In recent years, academic conferences and seminars have steadily drifted away from their original purpose...
THINK PAD
In recent years, academic conferences and seminars have steadily drifted away from their original purpose. What was once a space for learning, debate, and the genuine exchange of ideas has increasingly turned into exercises in formality and public display. The focus is no longer on what is being discussed, but on what can be shown. Stages are decorated with backdrops, banners are prominently placed, and photographs are taken with precision, all to be shared across social media platforms as proof that something important happened.
Today, the success of a conference is often measured not by the quality of its conversations, but by the volume of its online presence. The number of pictures uploaded, the reach of posts, and the visibility of hashtags matter more than whether the attendees actually gained something meaningful from the event. Organisers, speakers, and attendees all become participants in this cycle of performance. The louder and more polished the online display, the more successful the event is perceived to be, even if the audience leaves disengaged or uninspired, which it often does.
This growing obsession with visibility prioritises appearance over impact. A seminar that trends on social media is quickly labelled relevant and effective, while one that quietly deepens understanding or sparks thoughtful discussion is easily overlooked. Intellectual engagement becomes secondary to documentation. This dynamic also depends on who is speaking. A senior politician, a seasoned industry expert, or a published author is often used to lure the public and fill seats, while intellectually capable but less well-known individuals may not even be given five minutes to speak because, in the organisers’ view, “they do not sell the show.”
Panels are arranged, applause is encouraged, and attendance is recorded, yet little room is left for genuine reflection or serious questioning. In educational institutions, students – often compelled to attend – sit through sessions that feel disconnected from their academic needs or interests. Generation Z, in particular, is unlikely to remain engaged even for a few minutes if the speaker’s tone or delivery does not match their expectations.
What is most troubling is what this performative model obscures. Writers, scholars, and researchers who devote years to rigorous research, curriculum development, and building meaningful industry linkages often go unrecognised simply because their work lacks visibility. Their efforts are gradual, demanding, and seldom visually appealing. They yield depth rather than instant results, and for that reason, they sit uneasily within a social media–driven culture that equates success with spectacle. Even more concerning is that those most willing to make a real impact are often the least heard.
Academics who prioritise substance over spectacle, who care deeply about learning outcomes rather than optics, frequently find themselves sidelined. Their voices are quieter not because they lack insight, but because they choose depth over display.
This culture also sends the wrong message to the youth. It teaches them that showing up matters more than engaging, that appearances outweigh effort, and that documentation is more valuable than understanding. If academic institutions wish to restore the true value of conferences and seminars, they must move beyond this fixation on performance. Fewer events, organised with clear purpose and genuine intent, would serve students and faculty far better than a crowded calendar of compulsory appearances. Learning cannot be forced, nor can intellectual curiosity be manufactured for the camera. It grows only when space is created for honest dialogue, thoughtful engagement, and work that values impact over visibility.
