There is something appealing about getting an entire industry into the same place. People whose work you follow, companies whose products you use, peers dealing with problems you recognise. For a few days, you have the chance to step outside your usual working environment and discover how other people are approaching the same challenges.
It is a good reason to go. It is also a considerable promise to deliver on.
An industry event brings together people with very different expectations. Exhibitors need to justify their investment. Visitors want useful ideas, connections or solutions. Speakers want an audience. Organisers have to make the whole thing commercially viable. We tend to describe all of this as “bringing the industry together”, although being in the same building does not necessarily mean we came for the same thing.
Earlier this month, I attended Zukunft Personal Europe, the HR event in Cologne, with JOIN. I experienced it from both sides: representing our company at the stand and exploring as a talent acquisition professional.
That put me in a slightly uncomfortable position. Behind our stand, I wanted conversations relevant to our business. Walking around as a visitor, I wanted space to ask questions without having to become somebody else’s sales opportunity.
Both expectations felt reasonable. The tension between them was undeniable.
When we say an event is “for the industry”, how much room does that leave for someone who has experience to contribute, but nothing to buy?
What happens when you are not a potential customer?
Most of my encounters in Cologne were open and friendly, including conversations with competitors. Quick chats became half-hour discussions. There were familiar faces, new connections and honest exchanges about hiring. Those were good reasons to be there.
But in a few interactions, I felt the interest fade once it became clear I was unlikely to become a customer. Nothing particularly dramatic happened. The conversation simply seemed to have reached its limit before my curiosity had.
I understand qualification. I work in recruitment; finding out whether there is a fit is hardly an unfamiliar concept. But I noticed how quickly interest in the conversation could fade once a sale was unlikely.
A practitioner, even when not interested in purchasing, may know exactly where a process breaks down. They may be the person who will eventually use the software, persuade a manager to consider it, or explain why the last implementation failed. They may also never buy it. Their experience still belongs in a discussion about the industry they work in.
If we only make time for people who might buy from us, we miss plenty of people worth talking to.
Behind the stand, the pressure is real
Being an exhibitor made it difficult to feel entirely righteous about this.
Behind a few days of conversations sit weeks of preparation, decisions about budgets, logistics, messaging and people’s time. Of course you want to meet potential customers. Someone eventually has to explain what the investment achieved.
A busy stand can create the impression that everything is going well, even when it is difficult to tell what anyone is getting out of the encounters. Some visitors are exploring. Some are passing through. Some are interested mainly in the giveaways. A bag leaving the stand tells you very little about whether an idea went with it.
Visitors have a responsibility here, too. We cannot expect every exhibitor to provide unlimited time, free advice and a peer discussion while a prospective customer waits. Being honest about why we have stopped, and arriving with a question, helps. So does accepting that sometimes there simply is no useful connection.
Still, I wonder how much of this mismatch we create ourselves. We use giveaways to attract people, then feel disappointed when the giveaway turns out to be the attraction. We invite an entire profession, then assess individual visitors through a much smaller customer profile. We promise learning and exchange, but leave people to work out where a sales conversation ends and an open discussion begins.
Everyone can be behaving quite reasonably within their own objectives, and the experience can still fall short.
Make room for the people who use the software
Representing JOIN, an applicant tracking system (ATS) and job multiposting platform, made this question particularly relevant to me. As a talent acquisition professional, I also approach recruitment technology from the perspective of someone doing the work it is intended to support.
The person managing applications or publishing vacancies may have very different questions from the person approving the budget. Both perspectives deserve room in a conversation about whether a tool is useful. Understanding how people work, where they lose time and what they need from software is valuable even when there is no immediate sale to discuss.
That is the kind of exchange I would like industry events to make easier. A product demonstration can be useful. So can a discussion between practitioners who disagree about how to solve a problem. Clearer descriptions of who each session is for, what it addresses and how people can participate would help attendees find the exchange they actually need.
Who gets to participate once they are there?
Language is part of that design, too.
German felt like the default in my experience at Zukunft Personal, which is understandable for an event in Germany. Yet there are international professionals working in this market whose daily working language is English. If they cannot comfortably follow a discussion or ask a question, some of the expertise already in the room stays out of the conversation.
For an HR event, that deserves the same attention we would give to participation in a workplace. Clearly labelled session languages, opportunities to ask questions in English and spaces for international peer exchange would help people assess what they can meaningfully take part in before they commit.
The question of who an event serves is shaped by these practical decisions long before anyone arrives. The programme, the languages, the price, the meeting spaces and the way exhibitors assess success all influence who gets value from being there.
What would make me go back?
For me, the value of attending becomes clearer afterwards. Which conversations do I want to continue? Did I learn something I can use in my work? Did anyone make me reconsider an opinion I had arrived with?
I left Cologne glad I had gone, and with questions about what would make the next event more useful. I understand the commercial reasons for being there. However, as a practitioner, I also want space for an unexpected conversation, a difficult question or an honest discussion with someone who approaches hiring differently.
That would give me a reason to return: knowing I could contribute and learn, whether or not a buying decision was involved.
An industry event has several audiences to serve. I would like to see that reflected in how people are welcomed, what they can participate in and how much room there is for a conversation without a sales outcome.