If you’re part of Web3, odds are you’ve spent much of this year traveling abroad. It’s likely you just got back from a conference if you’re reading this. Maybe you’re at one while reading this now. Regardless of where you’re based, you’ve likely hopped from one international conference to another. Over the years, these events have stretched across the United States, South America, Europe, Asia, and might soon make it all the way to Antarctica with the pace of how it’s going now. Around each major gathering, hundreds — soon thousands — of side-events pop up (the recent Devcon in Bangkok featured more than 700).

It’s the reality of working in this space: relentless travel and endless panels. But let’s be honest: it’s time to reconsider the conference circuit.

This isn’t to say all conferences are useless — some, like Consensus, ETHDenver and others, are valuable. But, spending an entire year bouncing from one event to the next is hardly a recipe for adoption. If it were, we’d have more to show for it than empty crowd shots and panelists answering their moderator’s questions to vacant seats. Some photos which got more attention than entire side events. While it makes sense for a decentralized industry with no central hub to meet up in person, it’s become a running joke: even people based in the same city often have to meet at a conference halfway across the world. It’s neither efficient nor sustainable.

It’s true that, for now, most networking in this space happens at conferences, and until a central industry hub emerges, that will likely remain the case. But collecting a handful of new Telegram contacts and snapping selfies with promises to reconnect doesn’t compare to having focused time at home to create real value. The reality is that most of those chats become a graveyard of forgotten messages, never evolving beyond the initial promise to “connect after the conference.” And unless there’s some sort of return you can quantify every quarter for all the cost then it doesn’t make sense.

Will mass adoption really come from panels where everyone agrees, speaking to rooms with mostly empty seats? And of those in attendance, how many are there simply to reinforce the same views? All this, financed by a “pay-to-play” model that rewards stage time over genuine merit, leaving little room for truly innovative ideas to spread. Instead, it creates an echo chamber where fresh perspectives are rare, and real differentiation of thought is almost nonexistent.

Even worse, how many more parties do we need to attend where some large DJ act that doesn’t know or care about the industry comes to play a set when bull runs are in effect? Isn’t anyone else tired of this? Isn’t anyone else thinking how much money is being wasted?

Currently, it seems the primary goal is to become the most influential crypto company or figure — within the crypto world itself. But with finite funding, even for well-funded companies that have or haven’t launched their tokens, it’s worth re-evaluating the cost-benefit of this approach. If it were truly effective, would we be facing a reality where chains with multi-billion-dollar market caps struggle to attract even single-digit daily active users? It’s harsh but it is also necessary to look at it through this lens.

First, even the best-staffed teams in crypto are lean compared to traditional corporate setups. If these teams are meant to focus on driving adoption, who really benefits when we pull large portions of them away, covering $1,000+ conference tickets, flights, hotels, daily stipends for food and transport — and worse, the lost hours spent traveling, multiplied by their pay? In all honesty, the only true product-market fit this industry seems to have found is in hosting events.

Next, let’s talk about the money poured into the hundreds of side events held alongside each main conference. At Token2049 in Singapore this past September, there were nearly 600. Renting out hundreds of venues, finding sponsors, arranging keynotes and panels — all while an expensive main event is already in progress — only spreads the audience thin, leaving rooms empty and diminishing any real engagement. At best, we get photo ops that let us feel important, convincing ourselves that sharing a nice-looking stage with peers is an achievement. In reality, it’s a vain exercise, serving no one but the egos of those on stage.

In any industry aiming for credibility, leaders are expected to evaluate their spending — what’s being spent, why, what it achieves, and what the returns on those spends are. So, if crypto wants to be taken seriously, why aren’t we asking the same questions? Right now, all of this is propped up by venture capital and token launches — both limited resources. Even as Bitcoin nears an all-time high, companies like ConsenSys are laying off 20% of their staff and dYdX laid off 35% of their staff just this week. So, what exactly is the purpose of this conference circuit?

This isn’t to say we should avoid conferences altogether. But is it logical to spend an entire year on the road, jumping from event to event? Shouldn’t Stripe’s acquisition of Bridge serve as a wake-up call? What was that team doing to achieve the largest and most successful acquisition in our industry to date — by a non-crypto-native company, no less? Stripe saw the potential in this space and took a forward-looking step that might actually lead us toward mass adoption.

If we consider all the money spent on conferences each year and redirect even a portion toward innovative onboarding strategies, we’d be far better off. Let’s experiment with explaining our ideas simply to the users we claim would love and use our tech. Otherwise, we risk remaining in a category seen as a passing fad — until real use cases with real users finally emerge.

Note: The views expressed in this column are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect those of CoinDesk, Inc. or its owners and affiliates.