How to... create inclusive meetings in seven steps
If you want people to talk to each other, start by turning down the music, says experienced event designer Claus Raasted...
You’d think I’d be exactly the wrong person to write this article.
I’m a middle-aged white guy from a rich country. I’m able-bodied, cis-hetero and while my better half thinks I’m annoying and weird, I can’t really claim to be truly neurodiverse. To top it off, I’m an extrovert and was raised in a loving and supportive environment.
I tick about as few ‘diversity markers’ as you can, and even my privilege has privileges. But there’s a reason that overshadows all of this and perhaps makes me the right person to write this, after all.
Experiences
I’ve spent the better part of three decades in the experience design space and have more than 1,000 events under my belt. I’ve created business conferences and art festivals. I’ve designed onboarding procedures and website interfaces. I’ve taught design thinking and mentored event professionals. Throughout it all, whether working with disabled children in wheelchairs or overachieving consultants, my focus has always been on the same thing: ‘How do we create experiences that make people more likely to walk away with the feelings, knowledge and memories that we’d like them to walk away with?’
If it sounds simple it’s because it is. And yet, all it takes is one look at the world around us, and you’ll notice a thousand places where it seems this simple principle got lost somewhere along the way.
Part of it is because we humans are idiots. Yes, that includes me. But a big part is because we tend to look for solutions in the wrong places. So, here are seven tips on how to make your events more inclusive.
Claus Raasted
Claus Raasted
1: Don’t look for complex solutions, when simple ones are available
Imagine you’re at a conference, and you’re having trouble catching people’s names. Sure, you could just look at their name tag, but the text is small and the name tag is overflowing with titles, QR codes, sponsor logos and event branding. So you give up and hope you can get through the conversation without them noticing you don’t have a clue about what their name is.
An easy solution? Just have bigger name tags and a bigger font size. It doesn’t have to be harder than that. And yet, how many conferences have oversized name tags and avoid this problem? Virtually none, because it feels like an overly simple solution.
Advice: Look at your event and some of the issues you face. Which of these have simple solutions?
2: Look further up the design chain - you’ll likely find the root cause
I have been to many evening events. They all have the same goal: getting people to connect and talk. They also generally feature loud music. The last time I checked, loud music was great for dancing and for creating a party feeling, but less good for conversation.
So why does this consistently happen? Before the event planners even start planning that intro event, they’re told that it will come in the form of a party with loud music. Or, in the words of the behavioural economics guru Rory Sutherland, “The moment you’re given the wine list, it’s game over for the whiskey drinkers.”
If you want to fix a lot of the annoying stuff at your events (like loud music during an event meant for networking) then look further up the design chain. That’s where the change needs to happen.
3: Don’t ask people if they like your event - ask them what they’d improve
But only when you actually want to know! Don’t feel bad about wanting someone to compliment your event. Just be aware that when you ask somebody “So, did you like the event I organised (and poured my life, soul and sanity into)?”, they are - 95 per cent of the time - going to say something nice, generic and empty.
If they say “I really loved how you used the different colour chandeliers as signage in the ballroom!”, then that’s a compliment you can trust. If they say “It was good”, odds are they’d change 10 things in a heartbeat.
So if you want to get people’s honest opinions, don’t ask them if they like what you do. Ask them how they’d make it better. Because only the lonely few idiots like me will answer the “Did you like it?” question truthfully. Ask them differently.
Photo by Ludovic Migneault on Unsplash
Photo by Ludovic Migneault on Unsplash
4: Accept that people love things even when they’re badly designed
I confess it. I am a huge geek when it comes to table design. I can pontificate at length about the merits of the five-person round table vs the six-person rectangular one, and I will happily discuss when a 75cm by 120cm table is better than an 80cm by 200cm one and vice versa.
But even people who are less nerdy about tables than me can tell you that the classic restaurant long table setup is done that way for the sake of more guests per square metre and not because it makes for better conversation spaces. They’re terrible for when someone needs to go to the toilet and they can be hell for servers too.
So whenever you find something that could be improved at your event, remind yourself that just because it might be (objectively) worse, there might still be people who love it - and if you don’t recognise and appreciate that, you’ll needlessly create enemies for yourself when you suggest change.
5: Your participants are a resource - if you allow them to be
Some years back I was doing an event at a castle, and I had a friend in a wheelchair ask if she’d have a good time if she came. I was in doubt and said that honestly, I wasn’t sure - there were plenty of stairs, no elevators and no organisers available to help her.
Then she asked some other friends who were going already, and they said “Oh, sure! You should go! It’ll be no problem!”, but when I heard that I still had my doubts.
I was put to shame. Whenever she needed to go from one level to another, random participants would assist her. Whenever she needed to go outside for a lengthy stroll, somebody would make it happen. She never made it to the tower but ended up having a blast even so.
6: It’s not always about neurodiversity - but it’s always about people
For many of the events I run, we have a dedicated quiet room. Pillows, blankets, dim lights, and most importantly peace and quiet. This space isn’t for introverts. It’s not for people who have anxiety. It’s not for people with diagnoses or conditions or trauma or challenges.
The quiet room is for people who want to use the quiet room. We don’t ask them why they need a quiet room - we just ensure one is available. It’s not about being a psychologist. It’s about being an event organiser trying to help participants where possible.
7: You can’t fight all the battles at once - and that’s ok
“So you’ve got a fully vegan menu and gender pronoun badges, but you don’t sort your trash properly! What kind of sh*t show is this?”
I’ll tell you what kind it probably is. The kind of sh*t show where the organisers are stressed out, overworked, and trying their best to deal with a thousand micro-issues, even as more keep popping up.
No matter what we do, we end up making things easy for some and hard for others. Maybe it’s non-English speakers. Maybe it’s people over 60. Maybe it’s the less-well educated. No matter how inclusive we make something, there’ll always be those who are outside.
This doesn’t mean we should just give up and do nothing. But trying to create truly inclusive events is like trying to be a good person. It’s incredibly hard, but even if we know we’ll probably never succeed fully, we can still give it our best shot.
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