The Pull of Tomorrow
A well-designed event doesn’t just optimize for engagement in the moment—it creates anticipation for the next moment. You know you've done it right when:
- At midnight, attendees are reluctantly calling it a night—not because the energy is gone, but because they don't want to miss tomorrow.
- The social atmosphere is so compelling, the connections so serendipitous, and the interactions so effortlessly magnetic, that rest becomes strategic—not a withdrawal but an investment.
- Even the hungover attendees—the ones who would normally skip a morning session—are dragging themselves out of bed, rallying with a shower, a slice of toast, and a desperate cup of coffee, because they know the day ahead will be worth it.
This is not about forcing energy late into the night or overstuffing the agenda. It's about designing with enough social gravity, narrative continuity, and emotional stickiness that the fear of missing out is not a gimmick—it's a natural byproduct of quality.
Design for that.
If Alcohol Is Doing the Work, the Design Isn’t
This isn’t an anti-alcohol rant. Some of the most memorable moments at events do happen over drinks. A first DEF CON badge. Two strangers becoming fast friends at the bar. That can be beautiful.
But if alcohol is the only thing holding the social experience together, that’s not magic—that’s a red flag.
You want people to be able to drink if they choose, but not need to drink to connect. If the only bonding happens after-hours because the daytime programming lacked soul, energy, or interactivity, then the event is failing to do its job.
You don’t want attendees skipping sessions because they’re hungover and don’t care. You want them skipping drinks because they care too much about tomorrow.
Design That Earns Anticipation
You can’t fake anticipation. You have to earn it.
The best events build an arc. Something starts on Day 0, builds on Day 1, and pays off on Day 2.
- A team formed during a workshop is presenting something live.
- A game reaches its final level.
- A surprise reveal.
- An interactive result only available to people who were part of it.
- A moment that won’t be recorded—because it only works in the room.
Now attendees aren’t waking up for a “panel.”
They’re waking up for a moment they helped create.
When you earn that kind of emotional investment, people adjust their energy naturally. They’ll sleep when they can. They’ll be there when it counts.
Interactivity Makes Attendance Matter
Here’s one practical way to raise the stakes of being in the room: make it interactive.
If a session is just a lecture, people will skip it.
If it’s a live challenge, a collaborative experiment, a decision-making moment—they’ll show up.
Interaction creates tension.
Participation creates memory.
And the simplest signal of importance is this: “You had to be there.”
Even if the slides go online later, it won’t be the same.
Momentum Doesn’t Require Uniformity
Not everyone will make every session. Some people will be out until 4 a.m., catch sunrise breakfast, and rally for one key thing before crashing. That’s okay.
You’re not designing for uniformity.
You’re designing for intentionality.
When people choose how to spend their energy—because they care about something unfolding—you’ve succeeded.
It’s not about attendance. It’s about momentum.
Make It So Good They Don’t Want to Miss a Moment
That’s the whole point.
Make it so good they don’t want to miss a moment.
Even if that means they barely sleep.
Even if they crawl to the shower with a pounding head and one clean shirt left.
Even if they skip the party—not because it wasn’t great, but because tomorrow might be better.
That’s the pull of tomorrow.
Design for that.