Round and Round We Go…

So, I am still considering folding this into my Substack, but truth be told I've been far too busy to get around to do the move of my website. The book on crime may be done, but there are always research applications to write, courses to give, keynotes to present, and other publications to finish. One of the things that has kept me from the move is that I was working on a big article on the ethnography of management knowledge, specifically on the speaking circuit. So, today, for your delectation, a fragment from that monstruously long piece (13,000 words in all). I'm hoping that as summer comes, I get to do more focused work on creativity again, which might make for more fun reading. Or not. Anyway, until next time, stay classy out there! Kind regards, Alf

On the Circuit

The term 'circuit' is used in a number of fields of punditry and entertainment to refer to a tendency to perform in many of the same places over time, with the circuit being a metaphor for the greater audience. A famous form for this was the so-called "chitlin' circuit" (Lauterbach, 2011), which referred to a series of venues in the southern and southeastern states of the US (although the circuit reached as far as the upper Midwest) that were safe and welcoming for African-American musicians. During the segregation era, this circuit was central for many such artists, and the term is used to this day among e.g. blues musicians. In a similar manner, comedians refer to a 'comedy club circuit', and particularly in the US there is a 'university circuit' that is critical to many indy bands and the aforementioned comedians. The term seems to have its roots in an old practice in early US history. While itinerant preachers have been part and parcel of Christianity for a very long time, it is notable that early US clergy, particularly such aligned with the Methodist Episcopal Church, spoke of a "preaching circuit", which was in effect a path taken by preachers that took them across a number of small hamlets and villages across the by then sparsely inhabited states (see e.g. Wigger, 2009). A famous preacher such as Francis Asbury (1745-1816), one of the two first US bishops and the first to be appointed in the US by way of a vote of US peers, is said to have ridden almost half a million kilometers on various US circuits to preach. This would have made him one of the most active and long-term "circuit riders", but far from the only one. It is estimated that by the time of Asbury's death, there may have been as many as 700 such preachers (ibid.). Nor was this practice tied only to religious affairs. There were of course itinerant merchants, but these rarely followed set circuits but rather followed market trends and aimed to find underserved communities. A more apt comparison can be found in the early judiciary, where US judges often also rode on a circuit (as codified in the Judiciary Act of 1789), a practice that today survives in the term "circuit court" (the appellate courts between district courts and the Supreme Court). Judges famously hated "riding circuit", but the practice persisted for some time, not least as there was a dearth of judges during the early years of US history.

Whereas the "chitlin' circuit" was a network of set clubs, and the circuits of early US preachers and judges were often mapped out in detail and followed closely (as the circuit was designed to minimize travel and deviating from set paths could be dangerous), the circuit as this is discussed by professional speakers is a far more fluid thing. When a professional speaker refers to the circuit, what they are alluding to is the fact that there exists a number of bigger events that many other speakers will either know of or have performed at themselves, and that familiarity with this structure is seen as legitimizing. One can be a professional speaker without ever having been to the Thinkers50 gala, SXSW, or the Global Peter Drucker Forum, but at a minimum one is expected to know of the existence of these and have at least some opinion of them. One may, for instance, state that one never has had the time to go to the Thinkers50 gala, but feigning ignorance of the event itself would, to many international speakers, be seen as a faux pas, or as proof that the speaker ignorant of it is a 'local speaker' and thus not in quite the same rarefied circle as those who do.

The reason business speakers talk of a circuit can be understood in a number of ways. There does exist a set number of major events, and a successful speaker can in a career appear on most or even all of these, but it needs to be noted that this does not mean that they will do so in anything like a systematic manner or in a discernible pattern. Event managers, particularly at the top events, are keenly aware of the challenge of putting together a unique and diverse program, leading to a number of considerations. One of these is that many events have repeat customers in the audience, meaning that one aims to minimize repeat performances (unless a performance has been particularly successful). Another, somewhat more surprising element, is that top events may opt out of booking the most popular speakers at that moment, for the simple reason that they have done one or more of the other top events. What this leads to is a continued search for the next hot speaker, but also a dispersal of invites, where a top speaker may do all the top events but over a surprisingly high number of years. Some top speakers even bemoan never having made a top event due to this, suffering the indignity of said event opting out when they were at the height of their fame and then not booking them when said fame started to fade.

The circuit thus represents a multifaceted phenomenon within the epistemic culture surrounding management. For speakers, it serves several critical functions. Primarily, it functions as a source of legitimacy. By referring to a circuit, speakers delineate a specific field in which they operate, implicitly suggesting membership in a community and thereby distinguishing themselves from mere entertainers or transient performers. This identification confers legitimacy upon their activities, a nuance often understated but inherent in the cultural lexicon of the speaking industry. The speaking circuit is of course also critical for there to even be a possibility to be a professional speaker. The COVID-19 pandemic starkly highlighted this dimension, as the near cessation of the circuit posed an existential threat to many speakers. The abrupt disappearance of this income engine left only limited opportunities, predominantly monopolized by top-tier speakers willing to offer webinars at significantly reduced rates. Consequently, actors within this field perceive it through both cultural and economic lenses. The vitality and activity of the circuit are subjects of considerable interest among professional speakers, frequently discussed in interviews and intra-group dialogues.

For audiences and particularly for purchasers of services within the executive entertainment sector, the circuit functions as an engine of legitimacy. Event managers often verify whether potential speakers have participated in other prestigious events before making hiring decisions. A successful presentation at either major or minor events can lead to subsequent engagements. Therefore, speakers frequently evaluate whether an event might generate further opportunities, with external showcases for a company's customers being more desirable than internal company events. Thus, internal events can be viewed as less lucrative (and thus interesting) as they seldom result in immediate rehire opportunities, whereas presenting at large external events with numerous potential clients can be highly profitable if executed successfully. Certain high-profile events hold significant economic value in the public speaking domain. Historically, TED events had the potential to elevate a speaker's career dramatically; however, their impact has diminished over the past decade. While TEDx events remain respected, they no longer guarantee subsequent engagements as they once did. Conversely, insider events like the Global Peter Drucker Forum are valuable for networking and professional standing within the field but are less economically advantageous due to fewer prospective clients. Mega-events such as Salesforce's annual conference or South by Southwest retain high interest among speakers due to their substantial audience potential and capacity for generating extensive follow-up opportunities. These standout events occupy an outsized place in the economic imagination of public speakers, underscoring the dual cultural and economic dimensions of the circuit.

These considerations might be understood as 'inside football', in that they are of interest mainly to people attempting to make a living on said circuit. What should also be noted is that for the broader business audience, the circuit also has a dual nature. On the one hand, it is formed by a number of events where an executive might wish to be in the audience in order to learn, keep updated, and network. Not all executives join such events, but a significant part of them do, as proven by the sheer number of events that are put up. For such audiences, then, the speaking circuit represents a key vector for the dissemination of management knowledge claims, one in part legitimized by the broader circuit. Another way to put this is to say that the circuit enables the consumption of management knowledge, and through this creates audiences for the same. The management ideas that later can affect both strategy work and other internal practices can at least to an extent be traced back to this kind of consumption, and the efficacy of the entertainment aspect as this relates to the mnemonic power of management idea diffusion. However, this direct link between performances of management knowledge and the adoption of ditto ideas might in fact be dwarfed by the manner in which the circuit understood as a whole implies and reifies the notion of continuous development in the management épistémè. Executives are well aware of the existence of these big business events, and often aware of many of the biggest names on the circuit. What events continuously aim to do is to suggest that they have curated the cutting edge of management knowledge, the latest and the greatest ideas, and performances that ensure the correct transmission of these. Executives can of course not validate such claims, and are thus faced with a situation where not only they might miss out on critical information, but worse still, that their competition might not. This FOMO (Fear Of Missing Out) is built into the very industry, which thrives on neophilia (see Boltanski & Chiapello, 2005; Sennett, 2006) and the power of performances to enrich what is often rather basic knowledge claims. Here, speakers are often quite candid about the balance between content and performance, often praising speakers who are not seen as particularly original or interesting but who have the charisma and stagecraft to wow audiences even with dated material (Tom Peters is often brought up as an example of this). It would however be a mistake to consider the entire industry as dependent on only surface effects, as audiences are not quite as naïve as much of the literature suggests. On the contrary, speakers who focus solely on performances without any original material often struggle, and well-crafted content can often elevate an otherwise bland performance. Executive entertainment is entertainment, but it needs to have at least some legitimate claim (even if this is a faked or exaggerated one) to represent management knowledge. A performer thus needs to strike a specific balance between legitimacy and stagecraft, even when the two support each other.