The Diversity and Inclusiveness Beat is running a mini-series called “Why I Support the Virtual APA.” This post marks the third of four installments. The mini-series was organized by Colin Marshall, who serves as Program Chair for the 2026 Pacific APA.
Like most people, I have mixed feelings about virtual conferences. On the one hand, I miss my philosophy friends and I want to see them in person, not just in a Zoom chat. I don’t like juggling online conference participation with classes that I didn’t cancel. It’s annoying to watch people struggle to share their slides. On the other hand, I also don’t like giving up my weekend to fly to a conference. I don’t like feeling pressured to go to all the talks when I really just need a nap. It’s hard choosing which two conferences will use up my whole year’s research budget. And I don’t want to be part of something that directly contributes to catastrophic environmental damage.
Thinking back, I’ve probably dealt with much less hassle and annoyance at virtual conferences than at in-person conferences, but it stands out—I think because I’m less used to it. At an in-person conference, I’ve made and heard comments like: “Oh man, my flight got cancelled and I had to fly at 6 a.m., got stuck in traffic, and missed half my session. At least we’re not at that APA that got snowed in and the conference imploded. Anyway, what’s going on with you guys?” At virtual conferences, I’ve made and heard comments like: “Oh man, my session! The first speaker took eight minutes past the start time to get his slides going. Then he didn’t talk into his mic. It was so painful. I hate virtual conferences. I’m never doing this again!”
I feel the same way about the finances: virtual conferences have unfamiliar cost schemes and they feel expensive to me. In-person conferences often cost $1000-2000 per attendee: hundreds of dollars for travel, hundreds for lodging, hundreds for food, plus registration and incidental expenses. Virtual conferences can be free, but they can also cost $100-300 for registration. $100-300 seems—so expensive! Why pay that much money just to comment on someone’s paper?
Some of the resistance to virtual conferences can be traced to a kind of psychological and social inertia or conservatism. But some of it is a response to real logistical, social, and psychological challenges. My experience of virtual conferences is an experience of growing pains. The thought of going to an in-person conference in the first ten years of in-person conferences is a little terrifying. So much of what we’ve figured out to do would not have been thought of yet! Virtual conferences are in that phase. We’re still wrestling with the problem of setting up opportunities for informal conversation outside organized sessions, or a structure that facilitates and incentivizes attending the entire conference rather than attending bits between normal class times.
Those are the areas I would most like to see us focus on. Experiments are underway. Minorities and Philosophy has started hosting a MAPpy Hour on Gather.Town at each virtual APA. Sally Haslanger has a Let’s Meet in the Lobby project that brings prominent philosophers into informal conversation with other attendees in a kind of virtual hallway. A while ago, Simona Capisani and I organized two large virtual conferences (with 100-200 attendees) that people seemed to like, and we wrote a piece called Community Building in an Online Conference, discussing experiments with the use of music and self-selecting breakout rooms for hangouts. People can feel skeptical or excited, but no one really knows what kinds of solutions will be found.
It’s worth trying. Many international, parenting, poor, disabled, and other people cannot come in person at all, and the earth’s climate is in crisis. So it makes sense to explore alternatives and try to find solutions.
It might feel rude to mention that large amounts of flying contribute directly to catastrophic environmental effects that are making parts of the world uninhabitable. But it’s true, and worth reiterating. When I really take that in, I’m much more willing to experiment with virtual platforms.
I think the growing pains are also dying pains. In-person conferences will never die. But the idea that we can go on running only in-person conferences, without disastrous consequences, is dying. I wish it would die faster. I doubt it will last more than 10 or 20 more years, since there is a preponderance of evidence of environmental damage and more people are gradually absorbing it and starting to act on it. But the dying pains are painful, and the growing pains are painful, too. This is a good time to be part of the solution by attending some virtual conferences, most of which are already more inclusive and vastly cheaper than in-person conferences. But the problems are real, and worth thinking about.
I see two good strategies for nurturing the growth and easing the pain. First, outside philosophy, climate organizers often advocate for a “fast and just transition” to renewable energy or other sustainable practices. I would love for philosophers to also think about a fast and just transition to sustainable conferences. The transition should be fast, but also just. Since holding only virtual conferences is not an option that most scholarly communities are likely to accept, it can help to focus on alternating between in-person and virtual events, and exploring virtual options.
Second, since virtual conferences are more sustainable and accessible but also often more lonely and depressing, I would love for the organizers of every virtual conference to put some explicit discussion into making the conference fun. Can there be music? Can there be a fun, cute reception? (Minorities and Philosophy’s Gather.Town space is professionally appropriate but also extremely cute.) Can there be a space for participants to cook dinner together if they want to? Can someone do something just a little bit unprofessional that will help everyone want to be there? There is a lot to explore and a lot of room to grow, but a little more fun can make the growing less painful.
Eugene Chislenko
Eugene Chislenko is an Assistant Professor of Philosophy at Temple University. His main interests are in moral philosophy and moral psychology, and in related topics in the philosophy of mind, philosophy of action, and the history of philosophy. He founded Philosophers for Sustainability with Rebecca Millsop in 2019.
