Every year I walk into IBS with the same optimism. This is the year, I tell myself. This is the year I’m going to sit in sessions that change how I think about housing, construction, and business. This is the year I’ll hear something so practical and useful that I’ll be scribbling notes like a college freshman the night before finals.
And every year, by lunchtime on day one, I’m wondering if there’s a quiet hallway where I can sit and regroup.
Don’t get me wrong. IBS has some outstanding speakers. But, as my fairy godmother used to say, “You’ve got to kiss a lot of frogs before you find your prince.” And at IBS, there are frogs of every shape, size, and PowerPoint color palette.
Let’s start with the first group. These are the speakers who know their product or service inside and out. They’ve built it, tested it, refined it, and in many cases, they genuinely believe it will help the industry. The problem is that their 30-minute session is really just a disguised sales pitch.
You know the type. The talk starts with “industry challenges,” moves quickly into “unique solutions,” and ends with a QR code and a special IBS discount. Halfway through, you realize you’re not attending an educational session. You’ve just walked into a live commercial.
The audience politely nods. Some even take notes. But deep down, everyone knows what’s happening. The real question is not whether the product works. The real question is whether anyone in the room will actually remember the session after their next cup of coffee.
The second group of speakers is much more passionate. These folks care deeply about their topic. Zoning reform. Workforce development. Sustainability. Missing middle housing. Pick a subject, and there is someone who has devoted years of their life to it.
These sessions can be inspiring, but they often turn into something else entirely. The Q&A portion becomes a stage of its own. Some audience members genuinely want answers. Others seem determined to test whether the speaker knows as much as they claim. It becomes less about learning and more about intellectual arm wrestling.
You can almost hear the mental dialogue. “Let’s see if this expert can handle my question.” Meanwhile, the rest of the audience just wants to know how to build a house faster, cheaper, and without losing their sanity.
Then we arrive at my two favorite types of speakers. And when I say favorite, I mean the ones that make me quietly exit the room before anyone notices.
The first is the scholar. This person has devoted decades to research. They have charts, graphs, and percentages for everything. They can tell you that 37.2% of homeowners prefer something over something else. Why 37.2%? Who knows? But it sounds impressive, and nobody questions it.
The problem is that by slide number six, the audience has mentally checked out. The room is full of builders, developers, and factory owners who haven’t had their second cup of coffee. They didn’t come to IBS for a graduate-level seminar. They came for ideas they can use on Monday morning.
The scholar, however, is in full stride. More charts. More graphs. More percentages. The audience nods politely while secretly wondering if there’s a donut break coming soon.
The final group is the one that fascinates me the most. These speakers include notes and credits for their facts and figures at the bottom of every slide. The font is so small you would need a telescope to read it.
Honestly, they could be quoting MAD Magazine, and nobody in the room would know the difference.
There’s something oddly comforting about this. It reminds me that in every industry, we sometimes take ourselves a little too seriously.
Now, before anyone sends me angry emails, let me say this. There are truly great presentations at IBS. Sessions that are engaging, practical, and memorable. Speakers who tell stories, share real experiences, and admit their mistakes. Those are the sessions people remember. Those are the ones that actually change behavior.
The common thread among the best speakers is simple. They don’t try to impress. They try to help.
They speak like real people. They use examples instead of percentages. They tell stories instead of showing charts. They focus on what the audience needs, not what they want to sell or prove.
And when you find one of those sessions, it feels like striking gold.
So next year, when you attend IBS, go in with realistic expectations. You will hear some sales pitches. You will see some charts that make your head spin. You will sit through at least one session where you question your life choices.
But if you’re patient, and willing to kiss a few frogs, you might just find a prince.
And that one session could make the entire trip worthwhile.
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With more than 10,000 published articles on modular and offsite construction, Gary Fleisher remains one of the most trusted voices in the industry.
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