One Thursday in May, I was sitting in a slightly delayed train, heading home from Düsseldorf after three days of meeting good friends and making new ones at beyond tellerrand, my friend Marc Thiele’s wonderful conference. As usual, after visiting a conference, and beyond tellerrand in particular, my head was bursting with ideas and creative energy. I would feel the same way again a few months later, after visiting Smashing Conference in Freiburg.

There’s something magical about walking into a conference venue in the morning. The hum of first conversations, the smell of coffee, the anticipation, and the smiling faces. And the unspoken feeling that we all belong here, that we are here for the same reason: because we care about the same things and we all have, in some way or another, built our lives around the Web.

A lot of us spend the majority of our days in front of a screen. We have online conversations and collaborate with people from all over the world. We read each other’s blog posts and social media rants. But behind every line of code, behind every post about the latest CSS tricks, behind every talk and video tutorial, there’s a real person. A person with a story, with struggles, with a life. And a few of those people are now here at the conference. That’s when you realize: the Web isn’t just a bunch of servers and websites. The Web is the people building it. The Web is community.

That’s what’s so invaluable about conferences, about in-person events in general. They are like a cheat code, like a magic door – you enter, and suddenly, you find yourself on the inside of the conversation. The faces, the names, the people behind the blog posts – they become real. And you stop feeling like just being an observer of the Web community. You are now a part of it.

Sure, there are amazing talks that blow your mind and leave you inspired. You come to learn new things, to hear about the latest tricks, and get fresh ideas. But let’s be honest: you could probably watch a talk online or read a blog post. The real value of in-person conferences lies in what happens between the talks – in the conversations you have, the people you meet, and the friends you make.

The real value is in walking up to someone you’ve only ever known from the internet and finally asking that question that’s been bugging you since you watched their talk. It’s in that moment when you bump into someone and go, “Wait, I know your face! Didn’t you write that article about dialogs and popovers?” Or when you finally meet a collaborator in person after years of working together remotely. Sometimes, it’s also in making sure everyone gets back to the hotel safely after leaving that Metal Pub. That’s not “networking” – that’s community. And community also always means opportunity.

To really bring that point home: I attended my first conference in 2015 — the Berlin edition of beyond tellerrand — and I remember it like it was yesterday. For the most part, I just stood off to the side during the breaks, watching people chat. A lot them already seemed to know each other. I knew nobody. The few conversations I had were quick exchanges in the coffee line. (Thanks, ilithya! 😁)

Ten years later, I find myself standing on stage at beyond tellerrand Düsseldorf, looking out at a sea of faces, some of them now friends, mentors, and collaborators. The same kind of room that once made me feel like a (curious) outsider has become a place where I really feel I belong to that community.

Conferences and meetups are going through a tough time right now. Many disappeared during and after the pandemic, as Henri Helvetica pointed out in a recent, wonderful podcast conversation with my frontend friend Kevin Powell (remember talking in person about kids, cameras, and brewing your own beer at CSS Day last year, Kevin?). Part of it might be due to a lack of visibility in a more fragmented social media landscape after the boring CEO killed Twitter. But a lot of it also has to do with companies spending less for education and thus smaller conference and travel budgets.

As a freelancer who’s paid out of my own pocket for every single conference trip — hotel included — unless I was speaking, that feels incredibly short-sighted. Because when you’re sending your people, your teams to conferences, you’re not just buying them some “knowledge”. No, you’re investing in something much more valuable. You’re helping them come back as more inspired, more connected, more curious, and more engaged members of the community. And yes, that’s something that can’t be measured or reported back, I’m afraid. But here’s the thing: you might notice that spark in their eyes when they come back to office and start talking about that new component they can’t wait to design and build.

If you need to convince someone – your boss, your team, your family, or also yourself – then explain that going to a conference isn’t just another trip away from “real work.” No, this is the real work: investing in your craft, your connections, your growth. And if you’re a freelancer and can afford it, see it as one of the smartest investments into your future you’ll ever make.

So, pick a conference that looks interesting and go. Be curious. Listen. Speak. Ask questions. Make new friends. Show up and be part of this wonderful community. Because the Web needs you. The community needs you. Because, just like conferences, you’re the lifeblood of the Web.

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If you’re in Berlin in November, get your ticket for beyond tellerrand now.

If you are looking for more places to go, the wonderful people running State of the Browser have put together a great list of in-person and online events and places where you can meet the web community: https://2026.stateofthebrowser.com/communities/

And if you want me to speak at your event, don’t hesitate to say hello via email.

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This is post 11 of Blogtober 2025.

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