What We Will Lose If We Cancel Conferences

Cancel Conference Culture!

Academic conferences are on the decline. And like so many institutions, Fred’s University is considering permanently canceling its annual Psychology conference after 146 years of gatherings and two years of virtual meetings.

The demise of academic conferences has been a long time coming followed by a sharp fall off a financial cliff.

Introverts rejoice! After all the hand-wringing and eulogies to a culture of clubby elitism and extramarital affairs, I say good riddance.

Here Is What We Will Lose When We End Conferences Forever

Pros

1. 1. 1. I will never have to try to avoid being cornered by Creepy Carl and endure his snarky comments on my publications or lack of them. I will never have to field public questions from Creepy Carl on my presentation where he refers to my “lady science” or “token research.” Ha ha ha.
      2. I will never have to field calls from the babysitter, doctor, teacher, coach or birthday-party-mom from a bathroom at the conference while my husband takes care of the kids back home.
      3. I will never have to take the stairs from the 11th floor of my hotel rather than get in the elevator with Creepy Carl, who always seems to appear the minute I leave my room.
      4. I will never have to watch my married Department Head as he chooses a fresh new graduate student to bring back to his hotel room. Nor will I have to listen to Carl watch and joke about “Hunting Season.” Ha ha ha.
      5. I will never get to be part of a committee conducting a job interview sitting on the same bed where the night before the married Department Head had sex with a new graduate student.
      6. I will never have to watch my Frenemy laugh at Carl’s jokes about ‘Lady Science” in the hotel room interview and agree “you won’t be canceled, Carl.” Ha ha ha.
      7. I will never get high on free samples from Big Pharma and pass out in my hotel room, missing the Department Head’s talk and have Carl point out my absence to my Frenemy later.
      8. I will never have to explain to my graduate students why they should lose the fast food shifts they use to pay off their crippling student debt to attend an expensive conference where the only people listening to their sad presentations are their three other graduate student friends who are also losing their fast food wages.
      9. I will never have to cry in the handicapped bathroom after I watch my graduate student, who sacrificed needed wages, be treated with disrespect at a conference whose true agenda is to reinforce the insider white male social ties that hold the keys to professional power in academia.
      10. I will never have to realize that I am monopolizing the only handicapped bathroom on the entire exhibit floor while I indulge my “emotional handicap” and someone in a wheelchair is waiting outside

Cons

1. 1. 1. I will miss the All You Can Eat Shrimp Buffet, the one “free event” still sponsored by a pricey conference that has become less and less luxe as it is forced to include more and more people outside the Preppy Handshake Club of Old Academia.
      2. I will miss the All You Can Pop secret Pharma Buffet that pays for it all, especially the Revenue Pharma miracle drug from the Sicker family, Poxycodone.
      3. I will miss my chance to use the smart retorts I spent the last year planning for Carl, my Department Head, my pediatrician and my Frenemy. And most of all I will miss the chance to spike Carl’s drink with a freebie Poxy right before his introduction to the Department Chair’s keynote panel and joke about it on a screenshotted text stream with my Frenemy. They do say revenge is best served at an All You Can Eat Buffet.
      4. As more women entered the profession, for the first time men were often left with the childcare that was the hidden expense to women of conference culture all along. Conferences used to be a break for male academics, and a chance to cheat. For a brief moment, women looked like they might take the same advantages. There were articles about “Me Time for Moms” on the conference circuit and a general celebration that women could be as crappy as men. That was an illusion, and it’s over. Bottoms up! I’m having a margarita in my locked bathroom at home while Zooming the final conference during my kids’ virtual homeschool day!
      5. Those tiny bottles of hotel shampoo and itty bitty bars of soap I use to deodorize my husband’s running shoes that belong in the toxic landfill of the past. Even though I campaigned against all that environmental conference waste, I have my souvenir collection right here in my bathroom with me. I plan to use the shower cap as I wash away the feeling of shame and moral injury of being part of an academic grift. No, Carl, my camera is off. Ha ha ha.

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