Ruby Hoedown how conferences get made, and attended
pinned under “Speaking”

The review process: how a programme actually gets chosen

The part of a conference nobody sees, and the reason good proposals are declined.

Between a call for papers closing and a programme being announced sits the part of a conference nobody sees: a small group of people reading everything that came in and deciding what the event will be. Understanding how that reading happens is the most useful thing a speaker can know, because it explains why proposals are accepted and rejected for reasons that have nothing to do with quality.

Eighty proposals become eight talks A single-track regional conference receives about eighty proposals, reads about twenty of them properly, and programmes eight. Bar lengths are proportional to the counts. The final places are decided on fit rather than on rank. One single-track conference, one year 80 proposals received first read: 1–2 minutes each 20 read properly clear · real · scoped · not the fourth on that subject 8 on the programme the last places go on fit, not on rank Two good talks on one subject: the second one is declined.
The shape of a single-track review, drawn to scale. The narrow end is arithmetic, not judgement.

Who reads, and how much they read

At a regional conference the committee is three to six people, all of them volunteers with jobs, reading somewhere between thirty and a hundred and fifty submissions in a few weeks. At a large conference it is a formal committee of twenty or more, reading several hundred, usually with each proposal assigned to a subset rather than to everyone.

Both numbers have the same consequence: a proposal gets a first read of a minute or two. It is read properly later if it survives that, and the first read is almost entirely the title and the first two sentences of the abstract. That is not laziness; it is what a hundred proposals in an evening does to anyone, and it is why the title and the abstract carry so much more weight than their length suggests.

Blind, or not

Some conferences strip speaker names and biographies before review; some do not; a few do it for a first round only. Each choice is a trade-off the event makes deliberately.

Blind review removes the pull of a recognisable name and reliably surfaces more first-time speakers. What it costs is the ability to judge whether a person can deliver a difficult subject to a room, which is exactly what a biography is for. Two-stage review is the compromise many events land on: blind for the shortlist, names visible when the final programme is balanced.

For a speaker the practical point is small and specific: if review is blind, a proposal that says “as I described in my book” identifies its author and can get the submission set aside. The call for papers states which model is in use, and it is worth reading for that alone.

What a rubric asks

Most committees score against something close to these four, whether or not they write them down. Is it clear? Can a reader who does not know the subject say what the talk is about. Is it real? Is there evidence the speaker has done this rather than read about it. Does it fit? The audience this event actually has, at the length offered. Is it new here? Not new in the world, but not the fourth submission on the same subject this year.

A proposal can score well on all four and still be rejected, which brings up the part that is hardest to accept.

The programme is assembled, not ranked

No conference simply takes the top-scoring proposals. Once a shortlist exists, the committee builds a day from it: a spread of subjects rather than five talks on testing, a mix of depths so the room is not asked to concentrate hard six times running, a beginner-accessible talk in each part of the day, and at most events now an explicit look at who is speaking.

The consequence is arithmetic, not judgement. A single-track conference has six to eight slots. If it receives eighty proposals, seventy of them are declined, and the last ten decisions are made on fit rather than merit. Two excellent proposals on the same subject means one of them is declined for being second. That is what a rejection usually means, and it is why resubmitting the same talk to a different event is normal practice: see after a rejection.

Timelines, and what silence means

A well-run event states its decision date in the call for papers and holds it. Two to four weeks after the CFP closes is typical at regional scale; longer at large events, where the committee reads in rounds. Silence past the stated date usually means the committee is over-running, not that a decision has been made, a polite enquiry after the date has passed is entirely reasonable, and organisers would generally rather answer it than have a speaker booking travel on a guess.

Questions

How long does a committee spend on one proposal?

A minute or two on the first pass, and much longer on the ones that survive it. That first pass is mostly the title and the opening sentences, which is why those carry disproportionate weight.

Does a well-known speaker have an advantage?

At an event with open review, yes, a track record is evidence that a difficult talk will land. Blind review removes it, deliberately, and reliably brings more new speakers onto programmes. The call for papers says which model the event uses.

Why was a good proposal rejected?

Usually fit. A single-track conference has six to eight slots and may receive ten times that many proposals, and the final choices balance subject, depth and audience rather than rank a score. Two strong proposals on one subject means one of them is declined for arriving second.

Is it acceptable to ask why?

Yes, once, and briefly. Some events send feedback with every decision; most cannot at volume. A short reply asking whether the proposal would be stronger next year is a fair question, and is read as interest rather than complaint.