Curators of experiences

Today, two seemingly unrelated matters occupied my thoughts. First, a colleague for whom I have tremendous respect asked me for my thoughts on a site visit programme for a group of event organisers from Northern Europe. The programme was curated by local hosts from a Central European destination. It was refined, well-structured and undoubtedly conceived with the best intentions.

I was delighted to peruse the text, adding a few honest comments and constructive suggestions along the way. A few hours later, I read a post by Julius Solaris. His thesis was simple but far-reaching: artificial intelligence will soon take over a significant part of the decision-making involved in selecting destinations and event venues (venue finding). AI will compare offers, analyse thousands of data points, assess accessibility, price, capacities, and references, and suggest the optimal solutions in the blink of an eye. That will considerably alter the role of classic venue finders. Their selling point revolves around searching, collecting offers and forwarding information, yet they will struggle to justify their purpose. In contrast, AI will do the same task rapidly, more cheaply, and often more thoroughly. What is more, it will be adept at crafting similarly decent programmes in a short amount of time.

Yet decent will no longer cut it. Human intelligence will prevail over AI in areas where most algorithms still fail: understanding context, event dramaturgy, and adding unexpected sparks, surprises, and moments of awe to the event.

In a flood of information, artificial intelligence most often overlooks these tiny, yet paramount details. The future will thus not belong to those seeking venues, but to those who know how to create a story from a space and curate experiences from programmes.

Here is where I see the most salient challenge of generic programmes for site visits and excursions. If a programme comprises only a sequence of visits to hotels, conference halls, landmarks and the obligatory lunch, almost anyone can prepare it today. AI will probably do it faster and better today.

What makes an event organiser indispensable is not merely the skill of squeezing dozens of venues into a programme; it is their ability to curate it.

An event organiser must know how to create a dramaturgical arc and unearth truly memorable local stories. They must know how to access people and places that cannot be found in the top 10 Google search results. Above all, they must know how to curate moments that will leave attendees saying “that was unexpected” at the end.

In an epoch of artificial intelligence, AI genericity is not just boring. It is becoming dangerous, particularly in the hands of industry beginners who lack the experience, breadth, and critical judgement to distinguish between a likeable programme and a truly quality, experience-driven programme.

AI’s greatest danger is not in creating dull programmes. Those can be easily spotted and thrown out. The real peril is more covert – AI will curate programmes that will do. They will be just coherent, apt, and likeable enough to sift through. When you see such a programme, nothing stands out or feels out of context. Herein lies the issue. Once “good enough” becomes the standard, we slowly give up on the ambition for originality. We begin to forget what a programme with character, ideas and bravery looks like. We get everything that should work, yet nothing that we would memorise.

It becomes even more dangerous still when we do not promote an event but an entire destination or country. That is no longer about a poor selection of the venue or a somewhat dull programme. We are sending out an image of the country to the world, and that image can be generic, distorted, and lacking any sense of self-identity.

The responsibility is thus significantly greater, especially when we put venues in the limelight that are not the best facets of the destination but rather a sort of compromise. Some venues are part of the experience, but others, truth be told, would be better left hidden.

To practice, I took a close look at the programme. Needless to say, I used AI to help me with this scientific research task. Below is a breakdown of the dramaturgy of the programme they prepared for guests from Northern Europe, and where it falls short of the story it should tell:

Total programme time: approximately 22 hours (from arrival to departure, without overnight stays and breakfast)

Let me make it very clear: this is not a mediocre programme. Au contraire, by today’s standards, it is thoughtfully made. The logistics are effective, the expert content is rich, and the selection of venues is apt and representative. Yet, the programme also hides a paradox. Once I let AI disseminate the content, one thing became clear that event organisers often overlook. A significant part is dedicated to knowledge transfer, but relatively little time is spent on creating experiences that would resonate with attendees longer. I thus ask myself: what are attendees really doing at site visits? Ten years ago, the answer was straightforward. They came to see the event halls, visit the hotels, review the logistics, and find out whether the destination, up close, matches the photos, brochures, and sales presentations.

Back then, a site visit was often the only way to get reliable data. Today, however, information is no longer a precious commodity.

In a matter of seconds, AI can prepare a detailed comparison of all conference centres scattered in a destination. It knows their capacities, technical equipment, sustainability certifications, references, accessibility, approximate pricing, and even past client reviews. Hence, what is the real added value of another classic site visit to a conference hall? Do we need yet another PPT presentation about a venue and its capacities that any attendee can look up online before arrival? Or should a site visit offer something that AI cannot? Perhaps a chat with the organiser of a congress who had to change the entire event’s logistics overnight due to a snowstorm? Perhaps the programme could also include a meeting with a scientist who brought a key international congress to the city. Attendees could be offered a behind-the-scenes glimpse of a festival, becoming familiar not only with the results but also with the processes, mistakes, and improvisations that bring the event to life. Why not include lunch with a local entrepreneur who knows the destination like the back of his hand, better than any brochure?

Unforgettable, serendipitous meetings that are not in the programme and stories that cannot be found on Google matter. That should be the added value of a site visit: not accessing information, but understanding the context, people, and experiences that cannot be transferred ONLINE.

Most destinations show what they have, but the best ones show who they are.

This is a core difference. A destination should not be reduced to a conference centre, landmark or hotel. A destination is the feeling you carry back home, and if event organisers fail to create that feeling, the same programme can fit any European city. Only the logos change in presentations.

So, how would I tackle such a programme? Most of all, I would flip the logic behind site visits, which have been planned for decades. I would dedicate less time to showing infrastructure and more time to creating reasons for guests to fall in love with the destination.

I would put experiences first, not as a welcome break between two site visits, but as the main reason for guests to understand the destination. We don’t remember destinations for technical data, but for people, stories, flavours, energy and the feelings they evoke.

The second pillar of my programme would be talks. Rather than treating PPT presentations as the focus, I would prioritise meeting the people who help co-create the destination: event organisers, scientists, entrepreneurs, artists and local ambassadors. Their stories tell more than any sales brochure.

Site visits would represent only a tenth of the programme.

I would showcase only the most representative spaces or special venues. Instead of listing technical specifications, I would offer a glimpse into the backgrounds of the people and the stories that make these venues shine. I would dedicate considerably more time to downtime and leisure. This is not lost time, but the chance for attendees to visit the destination on their own. It is in the spontaneous moments, perhaps a coffee on the city square, a chat.

I would not measure the success of such a programme by the number of hotel rooms or conference halls visited, but by the number of new ideas, talks and genuine connections generated at the event. Because destinations don’t sell halls, they sell feelings. This feeling arises when a guest not only visits a destination for a few hours but also becomes part of its story, leaving with it.

In the next few years, artificial intelligence will know how to prepare a seemingly perfect site visit. It will compare venues, optimise logistics, calculate the carbon footprint, review flight connections, and create a perfect schedule.

But it will not instil trust or pique curiosity. AI will not feel the energy of a property or make guests feel they were part of the destination’s story for a few days. That is why the future belongs not to those who are best at using AI, but to those who are best at curating and hosting.

If I were to prepare a site visit today, I would not start with the question: Which venues should we show them? I would start with the question: what do we want the attendees to think on their flight home?

If they leave thinking that we have a beautiful conference hall and a modern hotel, the site visit was a missed opportunity. If they leave thinking they understood the people, vibe and character of the destination, then the site visit was not just a visit, but an experience.

When all of us begin to use AI tools, information will become almost pro bono. Our competitive advantage will be something very old-fashioned: curiosity, empathy, bravery and the competence to take a guest where no algorithm can.

The best site visits in the future will not be those where event organisers show the most. The best ones will be where attendees discover the most.

By the way, when I read my draft again, I realised that I had already written about most of these principles in 2017, when AI was not a part of our daily discussion. The only difference is that I gave recommendations for a better site visit back then. Today, I am laying out the conditions for a successful site visit.

If you wish to learn how we approached site visits a decade ago, you are invited to read the article “How to organise the perfect MICE Press Trip” here. You might be surprised how relevant it remains.