BEHIND THE BOARDS: HOW THE 2027 PROGRAMME WAS BUILT →
400 pitches, 72 slots, one very full wall.
People think hosting is talking. Hosting is listening — to the clock, to the room, to the speaker whose slides just died. Three stages, seventy-two sessions, and the whole weekend runs within six minutes of the printed times. Here is how.
Every host carries the same single page: session title, speaker name pronounced phonetically, three personal facts, hard out-time. No laptops, no scrolling. When a talk overruns, the host already knows which two questions to drop and which one the audience would riot without.
At two minutes to the hour, the host stands. At one minute, the walk-on music fades. At zero, they are mid-sentence. Audiences forgive almost anything except waiting, so we never make two thousand people watch an empty stage. New hosts rehearse this more than their jokes.
Things break every year. Last edition a keynote clicker died mid-sentence and the speaker did the remaining twenty minutes from memory — the audience still talks about it. The host's job in those moments is simple: stay delighted. If the host is delighted, the room is delighted.
400 pitches, 72 slots, one very full wall.
The talks and corners that turn a first visit into a habit.