How They Spoiled the Conference Experience for Me
Conferences, by their very essence, are supposed to be platforms where professionals and researchers converge to share knowledge, exchange ideas, and learn from experts. They are meant to inspire intellectual stimulation, foster meaningful discussions, and create lifelong connections. A well-organized conference can leave an indelible impact on participants, shaping their careers and perspectives.
I still fondly remember attending the International Society for Evidence-Based Health Care conference in New Delhi, back in 2011 or 2012 (the exact year escapes me). That event was monumental. Stalwarts like Gordon Guyatt and Paul Glasziou presented their groundbreaking work in evidence-based practice. To my immense delight, I presented my paper immediately after Paul Glasziou—an experience so surreal that it still gives me goosebumps. What truly stood out was the serious engagement in discussions. Everyone, including the towering intellectuals, actively listened to others' work and provided insightful feedback. It was everything a conference should aspire to be: thought-provoking, collegial, and inspiring.
Now, fast-forward to the current scenario in Indian physiotherapy conferences, and the contrast couldn’t be starker. The intellectual fervor has been replaced by a circus of pomp and shallow theatrics. Let’s dissect the chaos:
Too Many Conferences, Too Little Substance
There are now more physiotherapy conferences than meaningful discussions at these conferences. While diversity in themes and opportunities is a good thing, the focus has shifted entirely from quality to quantity. These events lack focus, people seem to talk about anything and everything. Artificial intelligence, for example, has become the new favorite buzzword, with fancy titles like "Navigating This" and "Navigating That," yet without any meaningful context or depth. I often wonder how people manage to speak so confidently about topics they barely understand. And now, with tools like ChatGPT at their disposal, the bar for originality and expertise seems to have been lowered even further. Everyone is organizing something, but hardly anyone is asking if these events serve their fundamental purpose.
The “Experts” and Their Flexible Definitions
Who qualifies as an “expert” these days? Apparently, the bar is as low as the ocean floor. Selections are often based on mutual contacts or, worse, on the number of registrations a person can bring to the table. Expertise? Credentials? Relevant experience? Who cares when you have a good social network and position of power and influence?
All Papers and Posters Accepted—Literally
Here’s the deal: submit a paper or a poster, and congratulations! It’s accepted. No questions asked, no scrutiny applied. I’m convinced a blank sheet with the title "Untitled" would make it through. This practice not only undermines genuine efforts but also makes the so-called “presentation opportunities” meaningless. Why? Because the primary criterion for acceptance isn’t the value or significance of the work—it’s the guarantee of a confirmed registration. That’s right, your paper gets accepted not because it adds intellectual value, but because it ensures your payment is processed.
But the disappointment doesn’t end there. The moderators or judges for these presentations often lack the understanding or expertise required for meaningful engagement. Instead of facilitating insightful discussions, they end up asking silly, irrelevant questions. I’ve seen many students who prepared diligently, put their heart and soul into their presentations, only to be met with shallow queries and disengaged moderators. The frustration and disappointment on their faces are hard to forget. And what criteria are used to select these judges? You guessed it—the same flimsy, contact-based approach.
Awards and Prizes—A Sham
Ah, the glorious awards and prizes—handed out as if they were candies at a kid’s birthday party. The less said, the better. Suffice it to say, merit has no seat at this table. If you know, you know.
Photo-Ops Galore
Conferences today seem more like social media content creation hubs. It’s all about Instagram-worthy moments, group selfies, and well-curated hashtags. Post-event chatter revolves not around what people learned but how many likes their photos garnered. If you’re wondering why the discussions lack depth, there’s your answer.
Exploiting Students and Junior Colleagues
One of the most disheartening trends is the blatant exploitation of students and junior professionals. Registration fees are exorbitant, often leaving participants wondering if they’re funding the organizers’ post-event vacations. Worse, attendance is often forced.
What Can We Do?
I’m aware that writing about this may not bring immediate change. Some might even argue it’s futile. But I choose not to remain silent. And I urge my colleagues to do the same—not through mere words but by refusing to participate in this charade. Let’s stop encouraging mediocrity by showing up or staying silent. We, as professionals, need to take collective responsibility to change this scenario.
Here’s the checklist for change:
Stop exploiting students and junior colleagues with exorbitant fees.
Stop forcing attendance through coercion or subtle threats.
Create rigorous standards for paper and poster acceptance.
Choose experts based on merit, not networking prowess.
Ensure awards and recognitions are based on genuine accomplishments.
Refocus on learning and intellectual growth rather than photo-ops.
Conferences should be spaces where knowledge flourishes, not where egos and Instagram feeds dominate. It’s high time we stopped treating these events as carnivals and started treating them as the serious academic platforms they’re meant to be.