Conferences and Conversations: Lessons from Barcelona

Preparation and Anticipation

I arrived in Barcelona with a quiet sense of excitement. I had spent weeks refining my slides, re-framing my arguments, and aligning my topic, Transforming Assessment Design: Action-Based Research on Responsible AI Use in Higher Education, with the conference theme. It felt timely and important: a chance to share what I had learned from months of research, classroom experimentation, and conversations about how AI can be used ethically and meaningfully in assessment design.

I felt ready, confident, and curious about what this year’s conference might bring. The city itself always fills me with life, and I hoped the conference would do the same.

When Energy Feels Different

Yet once it began, the atmosphere felt different from the previous year, quieter, slower, and somehow less connected. There were fewer participants, smaller audiences, and many presenters read directly from their papers, their eyes fixed on screens. The spark that gives conferences their energy — genuine exchange, curiosity, and the surprise of ideas meeting in real time — was missing.

The Missing Tables of Connection

What struck me most was not the academic tone, but the emptiness of shared spaces. There was no lunch provided, and only minimal refreshments during the short tea breaks. It may sound trivial, but food creates community. A simple lunch, even a modest buffet, is often where the real conversations begin — where collaborations form, where ideas breathe.

Without that shared space, the days felt long and slightly disconnected. Many participants left the venue to find food in the heat, some skipping meals altogether because of the time pressure and cost. The lack of hospitality affected the energy in subtle ways, leaving little room for informal connection or warmth. Even the tea-time snacks disappeared quickly, leaving latecomers with empty trays and missed moments.

A Full Room and Real Dialogue

My own session, though, was a highlight. The room was full, the questions thoughtful, and the discussion alive. My topic, exploring responsible AI use in assessment, resonated with educators and researchers who were navigating the same challenges. The feedback was warm and encouraging, and several participants approached me afterwards to continue the conversation. Those brief exchanges reminded me why we present: not for recognition, but for dialogue and shared learning.

The View from Above

After the conference ended, I joined a few of my younger friends for a ride on the Telefèric de Montjuïc. As we rose above the city, Barcelona stretched out beneath us: the sea, the rooftops, the slow heartbeat of life continuing in every direction. It felt peaceful, like seeing the world, and perhaps my own work, from a higher perspective. We laughed, took photos, and shared a quiet sense of wonder. From up there, everything looked lighter, simpler, possible.

What Could Be Better

If I could offer one suggestion to the organisers, it would be simple: bring back the sense of community. Conferences thrive on hospitality, not extravagance, just care. A shared lunch, a walking tour, or even a coffee corner can transform the experience. In Australia, for instance, the conference organisers offered an optional city tour, and it was wonderful — relaxed, engaging, and full of laughter. Those small gestures create lasting memories and meaningful professional bonds. Academic gatherings are meant to ignite minds, but they should also nourish hearts.

Reflections Beyond the Podium

Barcelona itself, of course, was as beautiful as ever: the sea breeze, the sunlight, the laughter spilling into the streets. But inside the conference rooms, I was reminded that learning is as much about human connection as it is about content. Without shared spaces, knowledge stays contained; with them, it travels, grows, and transforms.

This year’s conference reminded me of something simple yet profound: ideas need people, and people need each other. It also reminded me how food connects us, how it creates space for conversation, and how important it is to be able to sit, share, and exchange ideas without worrying about where to find the next meal or how much it might cost. Moments of connection are often built around something as simple as a shared table.

That is what keeps scholarship alive.