I’d like to start this out by making it very clear who I’m talking about, or rather, who I’m not talking about.  If you have a panel slot, and you also have a legitimate reason to not be present for your event, go, take care of it, you have my blessing.  The following is not meant to apply to you.  Also, this is kind of a long post, so there’s a convenient TLDR at the bottom if you can’t be bothered to read it all.  Are we clear now?  Good, then let’s get to work.

I’m bored, which means that I feel like rambling on about something.  People who have been doing panels for a long time might have noticed a steady shift in policy.  Conventions are universally moving toward having us pay for badges and then paying us back after the convention.  They’re clamping down on panelists in the months prior to the con, asking for proof that we have actually worked on our panels.  Some are even requiring us to physically tell them we’re going to run our panels, shortly before we run our panels.

I hear the next step is to insert chips into the back of our necks.

This is not to say those are necessarily bad ideas.  Panelists should be able to be held accountable.  In addition, this increase in communication makes sure everyone is on the same page as to procedure and scheduling.  I know I’d certainly like to know when my primetime Saturday event gets rescheduled to Friday at 5.

Mostly so I can stab the programming director in the face.  Several times.  With a machete.

I will also say, that some of these procedures are getting kind of ridiculous.  Ohayocon, I’m looking at you.  You’ll be lucky if I’m out of my bed in Indiana at 10 AM, let alone at the convention at that time.  And while it’s an amazing concept, a lot of people tend to work or go to school on Fridays before a convention.

You can sleep easy though, I always show up for my first panel.  As far as you know.

While some of this movement can be attributed to ideas of questionable quality, another portion comes from an entirely different area.  People who don’t show up for their panels, and people who don’t prepare properly for their panels.  In other words, you people have done screwed up.  Now, for the latter group, I might be doing some posts on planning a panel, and splitting my focus is way too much effort at this hour, so you’re off the hook.

I’m putting you On Notice, though.

The former group is the subject of this post.  I know where the idea comes from.  You tell the convention you’ll do a few panels for them.  They give you a badge.  Then you just go about doing whatever you want while getting into the convention for free.  No one will really care, it’s just some stupid panel right?

Well, you’d be right if your panel is on Legend of the Galactic Heroes.  But I digress.

No, that’s not the way you should look at it at all.  Sure, you benefit yourself immensely by this, but you’ve messed it up for everyone else.  I mean that literally, everyone is affected by that, even if it’s indirect.  We’ll break this down into four areas, to simplify things a bit.

I figure if you’re the kind of person doing this, you need all the help you can get.

The System

So far, this has more or less been the entirety of the post.  The policies are changing, and in some ways its quite inconvenient for the people who actually perform.  To illustrate, we’ll look at Colossalcon 2008.  I have no idea of their policy prior to that, but it was somewhat jarring to some of my friends that they had to pay for their badges, and then would be compensated later.  Now some of you might be thinking, “It’s just $30 dollars or so, what’s the big deal?”

Well, not everyone goes to a convention to spend $200 in the Dealers Room.

In all seriousness though, $30 and up to $50 at the top end is still a pretty good chunk of money to spend.  When you consider that you generally get three or four badges at a time while paneling, it adds up quickly.  The bottom line?  I put up money for three badges, so some of my friends who were panelists could get their badges, do their events, and then pay me back on Sunday with compensated funds.

It makes me wonder if they needed that money for some immense Legend of Zelda trading quest.

Staff

They have to work year round to keep the convention running, and that 48 hours on site can be a nightmare.  They always claim to be under a lot of pressure, and being on the inside of that curve, it’s an understatement.

Terapascals are not even a sufficient unit of measure.

You know that sometimes they snap and they yell and they get overall frustrated over things.  While such behavior is unacceptable, we also have to accept that it happens.  Well, when you don’t show up for a panel, that’s one more hour of “What the hell do we do NOW?” that you’ve added to the Staff’s plate.  Sometimes, it might even come down to a staffer doing some humiliating song and dance number fill the slot.

While that might be entertaining, we really don’t want to send another person to the psych ward.

Panelists

Granted, you’ve already screwed with the panelists by forcing the system to change.  However, that apparently wasn’t quite enough for you.  You see, some people like to hear themselves speak, especially on subject material they’re passionate about.

Personally, I like to see myself write.  Shock and awe, I know.

Taking up that panel slot and then skipping out on it might very well prevent someone from being able to present their panel.  Granted, some of these panels won’t be the best attended events in the world.  You know what though?  If you want to get up in front of a handful of people and get excited over Banner of the Stars, who am I to stand in your way?

Actually, I might end up being the entire audience.  But that might be pretty cool for an hour.  Right?  …Right?

Attendees

The way you end up messing with your fellow convention attendees is similar to the way you mess with other panelists.  Just like panel hosts like to hear themselves talk, attendees like to hear other people talk.  Some of them might even be eager to attend the panel you have no intention of running.

Give me my Banner of the Stars panel, you jerk!

This is the place that the invisible panelist hurts himself the most.  The system doesn’t really bother them, because they’re already working outside of it.  The staff isn’t likely to ban them from the convention.  Obviously they don’t care about their fellow panelists.  However, when people find out you’re the guy who keeps skipping out on your panels, you’re going to lose respect real quick.  Getting that back might take you years.

You might as well just shoot yourself in the foot, at least then you’ll have an excuse.

At the end of it all, skipping out on panels isn’t some innocent little stunt you can do to save a few bucks.  It affects people across the board.  When that idea somehow crosses your mind, I implore you to kick it to the curb.  Let’s work to keep conventions fun and enjoyable for everyone.

TLDR: If you sign up for a panel you have no intention of running, this might happen to you:

And really, after that, you’re just not gonna have a very good day.