I’ve been to a lot of conferences over the years: PopTech, PCForum, eTech, Web 2.0, Government 2.0, South by Southwest, Transparency Camp, Netroots Nation, RightRoots, Politics Online, MESH, the International Journalism Festival, Guardian Activate, and re:Publica all come to mind. Many of these more than once. And of course, since 2004 I’ve curated twelve Personal Democracy Forum conferences, nine in NY and three overseas, with the help of my partner-in-crime Andrew Rasiej and our hardworking and devoted staff.
But I’ve never experienced anything as soul-, heart- AND brain-satisfying as Web of Change (WoC). I just got back from six days in British Columbia, four of which I spent at Hollyhock, the wilderness retreat on Cortes Island in the Discovery Island archipelago, which calls itself Canada’s “lifelong learning centre.” And I feel renewed and reconnected in all kinds of ways, thanks to the amazing curation done by the organizers of WoC and the community they have nurtured, as well as the inspiring setting of the gathering in what, briefly, felt like an island paradise.
I’m late to this discovery, I know. I’ve been hearing good things about WoC for years from various friends in the Personal Democracy universe, people like Michael Silberman (WoC’s chair for the last three years), Cheryl Contee, Josh Levy, Marianne Manilov, and Jessica Shearer. But this was the first year where the timing actually fit my schedule, and I’m very glad I went. So glad, that if I could go back there tomorrow, I would.
This isn’t a post about the content of WoC so much as it is about the how and why it works. I’m still noodling on the feedback I got from a session that I co-led on the notion of a “new political paradigm” emerging from the stew of things we collaborate on now, and conversations that flowed from that are definitely informing the upcoming event PDM is doing Monday September 24th here in NYC with Steven Johnson, Beth Noveck, Tina Rosenberg and Clay Shirky. More on that later.
What is a web of change?
Web of Change bills itself as “a series of conferences that connects the foremost thinkers and do-ers in the growing community of social change and technology from across North America,” but that really isn’t the best description. First off, let’s be clear. It’s for progressives. You can’t just buy a ticket; you need to apply to attend or be invited. I don’t know if similar events exist for conservatives; for all I know WoC is unique in what it does.
Speaking at a breakout session on WoC’s future, Jason Mogus, a web industry veteran who started the event in 2001, said its initial goals were “to build a deep trust network, support mastery of tools, leadership development, and creating a culture of radical openness and cooperation in the field.” And that’s what I found. It’s actually a rare hybrid: a gathering of social change activists and leaders who are not only interested in the power of the Internet to supercharge their causes, but who also understand that the culture of openness and sharing that comes with the net itself can foster greater cross-movement trust and effectiveness. In a sentence, it’s a place where the gap between political organizers and techies almost doesn’t exist.
To be sure, I met some people who were primarily organizers looking to hone their tech savvy, and other people who were web services experts looking to hone their political chops. But most people were in the middle of the Venn diagram. (At PDF we work to build bridges between those two worlds.) When someone joked about advocacy organizations that hired web firms but promised they’d saved them time by already designing their own “information architecture,” people laughed knowingly. And nearly everyone was steeped in progressive movement lore and knew what a “theory of change” was.
That, however, doesn’t fully explain Web of Change’s value, to me at least. Nearly all of the conferences I go to (or curate) are almost entirely about being smart, meeting smart people, feeding your brain, and professional networking. Those things can be quite valuable–or intimidating–but they’re rarely about the deeper currents that power human behavior. Occasionally a talk will hit at the more profound level of values and passions–think of Jim Gilliam’s “The Internet is My Religion” talk from PDF 2011 or Cheryl Contee’s “The End of the Digital Divide” from PDF 2012. For both of those talks, attendees closed their laptops and concentrated solely on what was being said, and by the end there was hardly a dry eye in the house.
The political is personal
Instead of avoiding the question of why we do what we do, WoC embraces the personal side of being a professional activist or techie. Each day at the conference included a morning “sunrise” session that was actually not at sunrise (thank goodness) but designed to help attendees do their own personal soul-searching. “What brings you joy?” “What gives you meaning?” “What feels in sync in your life?” “What feels out of sync?” were some of the questions posed. You could answer to yourself, but everyone was also encouraged to at least briefly vocalize their answers to a fellow attendee. I know that some people who came thinking this was a traditional tech/politics conference were a little surprised by these probings, but most who knew what they were getting into, like me, embraced the chance to go a bit deeper than usual.
The more traditional content of the conference also pushed beyond people’s comfort zones. This year that content was organized around the theme of “What is Winning,” but the most meaningful presentations and conversations occurred during refreshingly honest discussions of mistakes made and failure. By the rules of the event, I can’t go into any detail to describe who said what, but it was truly striking how self-critical people were, especially during a “Failure Confessional” that was remarkable in its frankness, and which drew a standing ovation for its two brave speakers once it was over. That session set a tone that others soon copied. For example, a question one speaker brought up during a session on how to communicate values more effectively was “What decides which group you target?” “An enthusiastic donor,” someone shouted out, to laughter. “No, assume you’re not a donor-led organization,” replied the speaker. “Huh? What’s that?” came the painfully candid reply. Everyone winced.
Political honesty was matched by a lot of personal letting-it-all-hang-out. Friday and Saturday night’s parties weren’t bacchanals, but the wine and beer flowed and we danced. And not the wary, how-do-I-look-to-other’s dancing that sometimes happens at professional gatherings, but something more joyous and communal. Credit for this atmosphere of release and renewal also has to go to Hollyhock itself, which regular hosts these kinds of gatherings and seems to have perfected the art of peak experience. I’m still savoring the wild Pacific salmon they served on Friday night and the barbecued fresh oysters on Saturday night, as well as the fresh plums picked from their own trees and the bioluminescence on display each night that we waded into the cold waters of the Georgia Strait. Not to mention the nearby hot tubs that warmed us before and after.
I’ve certainly been to conferences in beautiful places before, like PopTech in Camden Maine at the peak of autumn, or PC Forum at a five-star resort outside of Phoenix. But those conferences cost thousands of dollars to attend, and mainly attract the wealthy or people on corporate accounts (along with the occasional journalist, like me, who cadges a free press pass). Here at Web of Change, I was sharing a moment of existential bliss with the leaders and rising stars of today’s social change movements–people who are almost always pushing a rock up a hill and getting paid little for the pleasure, or privilege, or necessity, of fighting for what they believe is right. Many were there on scholarship. There was very little of the peacocking behavior that so often comes with accomplished people. Rather, it felt like a summer camp reunion of people who felt like they knew each other already, and by the end, we did.
Next year in Austin?
Assuming that by now you are already carving out time on your September 2013 calendar to go to the next annual gathering, here comes the twist: After years incubating at Hollyhock, the founders and organizers of Web of Change have just made a hard decision to move the event to a more accessible location in the hill country near Austin, Texas. It’s a major shlep to get to Hollyhock, and the WoC network has agonized over whether to move to someplace less remote, especially to be able to attract more attendees of color. Now they’ve decided to take that leap.
This shift comes at the same time that the WoC network has decided to get a bit more formal in its organizational structure. Up till now, it’s largely been a labor of love supported by founder Jason Mogus’s company, and a rotating circle of core volunteers. Now that the network is well-established, they’re incorporating as a nonprofit, setting up a board, and planning to raise money to support some extensions of their work, mostly around thought leadership, leadership development and mentoring.
It’s impossible to predict how these changes will alter Web of Change; only time will tell. But my guess is that if the core organizers of this community stick together, then WoC will do fine wherever it goes. I’m certainly planning to be there.
September 13, 2012