perfect. They don't have the operational machinery of an NRF or the networking infrastructure of a Shoptalk. But they represent something the scaled model struggles to produce: a point of view. An editorial sensibility about what matters and who should be talking about it. In a landscape where most agendas are assembled by sponsor tier, an event with a curatorial instinct is genuinely rare.
The Era of Conceptual Innovation
We said earlier that commerce is culture, and that no one is immune to its pull. That includes the events industry itself. Conferences have become commerce products, optimized the same way any DTC brand optimizes: for desire, for conversion, for the feeling that you're part of something.
Sitting between the industryâs mega-expos and highly curated summits is a âmessy middleâ built on capital-light, insight-heavy experimentation. While there will always be a place for operational and experiential innovation, the next frontier emphasizes conceptual innovation, with events elevating new business models, foresight, and next-horizon thinking that add a new dimension to commerce conversations.Â
The most successful events in the future will overlap in all three areas.
Though they wonât be the largest, they will have the operational efficiency to run smoothly as they create formats and experiences that inspire attendees to disconnect and immerse themselves in the moment. But the most critical layer is that these experiences will be designed to create moments for thinking and meaningful, provocative conversation, not haphazard meetups that focus on the velocity of your pitch. The content, the expo halls, and the moments of connection will be designed to inspire and catalyze deep thought and ideation, rather than compete with them.
We donât need more panels, God, please, no. We need new formats: smaller, insights, and media-led convenings with editorial points of view. Capital-light models that don't require a sponsor tier to earn a speaking slot. Experiences designed around thinking, not attendance. Not because content is more important than experience, but because in an industry where culture and commerce are one and the same, what we say to each other in these rooms eventually becomes what we build.
In a saturated events calendar, the most valuable rooms arenât necessarily going to be the largest, but the ones most willing to go against the grain.
Innovation didn't disappear from retail. The innovators just don't have a stage yet. That's the part we can change.
You can feel it at every midmarket conference where a sales engineer from a legacy SaaS platform delivers a spon-con keynote or fireside chat that's really a product plug. You can see it in the event agendas, where the speakers with the boldest points of view are consistently passed over for the CMO of a publicly traded retailer whose comms team has pre-approved (and watered down) every slide.
And you can trace it (if you follow the money) to a structural problem that goes deeper than any single event: the people doing the most innovative work in commerce can't afford to buy time on a stage, and the people who can afford it have the least interesting things to say.
Itâs Always Ladies' Night
I've said it on the Future Commerce podcast a number of different ways throughout the years (though my personal favorite remains "it's always Ladies Night in eCommerce"), but there are simply too many events, treating merchants as royalty, competing for a shrinking pie of white-collar professionals who face significant hiring headwinds in the middle of agentic disruption.
The expo industry was valued at over $1.4 trillion in 2025 and is on track to grow at an 11.38% CAGR through 2033. In the age of remote work (and even return-to-office), we're just happy to be out among other people, having experiences. 71% of executives believe in-person conferences are the most effective way to learn about new products or services. 54% plan to attend even more events this year.
Here's what those numbers obtuse: thereâs a widening gap between attendance and insight. The industry is experiencing what you might call âintellectual arbitrage,â where capital determines who gets to shape the conversation about what's next, and the result is a discourse that sounds samey-samey. The same brands, the same 12 talking heads. The same aphorisms are recycled across different ballrooms in different cities. If every room sounds the same, the industry stops advancing.
Maybe itâs a mistake to call it an events problem, because itâs very much a capital-structure problem, too. One that mirrors the broader dynamics of the commerce ecosystemâconsider the AI spending hierarchy: OpenAI, Anthropic, and AWS have so far concentrated their event dollars at the top-tier shows like NRF and Shoptalk, where they can reach the largest audiences and signal market leadership.
That leaves the mid-range and regional conferences (the shows that theoretically should be the proving grounds for emerging ideas) dependent on sponsorship from legacy platform vendors. The content at these events is overwhelmingly spon-con, delivered by sales staff or by a case-study merchant who didnât deliver the work (it was their agency), and it lacks real-world use cases, practical insights, or tactical depth.
The agenda is a function of who's willing to pay for it.
Meanwhile, the professionals closest to the frontier are agencies, systems integrators, and independent consultants. These are the builders who see disruptions and red flags before anyone else because they're doing the inside work across dozens of brands. They are structurally excluded from the main stages, and even if they did pony up the dollars, theyâre generally derided. Their insights, which are often the most relevant and unvarnished, stay invisible to the broader industry. I know because I helped pilot Something Digital to a successful exit to Genpact, and getting speaking engagements was such a nightmare, I had to start my own business and represent myself as an independent.
And then there are the merchants themselves, the audience for all of this. The biggest events now fly executives to five-star resorts and put them up in luxury suites; theyâd get cutting-edge content, world-class networking, and an experience their LinkedIn followers will envy.
But the fine print: a calendar packed with hosted meetings, a merchant's time bartered to sponsors as compensation for the trip. Days that were supposed to be about learning and connection are consumed by thirty-minute sales pitches from vendors the attendee may have no interest in. The glitz is a de-facto requirement because the competition among events is so fierce. Celebrity speakers, exotic destinations, and luxury venuesâall of it comes ahead of content.
But here's the uncomfortable truth that makes this essay harder to write than a straightforward critique: none of this actually matters in the way we think it should. Content is secondary to experience now. That is the state of the industry. You can find content anywhere, just ask your answer engine. What you can't replicate from your home office is the feeling of being in the room, of proximity to the people and energy that make you feel like you're at the center of the industry. Commerce is culture, and no one is immune to its pull, not even the people writing critical essays about it.
The events industry isnât âbroken.â People are still eager to attend, sponsors are still eager to spend, and organizers are still building bigger, glossier experiences.
The question is what we're optimizing for, and who gets left out of the conversation when experience eclipses insight and capital eclipses ideas.
Calendar Pollution and Event Dilution
There was a time when the retail industry's conference calendar consisted of distinct peaks in Q1 and Q3. It was manageable, especially if you had the budget to get an all-hands-on-deck.Â
Now, teams must navigate a year-round barrage of trips that require better prioritization, stricter budgeting, and more thoughtful planning. Once-loyal attendees are âsitting this one outâ to see if their time and money are better spent elsewhere. Annual exhibitors and sponsors are developing new metrics to determine whether the events they once considered tried and true are, in fact, yielding financial returns. (Donât get us started on SaaS user cons that appear out of nowhere with three months' notice.)
You could read the size and diversity of the event landscape as proof of our industryâs dynamism. But when many come out of these experiences depleted and mentally overwhelmed, it's worth asking whether the events are meaningful to professional development, or whether producers are architecting a new form of industry FOMO that does little more than pollute our LinkedIn feeds.
The concentration effect is real. As the calendar crowds, travel budgets will naturally consolidate around âsafeâ bets. Attendance growth at the top isn't necessarily proof that events are working; it may be proof that risk aversion is working. Fewer organizations are spreading dollars across six or seven shows. They're doubling down on two or three, which funnels even more attention (and therefore influence) toward the events with the most capital behind them.
As industry events scale through M&A or investment, they typically fall into the trap of focusing on capital efficiency and sponsor satisfaction rather than on the quality of experience and topical innovation. And those smaller events that aim to take the industry by storm? They tend to act as true market disruptors, bringing in new voices, new brands, and new experiential components that reinvigorate the market. Until they reach their true finish line: an acquisition by a large holding company that follows its playbook for global reach and scale. The end result is an over-reliance on spon-con and high-end hosted buyer programs. It's the same model, time after time, at every revenue band.
This cycle makes it harder for frontier thinking to achieve at scale, something merchants will need (and event organizers should be thinking ahead about) as we head into more disruptive AI times.Â
All events employ the same networking models because they are âproven to work.â The same executives get the main stages, largely because they represent the brands getting the most PR and media play. When pockets of innovation emerge, smaller producers invest in the experience itself: the city, the venue, the surrounding culture. They monetize networking breaks, after-hours events, and excursions to connect sponsors to attendees.
But when operations falter, and the schedule goes off-kilter, programming ends up eating into the one thing sponsors actually want: face time. All of which tells us that industry events are now more about being there than learning there.
Something needs to change.
A New Framework for Event Experience Measurement
Industry conferences and expos can be analyzed using a simple 2x2 model that captures the core tension between an event's scale and its strategic ambition.
The x-axis is size, and both ends of the spectrum carry advantages depending on your goals. Small events may be more niche, but they provide access. It's easier to meet the right people because they're not hiding their badges to avoid being sold to. Larger events allow you to fish with a bigger net; if you cast wide enough, you statistically have a higher likelihood of meeting "the right person." And if the event offers services like hosted meetings, your chances are even better.
A "Goldilocks" model that combines size and intimacy initially helped Shoptalk become such a distinct player in a marketplace struggling with event homogeneity. The event was founded at a time when larger conferences focused solely on the square footage of their expo spaces. Although Shoptalk's global network of events is indeed large, there are always tailored networking moments, activations, and intimate dinners that make the community feel more approachable and connected.
The y-axis explores strategic execution. On one end is conceptual innovation: formats, content models, and experiences that are truly distinct yet possibly not operationally perfect. On the other end is operational excellence: a scalable, finely-tuned âmachineâ where every cog, from agenda to registration, speaker management, hosted meetings, and expo floor operations, is running smoothly.

In our nearly three decades of experience attending events of all sizes, we have found that producers typically prioritize three types of event innovation:
- Operational innovation: Logistics, orchestration, efficiency, seamlessness, and tech integration
- Experiential innovation: Design, destination, format, and off-site, after-hours events
- Conceptual innovation: New models, an emphasis on content, and speakers that inspire beyond-the-horizon thinking
The reality is that most events over-index on the first two, and the economics explain why.
Operational innovation serves a logistics team with a budget line, and experiential innovation sells tickets and drives FOMO. Conceptual innovation inspires people, which is a much harder line item to defend in a budget meeting (and so, so much harder to sell, just ask us).
Sponsors want to either be part of large events that promise them volume or highly curated experiences that ensure their ICP is there, highly engaged, and open to networking. The missing piece, conceptual innovation, is where breakthrough moments and meaning live. It's also the piece with no natural revenue model.
The Impact of Scale
We're not saying scale is bad. That's like saying you liked The Killers before they became mainstream. We know we're in the business of selling, so saying you're inherently against it is, well, kind of lame. But with scale comes innate tradeoffs.
Late-stage SaaS companies, trade associations linked with policyholders and lobbyists, and PE-backed exhibition holdcos now control the lion's share of event calendars. Their main advantages are size, scale, and operational excellence. They have the team size (and budget) to serve large audiences worldwide, which is why they're breaking into global markets. Scale and revenue potential are top of mind, so they focus on large brands with strict corporate communications policies and "premier sponsorship models" that promise vendors top-tier speaking slots.
Sometimes, the result is illuminating. One notable example is the NRF Big Show, which featured Azita Martin, VP and GM of Retail and CPG at NVIDIA, as a keynote speaker in 2025. When AI and agentic commerce were just gaining momentum in the industry, the association put Martin in the spotlight to break down actual use cases and examples, not wax poetic. Other times, the result is a lot of PR gobbledygook that fails to advance industry dialogue.
The need to appeal to a diverse global audience also means there is less room for niche topics and emerging brands until there is a clear, research-backed need. NRF optimizes for operational excellence and ecosystem signaling, incorporating new stages, expo models, and adjacent experiences when vendor and audience feedback indicate that this is where and how they should evolve.
But even these mega-events are shaped by who has money to spend, and right now, the money is shifting. The companies with the deepest pockets in commerce technology are no longer the legacy platforms that have historically underwritten the mid-tier conference circuit. They're the AI infrastructure players: OpenAI, Anthropic, and AWS. And so far, these companies have concentrated their event dollars almost exclusively at the top of the pyramid, at NRF, at Shoptalk, and at CES, where they can reach the largest audiences and signal market leadership in a single swing.
This creates a cascading effect. The biggest shows absorb the most innovative sponsors. The mid-range and regional conferences, the ones that should theoretically function as proving grounds for emerging ideas, are left dependent on sponsorship from legacy platform vendors whose best days of innovation may be behind them. The content at these events skews heavily toward spon-con: presentations delivered by sales staff rather than practitioners, case studies presented by merchants who didn't do the work (their agency did), sessions that lack real-world use cases or tactical depth. The agenda becomes a function of who's willing to pay for it, and the people willing to pay are selling last cycle's tools.
This is the knowledge gap in action. The frontier is funded at the top and absent in the middle, and it's in the middle where most of the industry actually lives.
Content Collapse
Historically, industry conferences were the primary venues for learning about new and emerging trends. The success of an event hinged on the depth of the agenda and the quality of speakers. That equation has quietly inverted.
Nearly all event organizers (95%) surveyed by Bizzabo said incorporating "experiential learning" was important. That means less "death by PowerPoint" and more hands-on formats and interactive workshops. 75% say it's important to provide immersive experiences that allow attendees to disconnect during events. Read generously, this is an industry evolving toward richer engagement. Read critically, it's an industry that has learned experience converts better than insight.
Networking and experiences like hosted meetings and curated dinners now take precedence over content depth, particularly in terms of capital investment. Content can sometimes be a liability if quality sessions and speakers are prioritized over serving what actually pays the bills: opportunities for sponsors and exhibitors to meet with their prospects. When the schedule is built around sponsor access, a packed content track isn't a feature. It's a scheduling conflict.
But there is a more existential issue at play. When events are fighting for market share, they focus first and foremost on acquiring speakers who generate the most buzz. Innovative yet lesser-known brands are bypassed for large public retailers. Independent consulting firms and futurists with bold points of view are overlooked in favor of talking heads who reinforce mainstream industry narratives. The result is that no matter which event an executive or operator attends, they end up hearing from the same circle of speakers, all regurgitating the same data, same anecdotes, and same frameworks. The discourse becomes self-referential. The industry mistakes consensus for progress.
This is where the knowledge crisis becomes self-perpetuating. The merchants and operators who attend these events aren't learning what's actually happening at the frontier. They're learning what last year's sponsors want them to believe is happening.
Experience as Leverage
Okay, weâve railed on whatâs not working. Letâs talk about the upside of investing in experience, because there is a growing network of events that prioritize innovation and are built and operated by agencies. The industry events calendar has historically served retailers, brands, hardware vendors, and SaaS companies, leaving the agencies and strategy firms stuck in the middle.
Because agencies are builders, they recognize the importance of experience. Agency-hosted events balance attendees' experiential expectations with thought-provoking content and meaningful networking opportunities. The venue matters. The city matters. But so does what's said on stage.
This year's EEE Miami event during Miami Ecommerce Week was the largest to date. With more than 500 attendees, the event took place at the Ritz-Carlton Key Biscayne, a five-star waterfront resort that exudes luxury and exclusivity. Emotional resonance and memorability drive the ROI. When these aspects are strong, attendees and sponsors still report loving an event even when some mechanical and operational components are lacking. That's the power of getting the conceptual layer right: it creates a gravitational pull that forgives imperfection elsewhere.
Sometimes, a larger event can maintain this advantage. The Manifest conference takes place in the mecca of industry events, Las Vegas, which is enough for some to release a dramatic groan. But its expo is an expansive environment that delivers on the event's tagline: "The future of supply chain and logistics is here." While traditional retail events tend to favor POS, order management systems, and software solutions, the Manifest floor was brimming with robotics, drones, forklifts, and even autonomous vehicles. It illustrated that the future wasn't just something to aspire to; it was very much real and at the Venetian. That's conceptual innovation expressed through the expo itself, not just the speaker track.
These events aren't perfect. They don't have the operational machinery of an NRF or the networking infrastructure of a Shoptalk. But they represent something the scaled model struggles to produce: a point of view. An editorial sensibility about what matters and who should be talking about it. In a landscape where most agendas are assembled by sponsor tier, an event with a curatorial instinct is genuinely rare.
The Era of Conceptual Innovation
We said earlier that commerce is culture, and that no one is immune to its pull. That includes the events industry itself. Conferences have become commerce products, optimized the same way any DTC brand optimizes: for desire, for conversion, for the feeling that you're part of something.
Sitting between the industryâs mega-expos and highly curated summits is a âmessy middleâ built on capital-light, insight-heavy experimentation. While there will always be a place for operational and experiential innovation, the next frontier emphasizes conceptual innovation, with events elevating new business models, foresight, and next-horizon thinking that add a new dimension to commerce conversations.Â
The most successful events in the future will overlap in all three areas.
Though they wonât be the largest, they will have the operational efficiency to run smoothly as they create formats and experiences that inspire attendees to disconnect and immerse themselves in the moment. But the most critical layer is that these experiences will be designed to create moments for thinking and meaningful, provocative conversation, not haphazard meetups that focus on the velocity of your pitch. The content, the expo halls, and the moments of connection will be designed to inspire and catalyze deep thought and ideation, rather than compete with them.
We donât need more panels, God, please, no. We need new formats: smaller, insights, and media-led convenings with editorial points of view. Capital-light models that don't require a sponsor tier to earn a speaking slot. Experiences designed around thinking, not attendance. Not because content is more important than experience, but because in an industry where culture and commerce are one and the same, what we say to each other in these rooms eventually becomes what we build.
In a saturated events calendar, the most valuable rooms arenât necessarily going to be the largest, but the ones most willing to go against the grain.
Innovation didn't disappear from retail. The innovators just don't have a stage yet. That's the part we can change.
You can feel it at every midmarket conference where a sales engineer from a legacy SaaS platform delivers a spon-con keynote or fireside chat that's really a product plug. You can see it in the event agendas, where the speakers with the boldest points of view are consistently passed over for the CMO of a publicly traded retailer whose comms team has pre-approved (and watered down) every slide.
And you can trace it (if you follow the money) to a structural problem that goes deeper than any single event: the people doing the most innovative work in commerce can't afford to buy time on a stage, and the people who can afford it have the least interesting things to say.
Itâs Always Ladies' Night
I've said it on the Future Commerce podcast a number of different ways throughout the years (though my personal favorite remains "it's always Ladies Night in eCommerce"), but there are simply too many events, treating merchants as royalty, competing for a shrinking pie of white-collar professionals who face significant hiring headwinds in the middle of agentic disruption.
The expo industry was valued at over $1.4 trillion in 2025 and is on track to grow at an 11.38% CAGR through 2033. In the age of remote work (and even return-to-office), we're just happy to be out among other people, having experiences. 71% of executives believe in-person conferences are the most effective way to learn about new products or services. 54% plan to attend even more events this year.
Here's what those numbers obtuse: thereâs a widening gap between attendance and insight. The industry is experiencing what you might call âintellectual arbitrage,â where capital determines who gets to shape the conversation about what's next, and the result is a discourse that sounds samey-samey. The same brands, the same 12 talking heads. The same aphorisms are recycled across different ballrooms in different cities. If every room sounds the same, the industry stops advancing.
Maybe itâs a mistake to call it an events problem, because itâs very much a capital-structure problem, too. One that mirrors the broader dynamics of the commerce ecosystemâconsider the AI spending hierarchy: OpenAI, Anthropic, and AWS have so far concentrated their event dollars at the top-tier shows like NRF and Shoptalk, where they can reach the largest audiences and signal market leadership.
That leaves the mid-range and regional conferences (the shows that theoretically should be the proving grounds for emerging ideas) dependent on sponsorship from legacy platform vendors. The content at these events is overwhelmingly spon-con, delivered by sales staff or by a case-study merchant who didnât deliver the work (it was their agency), and it lacks real-world use cases, practical insights, or tactical depth.
The agenda is a function of who's willing to pay for it.
Meanwhile, the professionals closest to the frontier are agencies, systems integrators, and independent consultants. These are the builders who see disruptions and red flags before anyone else because they're doing the inside work across dozens of brands. They are structurally excluded from the main stages, and even if they did pony up the dollars, theyâre generally derided. Their insights, which are often the most relevant and unvarnished, stay invisible to the broader industry. I know because I helped pilot Something Digital to a successful exit to Genpact, and getting speaking engagements was such a nightmare, I had to start my own business and represent myself as an independent.
And then there are the merchants themselves, the audience for all of this. The biggest events now fly executives to five-star resorts and put them up in luxury suites; theyâd get cutting-edge content, world-class networking, and an experience their LinkedIn followers will envy.
But the fine print: a calendar packed with hosted meetings, a merchant's time bartered to sponsors as compensation for the trip. Days that were supposed to be about learning and connection are consumed by thirty-minute sales pitches from vendors the attendee may have no interest in. The glitz is a de-facto requirement because the competition among events is so fierce. Celebrity speakers, exotic destinations, and luxury venuesâall of it comes ahead of content.
But here's the uncomfortable truth that makes this essay harder to write than a straightforward critique: none of this actually matters in the way we think it should. Content is secondary to experience now. That is the state of the industry. You can find content anywhere, just ask your answer engine. What you can't replicate from your home office is the feeling of being in the room, of proximity to the people and energy that make you feel like you're at the center of the industry. Commerce is culture, and no one is immune to its pull, not even the people writing critical essays about it.
The events industry isnât âbroken.â People are still eager to attend, sponsors are still eager to spend, and organizers are still building bigger, glossier experiences.
The question is what we're optimizing for, and who gets left out of the conversation when experience eclipses insight and capital eclipses ideas.
Calendar Pollution and Event Dilution
There was a time when the retail industry's conference calendar consisted of distinct peaks in Q1 and Q3. It was manageable, especially if you had the budget to get an all-hands-on-deck.Â
Now, teams must navigate a year-round barrage of trips that require better prioritization, stricter budgeting, and more thoughtful planning. Once-loyal attendees are âsitting this one outâ to see if their time and money are better spent elsewhere. Annual exhibitors and sponsors are developing new metrics to determine whether the events they once considered tried and true are, in fact, yielding financial returns. (Donât get us started on SaaS user cons that appear out of nowhere with three months' notice.)
You could read the size and diversity of the event landscape as proof of our industryâs dynamism. But when many come out of these experiences depleted and mentally overwhelmed, it's worth asking whether the events are meaningful to professional development, or whether producers are architecting a new form of industry FOMO that does little more than pollute our LinkedIn feeds.
The concentration effect is real. As the calendar crowds, travel budgets will naturally consolidate around âsafeâ bets. Attendance growth at the top isn't necessarily proof that events are working; it may be proof that risk aversion is working. Fewer organizations are spreading dollars across six or seven shows. They're doubling down on two or three, which funnels even more attention (and therefore influence) toward the events with the most capital behind them.
As industry events scale through M&A or investment, they typically fall into the trap of focusing on capital efficiency and sponsor satisfaction rather than on the quality of experience and topical innovation. And those smaller events that aim to take the industry by storm? They tend to act as true market disruptors, bringing in new voices, new brands, and new experiential components that reinvigorate the market. Until they reach their true finish line: an acquisition by a large holding company that follows its playbook for global reach and scale. The end result is an over-reliance on spon-con and high-end hosted buyer programs. It's the same model, time after time, at every revenue band.
This cycle makes it harder for frontier thinking to achieve at scale, something merchants will need (and event organizers should be thinking ahead about) as we head into more disruptive AI times.Â
All events employ the same networking models because they are âproven to work.â The same executives get the main stages, largely because they represent the brands getting the most PR and media play. When pockets of innovation emerge, smaller producers invest in the experience itself: the city, the venue, the surrounding culture. They monetize networking breaks, after-hours events, and excursions to connect sponsors to attendees.
But when operations falter, and the schedule goes off-kilter, programming ends up eating into the one thing sponsors actually want: face time. All of which tells us that industry events are now more about being there than learning there.
Something needs to change.
A New Framework for Event Experience Measurement
Industry conferences and expos can be analyzed using a simple 2x2 model that captures the core tension between an event's scale and its strategic ambition.
The x-axis is size, and both ends of the spectrum carry advantages depending on your goals. Small events may be more niche, but they provide access. It's easier to meet the right people because they're not hiding their badges to avoid being sold to. Larger events allow you to fish with a bigger net; if you cast wide enough, you statistically have a higher likelihood of meeting "the right person." And if the event offers services like hosted meetings, your chances are even better.
A "Goldilocks" model that combines size and intimacy initially helped Shoptalk become such a distinct player in a marketplace struggling with event homogeneity. The event was founded at a time when larger conferences focused solely on the square footage of their expo spaces. Although Shoptalk's global network of events is indeed large, there are always tailored networking moments, activations, and intimate dinners that make the community feel more approachable and connected.
The y-axis explores strategic execution. On one end is conceptual innovation: formats, content models, and experiences that are truly distinct yet possibly not operationally perfect. On the other end is operational excellence: a scalable, finely-tuned âmachineâ where every cog, from agenda to registration, speaker management, hosted meetings, and expo floor operations, is running smoothly.

In our nearly three decades of experience attending events of all sizes, we have found that producers typically prioritize three types of event innovation:
- Operational innovation: Logistics, orchestration, efficiency, seamlessness, and tech integration
- Experiential innovation: Design, destination, format, and off-site, after-hours events
- Conceptual innovation: New models, an emphasis on content, and speakers that inspire beyond-the-horizon thinking
The reality is that most events over-index on the first two, and the economics explain why.
Operational innovation serves a logistics team with a budget line, and experiential innovation sells tickets and drives FOMO. Conceptual innovation inspires people, which is a much harder line item to defend in a budget meeting (and so, so much harder to sell, just ask us).
Sponsors want to either be part of large events that promise them volume or highly curated experiences that ensure their ICP is there, highly engaged, and open to networking. The missing piece, conceptual innovation, is where breakthrough moments and meaning live. It's also the piece with no natural revenue model.
The Impact of Scale
We're not saying scale is bad. That's like saying you liked The Killers before they became mainstream. We know we're in the business of selling, so saying you're inherently against it is, well, kind of lame. But with scale comes innate tradeoffs.
Late-stage SaaS companies, trade associations linked with policyholders and lobbyists, and PE-backed exhibition holdcos now control the lion's share of event calendars. Their main advantages are size, scale, and operational excellence. They have the team size (and budget) to serve large audiences worldwide, which is why they're breaking into global markets. Scale and revenue potential are top of mind, so they focus on large brands with strict corporate communications policies and "premier sponsorship models" that promise vendors top-tier speaking slots.
Sometimes, the result is illuminating. One notable example is the NRF Big Show, which featured Azita Martin, VP and GM of Retail and CPG at NVIDIA, as a keynote speaker in 2025. When AI and agentic commerce were just gaining momentum in the industry, the association put Martin in the spotlight to break down actual use cases and examples, not wax poetic. Other times, the result is a lot of PR gobbledygook that fails to advance industry dialogue.
The need to appeal to a diverse global audience also means there is less room for niche topics and emerging brands until there is a clear, research-backed need. NRF optimizes for operational excellence and ecosystem signaling, incorporating new stages, expo models, and adjacent experiences when vendor and audience feedback indicate that this is where and how they should evolve.
But even these mega-events are shaped by who has money to spend, and right now, the money is shifting. The companies with the deepest pockets in commerce technology are no longer the legacy platforms that have historically underwritten the mid-tier conference circuit. They're the AI infrastructure players: OpenAI, Anthropic, and AWS. And so far, these companies have concentrated their event dollars almost exclusively at the top of the pyramid, at NRF, at Shoptalk, and at CES, where they can reach the largest audiences and signal market leadership in a single swing.
This creates a cascading effect. The biggest shows absorb the most innovative sponsors. The mid-range and regional conferences, the ones that should theoretically function as proving grounds for emerging ideas, are left dependent on sponsorship from legacy platform vendors whose best days of innovation may be behind them. The content at these events skews heavily toward spon-con: presentations delivered by sales staff rather than practitioners, case studies presented by merchants who didn't do the work (their agency did), sessions that lack real-world use cases or tactical depth. The agenda becomes a function of who's willing to pay for it, and the people willing to pay are selling last cycle's tools.
This is the knowledge gap in action. The frontier is funded at the top and absent in the middle, and it's in the middle where most of the industry actually lives.
Content Collapse
Historically, industry conferences were the primary venues for learning about new and emerging trends. The success of an event hinged on the depth of the agenda and the quality of speakers. That equation has quietly inverted.
Nearly all event organizers (95%) surveyed by Bizzabo said incorporating "experiential learning" was important. That means less "death by PowerPoint" and more hands-on formats and interactive workshops. 75% say it's important to provide immersive experiences that allow attendees to disconnect during events. Read generously, this is an industry evolving toward richer engagement. Read critically, it's an industry that has learned experience converts better than insight.
Networking and experiences like hosted meetings and curated dinners now take precedence over content depth, particularly in terms of capital investment. Content can sometimes be a liability if quality sessions and speakers are prioritized over serving what actually pays the bills: opportunities for sponsors and exhibitors to meet with their prospects. When the schedule is built around sponsor access, a packed content track isn't a feature. It's a scheduling conflict.
But there is a more existential issue at play. When events are fighting for market share, they focus first and foremost on acquiring speakers who generate the most buzz. Innovative yet lesser-known brands are bypassed for large public retailers. Independent consulting firms and futurists with bold points of view are overlooked in favor of talking heads who reinforce mainstream industry narratives. The result is that no matter which event an executive or operator attends, they end up hearing from the same circle of speakers, all regurgitating the same data, same anecdotes, and same frameworks. The discourse becomes self-referential. The industry mistakes consensus for progress.
This is where the knowledge crisis becomes self-perpetuating. The merchants and operators who attend these events aren't learning what's actually happening at the frontier. They're learning what last year's sponsors want them to believe is happening.
Experience as Leverage
Okay, weâve railed on whatâs not working. Letâs talk about the upside of investing in experience, because there is a growing network of events that prioritize innovation and are built and operated by agencies. The industry events calendar has historically served retailers, brands, hardware vendors, and SaaS companies, leaving the agencies and strategy firms stuck in the middle.
Because agencies are builders, they recognize the importance of experience. Agency-hosted events balance attendees' experiential expectations with thought-provoking content and meaningful networking opportunities. The venue matters. The city matters. But so does what's said on stage.
This year's EEE Miami event during Miami Ecommerce Week was the largest to date. With more than 500 attendees, the event took place at the Ritz-Carlton Key Biscayne, a five-star waterfront resort that exudes luxury and exclusivity. Emotional resonance and memorability drive the ROI. When these aspects are strong, attendees and sponsors still report loving an event even when some mechanical and operational components are lacking. That's the power of getting the conceptual layer right: it creates a gravitational pull that forgives imperfection elsewhere.
Sometimes, a larger event can maintain this advantage. The Manifest conference takes place in the mecca of industry events, Las Vegas, which is enough for some to release a dramatic groan. But its expo is an expansive environment that delivers on the event's tagline: "The future of supply chain and logistics is here." While traditional retail events tend to favor POS, order management systems, and software solutions, the Manifest floor was brimming with robotics, drones, forklifts, and even autonomous vehicles. It illustrated that the future wasn't just something to aspire to; it was very much real and at the Venetian. That's conceptual innovation expressed through the expo itself, not just the speaker track.
These events aren't perfect. They don't have the operational machinery of an NRF or the networking infrastructure of a Shoptalk. But they represent something the scaled model struggles to produce: a point of view. An editorial sensibility about what matters and who should be talking about it. In a landscape where most agendas are assembled by sponsor tier, an event with a curatorial instinct is genuinely rare.
The Era of Conceptual Innovation
We said earlier that commerce is culture, and that no one is immune to its pull. That includes the events industry itself. Conferences have become commerce products, optimized the same way any DTC brand optimizes: for desire, for conversion, for the feeling that you're part of something.
Sitting between the industryâs mega-expos and highly curated summits is a âmessy middleâ built on capital-light, insight-heavy experimentation. While there will always be a place for operational and experiential innovation, the next frontier emphasizes conceptual innovation, with events elevating new business models, foresight, and next-horizon thinking that add a new dimension to commerce conversations.Â
The most successful events in the future will overlap in all three areas.
Though they wonât be the largest, they will have the operational efficiency to run smoothly as they create formats and experiences that inspire attendees to disconnect and immerse themselves in the moment. But the most critical layer is that these experiences will be designed to create moments for thinking and meaningful, provocative conversation, not haphazard meetups that focus on the velocity of your pitch. The content, the expo halls, and the moments of connection will be designed to inspire and catalyze deep thought and ideation, rather than compete with them.
We donât need more panels, God, please, no. We need new formats: smaller, insights, and media-led convenings with editorial points of view. Capital-light models that don't require a sponsor tier to earn a speaking slot. Experiences designed around thinking, not attendance. Not because content is more important than experience, but because in an industry where culture and commerce are one and the same, what we say to each other in these rooms eventually becomes what we build.
In a saturated events calendar, the most valuable rooms arenât necessarily going to be the largest, but the ones most willing to go against the grain.
Innovation didn't disappear from retail. The innovators just don't have a stage yet. That's the part we can change.
Continue Reading...
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