Your Panel (Probably) Definitely Sucks

Everyone nod your head and agree with me that we need to unfuck this format at conferences.

A question ahead of this rant: Do you remember anything from the last panel you attended? Even if it happened yesterday…I’m betting the answer is no.

Picture this: Four executives sit on stage, nodding at each other's carefully sanitized statements while two hundred people check their phones. Welcome to another business conference panel - where meaningful discourse goes to die.

Sidebar AI(dea): Can someone please make a machine vision model for panels that measures the number of times participants mindlessly nod along with something another panelist is saying and if it hits a critical mass…a klaxon goes off and they are booted from the panel?

Why are we convening 3 or more “thought leaders” if all they are doing is agreeing with one another. That kind of defeats the meaning of ‘leadership’.

More and more I feel like I am in my penance era…making up for the sins of my career past. Reflecting on actions, that at the time were done with no ill intentions, but in retrospect did more harm than good and there will be more entries into this blog on that, but up for this one is something I have absolutely come to loathe: conference panels, it's time we had an honest conversation about this theatrical format. It isn't just stale – it's actively holding back meaningful discourse at a time when it is so desperately needed.

The root of the panel problem stems from a fundamental misalignment of incentives. Organizations have become increasingly risk-averse, conditioning their workforce, to prioritize appearance over substance. When you put three or more such individuals on stage, even at the highest levels, each carrying the weight of their corporate brand guidelines and PR playbooks, you're not fostering dialogue – you're orchestrating a sophisticated form of corporate performance art. At the same time, event organizers need the heavy hitters from those organizations to show up to draw other attendees to the conference.

The resulting "shallow dive" conversational format has become particularly counterproductive, where participants often mistake their surface-level knowledge for expertise. The result? Panels filled with people who are more concerned with "How can I look better?" rather than "How can we do this better?" We are all reading the same shit on LinkedIn, X…pick your poison, so if all you are doing as a panelist is regurgitating that…spare us all. Your meandering, overly academic repackaging is so incredibly tedious to your audience that begins feeling more like they are being held captive, than truly being captivated.

The true irony is that this approach directly contradicts what catalyzes innovation. Human creativity is rapidly increasing in value, as such, we need forums that encourage positive dissatisfaction with the status quo. Instead, we've created a bunch of platforms for the already arrogant to drone on about tenuous connections to accomplishments that have already faded into irrelevance.

The solution isn't complicated, but it requires courage. We need moderators who act as audience surrogates rather than toothless sycophants. We need to embrace the chaos of real dialogue and move beyond the safe harbor of rehearsed talking points. Most importantly, we need to understand that true expertise isn't measured by title or tenure, but by the ability to challenge assumptions and generate fresh perspectives informed by real experience.

There is infinitely more value in highlighting your past missteps to the audience, those are the moments when knowledge is really imparted. Think more in terms: “Don’t make this mistake I did.” Of course, there is a place to highlight instance where you have managed to make something work that shouldn’t have, but focus on why it shouldn’t have and what actions were taken that changed the outcomes for the better.

A little sidebar on what makes a truly great moderator: Just forget about speaking in the first person for the entirety of the panel. IT IS NOT ABOUT YOU! See my point above about being a surrogate for the audience. The best example of terrible moderation is self-proclaimed “World’s Greatest Moderator” Jason Calacanis. The funny thing about “J Cal” is that he is not even the greatest moderator on his own 4 person podcast All-In. That honor goes to David Friedberg, who typically (and seemingly reluctantly) takes on that role on the podcast whenever Jason is not on. Friedberg is so good at asking questions with a sincere intellectual curiosity and humility. Conversely, Calacanis can never resist the temptation to pose his questions in some form that desperately wedges in “I understand this complex subject, (spoiler alert: he almost never does) but explain it to these mouthbreathers for us.” type of intellectual chest-pounding framing that is insufferable to the audience.

The next time you're organizing or moderating a panel, consider this: Are you creating a space for genuine insight, or are you just participating in another form of corporate theater? The answer to that question could be the difference between a transformative discussion and just another forgettable hour of consultant-speak and recycled platitudes.

In closing, here are my rules for Actually Useful Panels:

1. The 80-Second Rule: No speaker gets more than 80 seconds of continuous airtime. Period. Use a timer, give a warning nod at 60 seconds, and interrupt if necessary. Concision breeds clarity.

2. The Preparation Paradox: Share individual questions with panelists beforehand, but never the full set. This prevents rehearsed, synchronized performances while still allowing for thoughtful responses.

3. The Disagreement Directive: Actively discourage head-nodding consensus. If all panelists agree on everything, you've either picked the wrong panelists or you're not asking the right questions.

4. The CV Ban: No biographical monologues allowed. Past experiences are only relevant when directly tied to solving current challenges or illustrating specific failures and lessons learned.

5. The Audience First Rule: The moderator's sole job is to be the audience's advocate. Every question should stem from "What would the audience most want to know?" not "What would make these panelists look good?"

These rules aren't just guidelines – they're a manifesto for rescuing corporate discourse from the clutches of unproductive conjecture. We can no longer afford to waste time on performative discussions that prioritize politeness over progress. We need forums that embrace the messy reality of innovation and allow for the kind of constructive friction that drives real insight.