A recent industry opinion piece went so far as to describe people holding meetings outside official conference venues as “parasites.” This has stuck in my head, and several other industry peers have brought this up in conversation. We feel, the problem isn’t opportunists trying to break in — it’s a system that has priced its own talent out.
An Industry on the Edge
According to Bectu, 68% of UK film and TV workers were unemployed in early 2024, with more than half still out of work a year later. Freelancers are struggling, indie producers are folding, and the mid-tier of the industry — the space where the next generation should be developing in the new content economy, are being sidelined.
Yet the business of conferences and markets continues to thrive. I’ve lost count of how many there are, attending them could be a full time job. Badges at multi day events routinely cost over £1,000 not including travel or accommodation. In the middle of an employment crisis, the cost of entry to the conversation has never been higher.
The Economics of Exclusion
Events are expensive to stage. Venues in central London or Cannes don’t come cheap. Organisers need to cover costs, and many do a good job of delivering slick, professional gatherings, I appreciate this.
However, the cost of putting on an event doesn’t justify an ecosystem that rewards only those who can afford it. The outcome is predictable: the same big companies dominate the rooms, the same people appear on stage, the same ideas circulate, and very rarely do the big corporates ever say anything that surprising or outside the public domain. The result is the disappearance of diverse thought and experience.
And behind the scenes, a troubling pattern persists. Speakers are not paid. Others including myself have been promised an entry badge in exchange for help securing panellists or sponsors, only for those promises to evaporate. Organisations supporting under-represented or low-income creatives often find their requests for access simply ignored, again something I have first hand knowledge of. People feel like they have to participate in order not to miss out- but I am not sure that’s really the case.
The Human Cost
Exclusion isn’t just elitist — it’s wasteful. The people gathering in cafés, hotel lobbies and beaches outside the badge zones aren’t “parasites.” They’re the creative core of the business, locked out by price and circumstance. And, I have no doubt that the conversations that happen in those cafes and bars are often more insightful than those on stage.
The irony is that this exclusion hurts the very thing the industry claims to celebrate: originality. If only those with expense accounts can attend, network and pitch, we end up with a creative monoculture — safe ideas, familiar faces, and diminishing innovation.
Glimmers of Hope
There are several challenger events doing it differently. Some offer discounted passes for freelancers, bursaries for under-represented talent, or free entry for charities and educational organisations. Others build genuine networking spaces that don’t require a four-figure badge. These models prove that inclusion and commercial viability can coexist — it’s a matter of will, not impossibility.
A Call for Balance
Yes, events cost money. But so does the loss of creativity.
If the industry wants to thrive, it needs to find equilibrium between commercial sustainability and social responsibility. Tiered pricing, fair speaker compensation and transparent access schemes aren’t radical ideas — they’re common sense.
We don’t need fewer conversations. We need more open ones. Because creativity doesn’t flourish behind £1000+ tickets, it flourishes when the doors are open to everyone.
Views are entirely my own opinion and are not representative of any of my clients.
“The Cost of Exclusion”: Events have a price tag many can’t afford
