TEDx Spirit — Can the disciples outgrow their teacher?
or TEDxing in spite of TED
When I got home from TEDGlobal>Geneva last year before Christmas, I was full of enthusiasm. I wrote a long report about it in Czech to let my less fortunate friends and colleagues have an idea what is it like to get a „TED experience“. I also try hard to be not only a man-of-words but rather one of „dreamers-who-do“ as Renata Chlumska nicely put it at TEDxPrague last October. So I set myself a simple goal: to take better care for our local TEDx brands, helping different teams from towns and cities share their experiences and know-how. And to spread TEDx spirit throughout the community.
But what is it, this „TEDx spirit“? Few years ago, when the whole movement started, it was all about TED. Or TED.com, to be precise. We were fascinated by the videos of „Ideas Worth Spreading“, outstanding jaw-dropping perfect short presentations and talks. Then some of us were silly enough to start organizing our own TED-like events, 1) licensed but 2) independently organized, 3) non-profit, 4) volunteer-based. Why? Well, I think we all were in the stage of life where we needed „inspiration“ or „breathing in fresh air“. We also felt the need to do something with a slightly higher meaning than securing our families. For me it was (and still is) so fascinating to be able to pick up a phone and call literally anyone and invite them for a coffee just to tell them about TEDx and maybe inviting them to give a talk. But this is not the TEDx spirit yet.
In 2009, we started organizing TEDx events. It was wonderful — and things got difficult. Remember, we were all doing it in our spare time. But to do it properly, you sometimes have to spend tens and hundreds of hours before things are ready and you can open the doors and let the audience in on day D. With this amount of work, you need a reliable team.
Who do you recruit when you have neither the money nor the permission to pay them? Do you choose experienced professionals, or put up with enthusiastic students? And when you happen to have the people together, what do you reward them with? And how do you differentiate between rewarding the on-site volunteers for their one-day efforts and compensating your core team members for weeks and months put “on the altar of the X”?
Somewhere in the middle of 2012 we had the first major conflict within the TEDxPrague team. It was very complex, but besides some personal compatibility issues there was the underlying question of what is it that we do, how do we want to do it and — as Simon Sinek would tell you — why. Some of the accusations were „because he just wants to have fun“ or „because she loves things only when perfect“ or „because he’s just putting it in his CV“ or „because we want to present ourselves as professionals“. None of these are fully true.
One of my friends wrote on Twitter in mid 2013: „now I understand why TEDxPrague tickets are so expensive when some professionals like Samuel are organizing it“. I thought I would cry. At that time I had already invested hundreds of hours into preparations — for free, while being a father of a growing single-income family. Of course I was not alone. I was repeatedly getting silently tired with sponsors who would fuss about advertising, logos, roll-ups, stands, premium merchandising — for a $ 2.000 donation, while our team’s long-term input counts in tens of thousands.
Back to our „why“ which is closely connected with the reward. One of American Prague-dwelling presentation coaches wrote (when criticizing the quality of our events) that TEDx should be a „showcase of amazing stories told in an engaging way“. Well yes, nothing wrong about it. But it’s still not getting to the point. What we finally agreed is that the real purpose of our silly non-profit efforts is: CREATING OPPORTUNITY. We’re creating opportunity for ourselves to grow and gain experience, opportunity for the speakers to shine and share their ideas, opportunity for the audience to learn and to connect in a discussion.
I wouldn’t risk to break my marriage or ruin my job by spending hundreds of extra hours on TEDx preparations just for a „showcase“. Not repeatedly. But I can consciously risk a lot for the opportunity that arises for me (and that is created for the others). I think the other team members feel it the same way.
No matter how clearly we have defined our own purpose as (independent) TEDx, we’re still connected to our big famous godfather in America, the TED. On one hand, it gives you a great starting point when you have to explain what the heck your TEDx is about: „look at this TED talk, you’ll get the point, we’re trying to do something similar“. On the other hand, it’s us, the TEDx pawns, who help spread the fame of TED. It seems like a miracle: which other brand can say that they have tens of thousands ambassadors all over the World, and more stand in a virtual queue, applying to join?
How much does Omega pay to George Clooney to be their ambassador? TED is so much smarter: we all pay to become TED’s unofficial ambassadors. We pay with our free time, skills — and even with money, when we get the rare occasion and travel to attend one of the famous TED conferences. In return, we get the opportunity to use the TEDx brand (subject to many rules and strictly divided from the TED brand). And then we get the opportunity to work even harder. And it works. Isn’t this amazing?
On the other hand, I sometimes struggle with the question whether we really are on the same wavelength with TED. I tried to discuss some rules when co-applying for a license with a friend who wants to start TEDx in her city. I wrote: “I know that the rules say so and so and I would like to ask for an exception.” The reply? „Sorry, but the rules say so and so.“ No discussion. (I know there’s hardly any space for discussion, regarding how many requests they possibly get daily.)
A few weeks ago, a fellow TEDx organizer inquired whether the 100 limit of attendees (that applies if the licensee haven’t attended a TED conference) includes volunteers and speakers. My first inner reaction was something like „For goodness sake don’t ask, you’re not a child. Just do what feels right.“ Then I found a wonderful talk on TED, presented by my beloved psychologist Barry Schwartz, who first drew my attention to TED many years ago: https://www.ted.com/talks/barry_schwartz_on_our_loss_of_wisdom
At some point, you have to leave the rules, limits and guidelines behind and use your wisdom, put forward the personal respect, real human connection, your sense for community. You have to risk some quality to create opportunity for those who deserve to be heard. You have to invest hundreds of hours for free and risk your reputation, job, even more. For the others, not for yourself. Then you become a TEDxer.
I know that there are many, thousands of TEDx around the World. I understand that TED wants to have at least some supervision over the quality of our events. But where lies the quality? In the talks, or in the human connections that they ignite? And shouldn’t we, senior TEDx organizers have a word to say to it? Do we really need the big boys and girls in New York to bless us with a license (based on a questionaire or two), or should there be a way that a word or two from fellow TEDx organizers from the region count for the same weight — when they know well what TEDx (no necessarily TED) stands for?
When thinking again about Barry Schwartz’es lesson I have one question: dear TED, isn’t it time to talk about decentralizing a bit? I’m happy to help, in my free time! You make really sure we all understand what TED is all about. Could we have a discussion about what TEDx means?
