Ninety-nine days ago, the government announced that the Netherlands in three steps would open. I don’t know how others are doing, but my calendar has undergone a metamorphosis since that joyous day in February. From nothing to a deluge of postponed visits, catch-up parties, network drinks, company barbecues and conferences. Busy weekends and a mailbox overflowing with invitations to conferences and presentations. Because: it’s possible again! We can go again! Nice to see you!
Less than six months ago we complained about Zoomfatigue and Teams intolerance, because corona forced us to do everything via webcam. Now that it is possible and allowed to meet each other again, the conference world is also catching up. It has to be done again: as if all canceled meetings of 2020 and 2021 can be made up in three hysterical months.
How indispensable are such conferences if you can skip them for a year or two? The most famous senseless congress will take place in Davos this week: the World Economic Forum, where the leaders of international business and the political elite huddle against each other in the beneficial climate of the Swiss high mountains. This time not in the snow, but between flowering alpine meadows. Waiting another year was apparently not an option.
Fifty years of the World Economic Forum have not been able to save the world from disaster, war and poverty. This year’s edition doesn’t succeed either – even if they had Rutger Bregman again invited.
The program in Davos includes a discussion about the metaverse. That is a dream of Facebook founder Mark Zuckerberg: a three-dimensional computer world in which you meet without leaving the house. If the Davos visitors were to celebrate their party in the metaverse, they would save money capitals in entrance fees (soon 60,000 euros per person) and a few tons of CO2emissions.
Ukrainian President Zelensky gave it good example: he spoke to Davos in his T-shirt, from behind his own desk. Zelensky operates the webcam with his left hand and wages war with his right hand; working from home can be so efficient.
But the memory of remote working seems to be fading fast. You only have to go to the stock price from Zoom, maker of video conferencing software. Zoom peaked with the lockdowns ($559) and has since lost 80 percent of its value. That’s how quickly we forgot the lessons of the corona crisis.
The pandemic created time to realize that an empty agenda also has pleasant sides. That traveling to conferences may not be such an efficient use of time. That you can also have a good conversation via a screen (meeting is another story). And that you can work concentrated and productively in a quiet home office.
The crowds are getting used to. Before you know it you are no longer locked in your house, but in your agenda. You have to be firm to decline invitations – come by, it’s fun, isn’t it? Back straight, plate in front of your head. Setting boundaries and daring to say ‘no’. And try every now and then.
Last week, I gently stuck my toe in the convention water; a first post-corona conference. The hall was packed with fifteen hundred breathing fellows, here and there a Hoester. In the echoing meeting room, everyone tried to speak louder than the rest. It’s up to my brain to filter out the abundance of ambient noise. This is how a social network algorithm feels, I imagined, searching for relevant messages in a never-ending stream of noise and nonsense.
Hey, there was Johan again. That’s what I call my tinnitus—a shrill beeping sound that had barely been heard for two years. Another old acquaintance that I didn’t really miss. High time to leave.
Marc Hijink writes about technology here. Twitter: @MarcHiijinkNRC
A version of this article also appeared in the newspaper of May 25, 2022