Category: History

  • Making a connection

    Making a connection

    In Leonard E. Read’s charming story of the Fifties I, Pencil: My Family Tree, the author makes the clear point that nobody knows how to make a modern pencil. Today we inhabit a world that has long since left the realm of craft and solo endeavour for the joys of communal production. 

    Industrialisation in the 19th century put community and the development of a collaborative marketplace at the forefront of human achievement, a process described by Read as “the spontaneous configuration of creative human energies.” 

    In this new world it no longer mattered what you knew but who, and how they could help you to achieve your goals.

    Writer and journalist Matt Ridley, author of books including The Origins of Virtue and 2010’s The Rational Optimist: How Prosperity Evolves, took Read’s idea and indirectly explained why it applies to the exhibition industry.

    “Who knows how to make a computer mouse? Nobody. Literally; nobody,” he explained to the crowd at TedGlobal in Oxford, UK, during his intriguingly named presentation ‘When Ideas Have Sex’. “There is nobody on this planet who knows how to make a computer mouse. The president of the computer mouse company doesn’t know; he just knows how to run a company. The man on the assembly line doesn’t know, because he doesn’t know how to drill an oil well to extract the oil to make plastic.

    “We all know little bits but none of us knows the whole. What we’ve done in human society, through exchange and specialisation, is created a way to do things that we don’t even understand,” he says. “This is not the same with language. With language we have to transfer ideas that we understand with each other. With technology we can do things that are beyond our capabilities. 

    “We’ve gone beyond the capacity of the human mind to an extraordinary degree,” he said, adding that the debate about whether some racial groups have higher IQs than others is completely irrelevant in this collaborative world. Instead, he argues that what is important to a society is how well people are communicating their ideas and how well they are co-operating; not how clever the individuals within that society are. 

    “We’ve created something called the ‘collective brain’. We’re just the nodes, the neurons, in this brain,” says Ridley. “It’s the interchange of ideas, the meeting and mating of ideas between them that is causing technological progress, incrementally, bit-by-bit, even when bad things happen.” 

    And how better to gather an industry and foment the creation of new products than in the fissile, buzzing environment of an exhibition floor? Every encounter, planned or otherwise, is a step towards facilitating someone’s new idea and – through interaction and the sharing of skills and projects – to enhance the industries the exhibition serves.

    “I am sure that because of the connections people are making and the ability to meet and mate [ideas] as never before, technology will advance and therefore living standards will advance,” says Ridley. “Because through the cloud, through crowd-sourcing, through the bottom-up world we’ve created where not just the elites but everybody is able to have their ideas and make them meet and mate, we are surely accelerating the rate of innovation.” 

    There are of course many forms of forum and congregation that enable the sharing of ideas. And as is prevalent throughout nature, many result in the survival of the fittest. But for every perfectly conceived idea there is also a demand for ideas from the fringes, specialised creations that hold appeal despite lacking more general success. Returning to the nature theme, the world has room for both fast-multiplying rabbits and sexually reluctant pandas, just as the omnipresent and everlasting cockroach may share space with the rare and peculiar platypus.

    Exhibitions and trade shows facilitate this co-existence of ideas and concepts. While exhibitors experience a price differential at most exhibitions depending on the size, position or extravagance of their stand, anybody can take their place on the show floor. This brings benefits to visitors in a way that television or other above-the-line marketing does not. A person exposed to an Audi advert on television is unlikely to check an alternative car simply by chance, but they might do by walking the floors of an exhibition. 

    Some have expressed doubt about the continuing relevance of international trade fairs; as Miladin Šakić, former president of the Belgrade Fair, once put it: “there existed opinions without support, that trade fairs would be overcome and die out as unnecessary institutions”.

    But today nobody is asking ‘why and what for, these trade fairs?’, according to Šakić. “On the contrary, due to the rush of that progress [industrialisation], much space has been created for the activity of trade fairs.” Surely he is right, and the live event medium holds an enduring appeal.

    Šakić gives two components particular to exhibitions and trade shows that nobody and nothing has been able to replace so far. Firstly, trade fairs have remained outstanding places where the results accomplished in any branch of economic activity can be compared and judged peacefully and without prejudice. Secondly, trade fairs have kept their position as “important instances for open dialogue, for the realisation of programmes in the manufacturer-trader-consumer line, and for talks and agreements, again without prejudice, among citizens of various nations.” 

    The latter, Šakić says, means that in a sense, trade fairs effect the role of ambassadors, “bringing people together and in promoting economic, commercial, and other relations between peoples and nations.”

    Exhibiting due care and consideration 

    Of course the benefits of exhibitions are mitigated by several factors, and for uninitiated exhibitors, these events could be seen to present something of a gamble. They worry that the profile of the event may not be correct for their company, despite the title or apparent target audience. Expenses may outweigh the likely value of leads gained as a result, there is the big issue of return on investment (ROI) that we will address later in this book, and it may not be the right time of year for buyers. The natural cycle of an industry must also be carefully understood. There is no sense in showcasing summer clothing at a spring/summer fashion event in Paris, as the lead times on orders and the fashion industry cycle dictate that this is the time to stock up on winter garb. No matter how bizarre the outsider may feel watching models showcasing fake fur coats in the blazing heat of early Paris summer, or sporting swimwear and summer playsuits on a freezing winter morning in London, that is the industry norm.

    While most exhibitions are about lead generation and signing deals, there is much else going on besides. The show floor offers a chance for networking, industry insight and awareness; and an exhibition’s education programme plays an increasingly important role given the modern opportunity for exploiting such content digitally, shining a light on the event through the Internet. 

    The ability to make a connection at shows is the live event medium’s strongest card.

  • Caravans to palaces

    Caravans to palaces

    Exhibitions and tradeshows have come a long way since caravans in the sand were circled by the Bedouin and other nomadic tribes that gathered to share products from the various areas and regions they had crossed on their travels.

    In Europe the medieval guild fairs helped to define towns, giving them a platform to celebrate the craftsmen and women who called them home. 

    Today, soaring towers of commerce, great palaces dedicated to enterprise and trade, have replaced the tents and market squares that once stood in their place. And none exemplified this shift to dedicated events in quite so spectacular a fashion as the Great Exhibition of 1851, held at the Crystal Palace in London. 

    The event was organised by civil servant and inventor Henry Cole, motivated after an inspiring visit to the Quinquennial Exhibition in Paris two years earlier. Cole, who hailed from the picturesque town of Bath in south-west England, had returned from France disappointed that a show which purported to be global had so few international participants. 

    Believing that there was an opportunity to combine the 1850 and 1851 editions of the exhibitions of the Royal Society for the Encouragement of Arts, Manufactures and Commerce (RSA) – a body to which Cole belonged – he set about creating a larger international exhibition, with the backing of Queen Victoria herself through the presidency of Prince Albert. The event was to be housed in a mighty structure, the purpose-built Crystal Palace in Hyde Park, with many of the exhibits going on to become the inaugural collection of the South Kensington Museum, subsequently the Victoria and Albert Museum.

    The Crystal Palace became one of the world’s iconic man-made structures, and at the time was a centrepiece for the prowess and magnificence of the British Empire. Nine months in the making, Sir Joseph Paxton’s phenomenal ultra-modern building rose to prominence as a glass showcase capable of displaying more than 100,000 products from 14,000 exhibitors from the British Empire and beyond. It measured half a kilometre in length and was 124m wide, thus giving an exhibition area of just under 89,000sqm.

    Around 300,000 panes of glass, at the time cut to the largest size ever made, went into its creation, extravagant use of glass being a signature of Paxton, who had been building greenhouses for the Duke of Devonshire at Chatsworth. It was the largest composition of cut glass that had ever been assembled, and this use of glass on the sides and the roof – enabling people to see into the building from all around – is what gave the building its moniker, courtesy of playwright Douglas Jerrold, a contributor to the satirical British magazine, Punch

    Paxton based his designs on the structure of the regia lily. Using artistic themes for  exhibition and convention centres continues today, with the cidra tree-inspired Qatar National Convention Centre and the Amador Convention Centre in Panama, the latter designed to represent a harpy eagle in flight – the country’s national bird.

    As to what visitors could see inside the Crystal Palace, author H. Beal wrote at the time in his essay, ‘A Visit to London During the Great Exhibition’, that: “The first section of the articles will comprise raw materials and produce. The next great division into which the Exhibition will be classed will be that of machinery of all kinds, illustrative of the agents brought to bear upon the products of nature, in order to bring them in to a manufactured state. In this section will be seen all varieties of steam engines… 

    “In a word, every one may be able to see how cloth is made for his clothes, leather for boots, linen for shirts, silk for gowns, ribbons, and handkerchiefs; how lace is made; how a pin and needle, a button, a knife, a sheet of paper, a ball of thread, a nail, a screw, a pair of stockings are made, how a carpet is woven… In addition to this, the machinery will be exhibited in motion…”

    On her arrival at the exhibition, Queen Victoria was seemingly delighted to witness a buzzing hive of activity in full flow, surrounded as she was by wide-eyed visitors and apparently overjoyed exhibitors, all coming together in some of the most awe-inspiring surroundings in the British Empire. 

    “The sight as we came to the centre where the steps and chair (on which I did not sit) was placed, facing the beautiful crystal fountain was magic and impressive,” she recorded in her diary. “The tremendous cheering, the joy expressed in every face, the vastness of the building, with all its decoration and exhibits, the sound of the organ… all this was indeed moving.”

    The building occupied much of Hyde Park until it was taken down, rebuilt and enlarged on London’s Penge Common (then a wealthy suburb), where it remained from 1854 until destroyed by fire in 1936. During the destruction the trustee board director Sir Henry Buckland is said to have exclaimed that the building would live on in the memories “of not only Englishmen, but of the whole world.” Sir Winston Churchill himself was attributed as saying that the Crystal Palace’s destruction resounded as “the end of an age”.

    But this, as we know, is not the case. The Great Exhibition of 1851 was by no means the first coming together of exhibitors and buyers/exhibitors, but it remains to this day as the super-exhibition that started it all. The appetite for celebrated and giant showplaces was whetted by what had been achieved in 1851.

  • Making an impact in the modern age

    Making an impact in the modern age

    On 11 March 2011, employees of Reed Exhibitions Japan, one division of the world’s largest international exhibition organiser, were gearing up for three exhibitions scheduled to begin in April, buoyed by the fact that the growing events were set to be 30 per cent larger than in 2010.

    The event trio included one of the world’s largest exhibitions in the field of liquid crystal and plasma display manufacturing, the 21st FineTech Japan, as well as the second high-function film show FilmTech Japan and the inaugural light and laser technology event Photonex. With 820 exhibitors and 60,000 visitors expected, of which 5,000 were travelling from overseas, these exhibitions were the first of 25 shows Reed had planned for Japan over a three-month period.

    But this was all about to change. At 2:46pm, as post-lunch meetings got underway, screams began to ring out and terror set in as the Reed office on the 18th floor of a 50-storey skyscraper in Tokyo began to sway alarmingly. Not one employee managed to stay on their feet. When the listing settled Reed hastily evacuated the office. Since all means of transport – public and private – had ceased, employees walked for five or six hours to get home; others stayed in nearby hotels, or gathered together in public buildings and parks. 

    Hours away from the stricken Japanese capital, Reed Exhibitions Japan president and chairman of the Japanese Exhibition Association (JEXA), Tad Ishizumi, was making every effort to get home from a business trip. Unable to reach his wife or any of his colleagues on their mobile phones, he resigned himself to spending another night at his hotel, his isolation compounded when nobody picked up the office phone. Flicking on the news channel in the hotel, reports showed devastation in the Tohoku region and scenes of chaos in Tokyo. Ishizumi was so worried he didn’t sleep a wink.

    The following day he managed to get back to Tokyo and confirm his wife was safe. He contacted his executive staff and when he found out that both the office and employees were secure, he attempted to relax a little.

    But it was at that moment, while wondering if there was anything that could be done for the disaster-stricken area, that his concerns ballooned. Reed Exhibitions Japan had 25 exhibitions to organise by the end of June. Worried that he might be forced to cancel them, he called an emergency meeting. There was a palpable air of tension among the 30 executive staff who assembled for the meeting early the following Monday. In the back of his mind Ishizumi felt the same way they did, but he made an effort to act as composed as possible and set about issuing instructions.

    “First, let’s get the facts straight,” he said. “We will telephone the 2,000 companies exhibiting at the 25 pre-July exhibitions, and tell them we intend to hold the exhibitions as scheduled. Depending on their responses, we should be able to get a clearer understanding of their damage situation, their intention to exhibit, and opinions about holding the exhibitions.”

    At seven in the evening, as soon as the company had finished calling Japan and Asia, the employees set about contacting Europe and then America, where the day was just starting. By the following morning, they had finished. “We were only able to speak to fewer than 1,000 companies, but it was enough to be able to attain our objective,” Ishizumi says. “To start with, around 20 per cent of exhibitors answered that they were considering cancellation because they were certain of a sharp drop in visitor numbers. Some companies among them were even indignantly saying, ‘At a time like this, you should show some self-restraint and cancel the event!’”

    But others were keen to uphold their commitment to the show, despite the potentially low turnout. Sixty per cent of the corporations said they would exhibit as scheduled, including 16 companies from the disaster-stricken area itself. “They told us they had sustained damage but since FineTech is vital for business, they would exhibit in the hope of recovery,” he says. “This made us feel that we should hold the exhibition after all.”

    Small or medium-sized companies account for the majority– of exhibitors at most exhibitions, and for many these events are the biggest opportunity for sales. It’s the reason such companies register a year in advance and invest considerable resources in making their involvement a success. Cancellation comes at a real cost, and the world’s leading organisers understand this. Exhibitions are a gathering of companies in the same industry and if, for example, one company claims that the exhibition is cancelled, this rumour can be all over the industry in no time with the consequent risk of one exhibitor after another cancelling. 

    “Something obvious that tends to be forgotten is that exhibitions are not only about the organisers, but for the exhibitors, the visitors, the venue and the supporting companies as well,” Tad Ishizumi explains. “That is why they register a year in advance and invest money, time and energy. In short, among different types of events, exhibitions have stronger commercial significance and a higher level of seriousness. If we keep this in mind, exhibitions must not be cancelled so easily.”

    By promptly distributing correct information about the effects of the earthquake, Ishizumi hoped to prevent just such a situation developing.

    What he couldn’t account for, however, were the growing problems at the nuclear power plant at Fukushima. The severity of the situation was worsening and organisers throughout Japan were cancelling their shows. Indeed, the number of cancellations increased dramatically, as exhibitors grew fearful that the halls would be empty and perhaps even without power. The mood of self-restraint grew stronger.

    Ishizumi came off the phone to his colleagues, now aware that 80 per cent of the 180 overseas corporations scheduled to exhibit at FineTech had requested the event’s cancellation – to his mind the result of excessive and exaggerated reports in the overseas media of problems at Fukushima . One exhibitor announced that “The food and water in Japan is covered in radiation, and going to Japan is like going to die. We are cancelling our participation.” In addition, Ishizumi had cancellations from another country saying, one potential exhibitor saying “We heard many countries are repatriating their own citizens because Fukushima is close to Tokyo. Holding the exhibition is crazy.” 

    In an effort to overcome initial fears that Tokyo was near to the Fukushima plant, Ishizumi  commissioned maps to visually convey the fact that Tokyo was actually 230km away and 400km from the epicentre of the earthquake. The company also explained that the Japanese Government had set the evacuation zone at 20km from the power plant – the US Government, with its highly cautious stance, had set it at 80km. This clarification changed the mind of some considering withdrawal. He also presented a report from the Nikkei, Japan’s most influential economic newspaper, explaining that the radiation level in TokyoS–S would not pose a threat to health.

    Despite this, the pressure was made worse by the fact that many observers from the exhibition industry, politics, government and other industries were watching FineTech with intense interest. Since almost all exhibitions in Japan had been cancelled after the earthquake, the success or failure of FineTech would be seen as an indicator for the other international exhibitions and conventions that were to follow.

    The company more than tripled its telephone invitations from 3,000 influential buyers in Japan to 10,000 people. Ten staff members responsible for FineTech in Japan and 20 part-time workers made one phone call after another from morning until night, urging attendance at the exhibition. Ishizumi had to curb any possibility of a drastic reduction in the number of visitors.

    “Before we knew it, it was 10 o’clock in the morning of 13 April; the first day of the exhibition. When the doors opened we were astonished. Tens of thousands of people began piling in. It was overwhelming. We had been choked by a deep anxiety that the visitor numbers would drop, an anxiety that would not vanish until we actually saw it happening.”

    Three days later at 5pm, as the show organisers closed FineTech’s doors, the dust began to settle. Where the number of visitors had been expected to reach half of the previous year at a stretch, it instead increased daily until it reached 55,323 people: a figure on a par with the previous year. 

    “When I spoke at the reception party about what we’d achieved for the FDP [Flat Display Panel] sector, and the economic recovery of the Tohoku region, there was a huge round of applause in the middle of the speech – something that is not customary for Japanese people,” says Ishizumi.  “Almost all the exhibitors signed contracts for the next exhibition. Two hundred companies that had cancelled their participation at the last minute, or hadn’t been scheduled to exhibit, told us they regretted not exhibiting, that they had decided to participate next time, and signed contracts for the next exhibition on the spot. During the show period alone, there was actually an increase of 10 per cent from this year to next year in applications for exhibit booths, reaching a total of 1,450 booths.”

    The show must go on, he explains: “Exhibitions revitalise every industry and bring benefits to the exhibitors and to the visitors. This is linked to developing the economy of Japan and the reconstruction in Tohoku. If we had exercised self-restraint, it would only have delayed the reconstruction. Instead, we needed to be even more assertive about holding shows than in the past. 

    “Small or medium-sized corporations account for 70–80 per cent of exhibitors at most exhibitions, including FineTech. Unlike major corporations, their selling powers are weak even if they have excellent products, and for many the exhibitions are the biggest opportunity for sales. In order to meet their expectations we must not cancel any exhibitions unless there are extraordinary circumstances.”

    The schedule was maintained, everyone involved was kept informed to the best of Reed’s ability through constant updates and the efforts of a round-the-clock team: remarkably, the event was an enormous success. Those in the industry who at first had held their breath now gave Reed Exhibitions Japan the praise it deserved.

    This success story has since become a topic of conversation throughout Japan’s exhibition sector and beyond, and qualifies not just as one of the global exhibition industry’s greatest examples of how to work together to overcome adversity on an unprecedented scale, but as one more celebrated example of the significance of a global exhibition to the market it serves.