An indisputable fact: TED Talks changed how ideas spread. 

From eight to eighty-year olds, TED Talks stir curiosity. There have been TEDx events in places all over the globe — from a TEDxYouth event in Kelowna, British Columbia catered toward children with high-school students as the speakers, all the way to a TEDx in a Box event in Kliptown, one of the least developed areas of Soweto, a township near Johannesburg, where the event itself did not have (nor need) a constant supply of electricity and connection to the internet.

You may have watched an inspirational TED Talk at your team meeting, you may have a favourite TED Talk, you may have shared one with colleagues around the office, and even if you don’t remember anything from any of the TED Talks you watched, it’s likely that at least one changed you a little bit on the inside, in ways beyond measure. 

A little over a week ago, their flagship event, TED 2020 wrapped up. 

The flagship event isn’t like the TEDx events in our communities or like watching the TED Talks you and I know. It’s in-person, and at an average of $10,000 a ticket, it’s super-exclusive. Attendees bump into people like Malala Yousafzai, Al Gore, and Cher. And in 2020, like every other event, it was forced to go online for the first time. But here’s something worth noting: they made the risky decision to maintain the high ticket price and still managed to get a worldwide audience to sign up. You’re probably wondering: how does one replicate $10,000 worth of in-person value in an online experience? Join the club. This is the nut every event organizer will now try to crack. 

Thousands of in-person gatherings across Canada have been postponed to 2021 or cancelled altogether or a version of it moved online. It seems not a day goes by when we don’t hear yet another gathering changing date or format. According to Eventbrite’s 2020 Event Trends Report, 83 percent of Canadian event planners host non-profit, community, or educational events, and 52 percent of Canadian event planners said that facility rental is a top event cost. However, gatherings are, in many ways, the lifeblood of the social impact world

Before the pandemic, organizations used physical gatherings to deliver services, raise funds, conduct focus groups, host AGMs, discuss advocacy, explore public policy, welcome newcomers and new citizens, train and upskill professionals, inspire youth, consult citizens, and much more. 

Even with many parts of the country slowly re-opening, in-person gatherings might be out of the question until at least 2021. Some gatherings may never come back to being in-person. Non-essential business travel is now seen as risky, time-consuming, and costly. 

What now?

While some of the ideas in TED Talks leave one in wonder, inevitably, my brain gets dampened by a rapid-fire succession of painstakingly rehearsed, mechanical talks on the red circle on stage, where speakers pour their hearts out to win internet fans, book contracts, and champions to their causes

What I’ve come to realize however is that the ideas were only ever a part of the equation. Crafting an experience that can surprise and delight is what matters — whether you’re at a table with Bill Gates at the TED flagship event or at home on your couch with your family, huddled around a laptop with a bucket of popcorn. 

I don’t have all the answers on what it takes to surprise and delight but I am on the quest like you. What I do know is that my most memorable gatherings have done two things for me: smash barriers and stir me up on the inside. 

Smashing barriers, for me, is about connecting people across unnatural boundaries. In my mind, that’s how you make silos between roles, backgrounds, and disciplines disappear. The program of this year’s TED flagship gathering was full of after-hours opportunities for attendees to connect with speakers, and each other, remotely, via Zoom group conversations and social gatherings. TED also offered five-minute intellectual “speed dates,” pairing people with algorithmically not-so-likeminded TED-sters for a quick hello. For both event curators and participants, however, this means embracing the notion that people on the outside have something to offer. 

You know that feeling you have when you discover what you believe or know is outdated? Or when something you’ve done was right all along but couldn’t realize why? Or when you have that a-ha moment? These realizations stir me up on the inside — sometimes in a good comfortable way, but many times in a good uncomfortable way. And the more times the latter happens, the more I know I’m better for it. Watching Darren Walker, President of the Ford Foundation talk about disrupting philanthropy to respond to the crisis stirred me up, so did watching Michelle Greene, President of the Long-Term Stock Exchange talk about a bold new vision for markets, and watching Dr. Phillip Atiba Goff, CEO of Center for Policing Equity talk about reimagining police departments and what public safety should mean today. All this from watching only about 20 percent of the TED 2020 talks (most of the program is now available online).

But still, in order to surprise and delight in this new era, there are some questions that linger: How do you recreate hugs? That feeling of seeing an old colleague? The rush of a new friendship? The smells of fresh fruit? The beat of live music? The selfie that tells the world that you’re there?

The world of gatherings is transforming in significant ways post-pandemic — from the experience to the jobs involved. It’s time to take a closer look at the changes and where we go from here.

Vinod Rajasekaran

Publisher & CEO

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