Sancta simplicitas or holy innocence

One of the most recurring phenomena in the events industry is sancta simplicitas, or holy innocence: naive, uncritical, gullible, and often ignorant commentary on our industry. It often appears in the conviction that everyone knows everything about event organising. This dangerous thinking is not as harmless as it seems, as it can lead to flawed planning, wrong decisions, and, ultimately, poor, ineffective, or even harmful outcomes.

Even more problematic is the situation in which individuals, whether deliberately or out of ignorance, fail to distinguish among the symbolic, economic, and regenerative capital generated by the events industry. Such misunderstandings often reduce the value of events to catering, logistics, costs, and Instagrammable settings, rather than seeing events as spaces to build trust, share know-how, establish new ties, make changes, and foster positive change in the long run.

It is necessary to first define each type of capital.

SYMBOLIC CAPITAL is not generated by every event. It creates reputation, prestige, status, trust, credibility and a sense of belonging. Such events allow attendees, partners and event organisers access to influential people, relevant communities and networks. Their advantage lies not only in the programme or logistical execution, but also in what the event represents. Symbolic capital is constructed through reputation, high-quality content, speaker selection, community power, networking, and an event’s ability to serve as a reference case within its environment. You can probably name some examples by heart without difficulty. Such events can be easily spotted thanks to their longevity. An event that has existed and survived for twenty, thirty, or more years is most often neither a fad nor the product of excellent marketing. Its sustained relevance shows that it has managed to instil trust, build a healthy reputation and recognisable identity, the key components of symbolic capital.

Still, longevity, in and of itself, is not a guarantee of quality but a potent indicator that an event creates value for its stakeholders, prompting them to return again. In that sense, such an event hides the creative core of the events industry.

An additional facet of symbolic capital
Symbolic capital functions similarly to the reputation of an individual or brand. Once a reputation has been built and anchored, it starts to create new opportunities. People want to attend the event simply because other influential individuals are participating. Speakers want to give a keynote presentation because the event will enhance their credibility. Partners want to collaborate to improve their reputation. Destinations want to host the event because it strengthens their recognisability. In this sense, symbolic capital functions as a magnet. Its effect may not be directly financial, but it often creates the conditions for economic and social capital to be generated. Yet, without symbolic capital, it is challenging to invite and persuade the finest speakers, stakeholders, media representatives, or strategic partners to attend. Hence, symbolic capital is very often the invisible force separating an average event from a meeting with true impact. Pierre Bourdieu, who was the first to define and expound on the concept of symbolic capital systematically, saw it as a form of social recognition, prestige and legitimacy. In the event industry, this is a type of capital that turns some events into institutions, while others remain mere one-time occurrences.

The easiest way to test symbolic capital is to ask: would people want to be part of the event even if they did not know what this year’s programme would be like? If the answer is affirmative, the event likely has an enviable amount of symbolic capital.

ECONOMIC CAPITAL is generated by most events. Everything that can be measured, organised, counted and, ultimately, monetised falls under this category: services, staff, logistics, execution, infrastructure, tech support, accommodation, catering, transfers and production. This is the most tangible part of the events industry. It is due to its economic capital that the events industry is often regarded as a branch of tourism or even as a service industry. Economic capital encompasses overnight stays, direct and indirect impacts, multiplicative effects, expenditures, hotel occupancy, and financial flows that an event triggers in a destination. Moreover, this category includes data on attendees’ expenditures, which are typically higher for business guests than for tourists. Yet, despite being the easiest to measure, economic capital usually never tells the whole story. It portrays the economic side of an event, but often omits its reputation, impact, meaning or long-term value.

REGENERATIVE OR SOCIAL CAPITAL is a more abstract category. It is based on the premise that an event leaves a destination, community, or individuals in a better state than before. This transformative function of events is the next evolutionary step in sustainability. It is no longer enough for an event to reduce its negative impact. Instead, the key question is what remains after the event: more knowledge, improved trust, stronger communities, new partnerships, better relationships, concrete changes and long-term value. Regenerative capital drives social capital and real value. Instead of superficial networking, it builds solid partnerships. Rather than one-time meetings, it encourages in-depth business talks. Instead of activities, it creates results, takes illusory value, and turns it into tangible capital. With this kind of capital, the events industry can move from event organising to creating positive changes.

This brings us to a key dilemma: should we evaluate events based on the numbers they create, the reputation they bring, or the positive changes they leave behind?

If we measure economic capital alone, we quickly overlook its social component. But if we lean on symbolic capital, we often sound elitist, self-centred, and exude hauteur. Finally, if we speak only of regenerative capital, we may be asked how to measure and credibly prove it.

The real dilemma is thus not which form of capital is most salient, but how to build the right balance among all three categories. The most successful events foster tangible economic effects, build reputation, and leave measurable positive changes behind.

I believe all this sounds rather straightforward and self-explanatory. The problem, however, is when theory is compared with practice. If the model of the three types of capital is so convincing, why is there a sea of events that fail to create even a single type of capital? Why do so many events create noise, but little value? Why do some still seem successful on the outside, despite not leaving any sustainable trace?

There are even more questions to be answered – who actually creates the prestige of an event? The event itself or the people attending it? Who borrows their reputation to whom? Do world-class speakers raise the reputation of an event, or does an event’s reputation increase their credibility? Not least: how to separate real value from illusory value?

Illusory value occurs when an event exudes the aura of success, influence, and importance without producing the corresponding amount of symbolic, economic, or regenerative capital. This is the difference between how an event looks and what value it actually creates. In an era of social media, likeable photos, impressive stages and statistics blown out of proportion, this difference is often larger than we dare admit.

Below is a breakdown of what illusory value means and why it has become one of the biggest pitfalls in the modern events industry.

Five recurring samples are prevalent with illusory event value:

• Packed event halls without measurable impact: high attendance is a key indicator, but it is not proof of long-term value alone.
• Recognised speakers without relevant content: a familiar name increases interest, but is no replacement for a curated programme.
• Networking without further follow-up: the number of new contacts does not entail new partnerships, business deals or future collaborations.
• Economic effects without development traces: overnight stays and expenditure matter, but they do not signal what remains to the community after the event ends.
• Sustainability as a communication add-on: taking individual “green” measures does not guarantee that the event has a sustainability or regenerative strategy.

Illusory value oozes the impression of success. Real value, though, is shown much later: what remains after the event, who the event helped, what perspectives it shifted and what kind of capital it generated.

We live in a time when almost every event seems professional, resounding and the spitting image of success. But image alone is no longer enough. Polished photos, full halls, resounding names, peerless production and likeable posts on social media can generate attention, but they cannot replace real value.

The events industry will thus need to answer a simple, but key question: do we create events that only look good or events that actually change something?

Now, we get to the essence of the Unicorn Awards competition. It does not seek to be executed perfectly, but to leave a real, convincing legacy. The competition does not award events with polished production values, but rather those that create measurable value, leave a lasting trace, and demonstrate their impact. It is not only about perfect execution but also about a perfect legacy.

I look forward to this year’s edition. Judging by the soaring demand, autumn will bring a wide range of projects, approaches and novel formats that will raise new questions about the industry’s future. Most of all, I look forward to seeing which events will go beyond good execution to show something more: a clear purpose, measurable impact, and a legacy that lingers long after a venue’s lights go dim.

If you wish to explore more about the Unicorn Awards, the categories, evaluation criteria and entry process, head over to the competition’s website. Perhaps this year’s projects will help us answer the question I posed at the beginning: what remains after an event concludes?