Will a merger save SEG, AAPG and SPE?

Earlier this year AAPG and SPE announced that they are considering a merger.

There’s now a dedicated website to help members follow the developments, but it looks like no decisions will be made before next year, following a member vote on the issue.

In a LinkedIn post from SEG President Anna Shaughnessy earlier this week, I learned that SEG is joining the discussion. This move is part of a strategic review, led by President-Elect Ken Tubman. The new Strategic Options task force will have plenty to talk about.

It seems the pandemic, alongside the decline of petroleum, has been hard on the technical societies — just like it has on everyone. Annual meetings, which are usually huge sources of revenue, were cancelled, and I’m sure membership and sponsorship levels overall are down (actual data on this is hard to find). So will this merger help?

In contravention of Betteridge’s law of headlines, and more in line with classical geophysical thinking, I think the answer is, ‘It depends’.

The problem

As I’ve highlighted several times in the past, the societies — and I’m mostly talking about AAPG, SEG, SPE, and EAGE here — have been struggling with relevance for a while. I’m generalizing here, but in my view the societies have been systematically failing to meet the changing needs of their respective communities of practice for at least the last decade. They have not modernized, and in particular not understood that technology and the Internet have changed everything. Evidence: none of them have functioning online communities, none of them stream their conferences to make them more accessible, none of them understand the importance of open scientific publishing, they all have patchy equity & diversity records, and they all have rather equivocal stances on climate change. The main problem, to my mind, is that they tend to have a strongly inward-looking perspective, seeing everything in terms of revenue.

In summary, and to spin it more positively: there’s a massive opportunity here. But it’s not at all clear to me how merging two or more struggling societies creates one that’s ready for tomorrow.

The catch

The pattern is pretty familiar. Corporations in trouble often go for what they think are big, daring ideas (they aren’t big or daring, but let’s leave that for another time). Acquire! Merge! Fire the COO! Shuffle the VPs! What follows is months of uncertainty, HR meetings, legal nonsense, rumour-mongering, marketing focus groups, and a million-dollar rebranding. Oh, and “a stronger organization that can more effectively address the challenges our industry faces today and into the future”. (Right?? Surely we get that too?)

So there’s a pretty clear downside to survival-by-negotiation, and that’s the absolutely Titanic distraction from the real work — specifically from the actual needs and aspirations of your members, employees, partners, supporters, and the community at large.

There’s also the very real possibility that the organization emerging from the process is not actually fit for purpose. Reading the FAQ in the AAPG/SPE press release doesn’t fill me with hope:

Maybe I’m wrong, but I don’t think most members are worrying about how AAPG can grow its customer base.

The alternative

Now, to be clear, I am not a growth-oriented business-person — and I’m not against big organizations per se. But during the pandemic, size did not seem to be an advantage for technical societies. The cancellation of All The Meetings last year just highlighted how fragile these giant meetings are. And how difficult the high stakes made everything — just look at how AAPG struggled to manage the cancellation process long after it was obvious that their annual convention would be impossible to host in person. Meanwhile, Software Underground’s 3000 members immediately pivoted its two planned hackathons into an awesome virtual conference that attracted hundreds of new people to its cause.

Notwithstanding that things might be at a crisis point in these organizations, in which case some emergency measures might be called for, my advice is to press pause on the merger and dig into the fundamentals. The most urgent thing is to resist the temptation to attempt to figure it all out by shutting a select committee of hand-picked leaders in a room in Tulsa because that will definitely result in more of the same. These organizations must, without delay, get into honest, daily conversation with their communities (notice I didn’t say, ‘send out a questionnaire’ — I’m using words like ‘conversation’ on purpose).

If I was a member of these organizations, here’s what I would want to ask them:

 

What would happen if the organization only worked on things that really matter to the community of practice? All of it, that is — not just your sponsors, or your employees, or your committees, or even your members. What if you connected your community through daily conversation? Emphasized diversity and inclusion? Stood up emphatically for minorities? Brought essential technical content to people that could not reach it or afford it before? Founds new ways for people to participate and contribute — and not just “attend”? What if you finally joined the scientific publishing revolution with an emphasis on reproducible research? Started participating in the global effort to mitigate the effects of climate change? Shone a light on CCS, geothermal, mining, and the multitude of other applications of subsurface science and engineering?

It might sound easier to fiddle with corporate documents, rebrand the website, or negotiate new trade-show deals — and maybe it is, if you’re a corporate lawyer, web developer, or events planner. But your community consists of scientists that want you to support and amplify them as they lead subsurface science and engineering into the future. That’s your purpose.

If you’re not up for that now, when will you be up for it?

 

Are these the heroes we need?

First rule of criticism: balance it with something positive.

Technical societies — AAPG, SEG, SPE, EAGE, and the many others — do important work in our discipline. They publish some quality content, they organize a lot of meetings, and they help attract talent to work in subsurface science and engineering.

The door is wide open for them to play a central role in the change that’s coming to our lives as subsurface professionals.

Second rule of criticism: stick to the facts.

In spite of their central role in many scientists’ professional lives, and the magnitude of the changes that are underway, technical societies have struggled to maintain relevance and therefore members. It’s hard to know the extent of the problem, as AAPG doesn’t report how many members it has (it’s been “approximately 30,000” for years) and SEG stopped reporting numbers in 2017. Make of that what you will.

Anecdotally, many of my friends have let their memberships lapse. I have too.

Third rule of criticism: avoid negative language.

AAPG came up with a couple of cool superheroes. They commissioned some artwork: two fit, handsome geologists, ready for anything. Their names? Trap Mitchell and Alluvia Hunt.

AAPG_Trap_and_Alluvia.jpg

The laudable appearance of a woman — a non-white woman! — in this context rightly prompted praise:

How appalling is it that a geoscientist had to wait 23 years to see a female geoscientist take centre stage like this? I’m embarrassed by that. Kudos to AAPG for that decision.

Kudos which we have to partially revoke, unfortunately. Because the decision, if it was a decision, to change Alluvia’s skin colour in different situations is… well, it doesn’t look good. At best, it’s weird.

Fourth rule of criticism: be honest.

When I saw this dynamic duo, I rolled my eyes. Of course I did: I’m predisposed to criticize the technical societies and I’m a well-known marketing whiner. And as a scientist in Software Underground pointed out, it’s not targeted at me; she also found it uplifting. (Obvious in hindsight, but the whole point of my various privileges is that everything seems to be about me — it’s good to be reminded of our blindspots.)

But I’m trying to be positive here. I rolled my eyes because I think AAPG and the other societies can have a far-reaching and positive impact on our community, and on society. There is hard work to be done finding enough energy and raw materials for people to prosper.


The door is wide open

If AAPG wants to be part of the future, they have to figure out what ‘relevant’ means. Being relevant does not mean:

  • Promoting oil & gas exploration with dysmorphic Barbie & Ken super-hero cartoon characters.

  • Paywalled everything, especially journals and conference papers.

  • Awards named after men and given to mostly men. And don’t get me started on ‘Distinguished’ people.

  • Doing all the other things you’ve always done which have led you to feel ‘not relevant’ today.

I would urge AAPG and all technical societies to consider becoming more relevant in some new ways:

  • Understand that oil & gas, while certainly important to society today, needs to end. The sooner the better.

  • Realize that subsurface professionals can contribute to society, and industry, in hundreds of other ways.

  • See that this change is going to require a massive educational effort, both for us, and for society.

  • Believe that we need to massively broaden our community if we are to have the impact we can have.

  • Remove barriers to knowledge by committing to open access content and open data.

  • Remove barriers to participation by welcoming and representing everyone with equity and compassion.

The days of the hero explorer — tanned and lean, chiselled and serious, whacking stuff with hammers — are gone. Really, they never existed, or at least they were accompanied by a masculine monoculture and a total neglect for the environment.

The future can be different. Ms Hunt and Trap can be part of it. I believe we all can. But it’s going to require hard work, uncomfortable decisions, and abrupt, profound change. The door is wide open for AAPG, SEG, EAGE, and the other technical societies, if they would only notice.


What do you think? Are Trap & Alluvia just a bit of fun that might attract a new generation? Or do our technical societies need a lot more than cartoon heros and heroines? Let us know in the comments.

Get out of the way

This tweet from the Ecological Society of America conference was interesting:

This kind of thing is not new — many conferences have 'No photos' signs around the posters and the talk sessions. 'No tweeting' seems pretty extreme though. I'm not sure if that's what the ESA was pushing for in this case, but either way the message is: 'No sharing stuff'. They do have a hashtag though, so...

Anyway, I tweeted this in response:

I think this tells you just as much about how broken the conference model is, as about how naïve/afraid our technical societies are.

I think there's a general rule: if you're trying to control the flow of information, you're getting in the way. You're also going to be disappointed because you can't control the flow of information — perhaps because it's not yours to control. I want to say to the organizers: The people you invited into your society are, thankfully, enthusiastic collaborators who can't wait to share the exciting things they heard at your conference. Why on earth would you try to shut that down? Why wouldn't you go out of your way to support them, amplify them, and find more people like them?

But wait, the no-tweeting society asks, what if the author didn't want anyone to share their work? My first question is: why did you give a talk then? My second question is: did the sharer give you proper attribution? If not — you are right to be annoyed and your society should help set this norm in your community. If so — see my first question.

Technical societies need to get over the idea that they own their communities and the knowledge their communities produce. They fret about revenue and membership numbers, but they just need to focus on making their members' technical and professional lives richer and more connected. The rest will take care of itself.


Interested in this topic? Here's a great post about tweeting at conferences, by Jacquelyn Gill. It also links to lots of other opinions, and there are lots of comments.

Image by Rob Salguero-Gómez.

What will people pay for?

Many organizations in the industry are asking this question right now. Software and service companies would like to sell product, technical societies would like to survive diminished ad sales and conference revenue, entrepreneurs would like to find customers. We all need to make a living.

I was recently asked this very question by a technical society. However, it's utterly the wrong question. Even asking this question reveals a deep-seated misunderstanding of what technical societies are for.

The question is not "What will people pay for?", it's "What do people need?". 

The leaders of our profession

Geoscientists and engineers are professionals. Our professional contributions are defined by our work and its purpose, not by our jobs and their tasks. This is essentially what makes a professional different from other workers: we are purpose-oriented, not task-oriented. We're interested in the outcome, not the means.

But even professionals benefit from leadership. Professional regulators notwithstanding, our technical societies are the de facto leaders of the profession. The professional regulator is the 'line manager' of the profession, not the 'chief geoscientist'.

Leadership is about setting an example, inspiring great work, and providing the means to grow and make the best contributions people can make. Societies need to be asking themselves how they can create the conditions for a transformed profession, a more relevant and resilient one. In short, how can they be useful? How can they serve?

OK, so what do people need?

I don't claim to have all the answers, or even many of them, but here are some things I think people need:

  • Representation. Get serious about gender and race balance on your boards and committees. There is recent progress, but it's nowhere near representative. Related: get out of North America and improve global reach.

  • Better ways to contribute and connect. Experiment more — a lot more, and urgently — with meetings and conferences. Help people participate, not just attend. Help people connect, not just exchange business cards.

  • New ways to contribute and connect. Get serious about social media. Get scientists involved — social media is not a marketing exercise. Think hard about how you can engage your members through blogs and other content.

  • Reproducible science. Go further with open access, open data, and open source code. Make your content work harder. Make it reach further. Demand more of your authors to make their work reproducible.

  • A bit less self-interest. Stop regarding things you didn't organize or produce as a threat. Other people's events and publications may be of interest to your members, and your mission is to serve them.

Don't listen to my blathering. The AGU and the EGU are real leaders in geoscience — be inspired by them, follow their lead. Pay more attention to what's happening in publishing and conferences in other technical verticals, especially technology.

Pie in the sky is still pie

People will say, "That's all great Matt, but right now it's about survival." I get this a lot, and I sympathize, but I'm not buying it. When times are good, you don't need to do the right thing; when times are hard, you can't afford to. True, all this would be easier if you'd started doing the right thing when times were good, but you didn't, so here we are.

Sure it's tough now, but are you sure you can afford to wait till tomorrow?


I've written lots before on these topics. Suggested reading:

Scientists not prospects

If you've never worked on 'the dark side' — selling technical products and services — you may not think much about marketing. If you work for an energy company, and especially if you're a 'decision maker' (wait, don't we all make decisions?), you may not realize that it's all aimed at you. Every ad, every sponsored beer, every trade show booth and its cute bunnies. The marketers are the explorers, and you are the prospect.

My question is: are you OK with their exploration methods?

The cost of advertising

Marketing futurists have been saying for ages that interruption advertising is dead. Uncurated, highest-bidder, information-free ads, 'inserted' (that's what they call it) into otherwise interesting and useful 'content' do not work. Or at least, people can't agree on whether they work or not. And that means they don't. 

The price of print advertising does not reflect this, however. Quite the opposite. Here's what a year of premium full-page ads will cost you in three leading publications: 

Still not bad compared to Wired ($1.67 million). You start to understand why companies hire marketing people. Negotiating volume pricing and favourable placements is a big deal, think of the money you can save. What a shame ads bring nothing at all to our community. All that money — so little impact. Well, zero impact. 

Conferences are where it really gets serious. Everything has a price. Want to buy 250 gallons of filtrate, I mean 'sponsor a coffee break'? That will be $5000 but don't worry, you get a little folded card with your name on it (and some coffee stains). How about a booth in the exhibition? They are only $23 per sq ft (about $250/m2), so that big shiny booth? That'll be about $75,000. That's before you bring in carpet, drywall, theatrical lighting, displays, and an espresso machine.

No wonder one service company executive once told me: "It's not a waste of money. It's a colossal waste of money." He said they only went because people would talk if they didn't.

Welcome to the oil industry

Walking around the trade show at SEG the other week, we were not very surprised to be accosted by a troop of young women dressed in identical short, tight dresses, offering beer tickets. Where's the beer? At their booth, obviously, about half a kilometre away (Manhattan distance). Apparently the marketing department assumed that no-one in their right mind would visit their booth on the basis of their compelling products or their essential relationships with an engaged and enthusiastic user community. Come to think of it, they were probably correct.

One innovative company has invented time travel, but unfortunately only to 1975. At least, that's the easiest way to explain the shoeshine stand at Ovation's booth. You can imagine the marketing meeting: "Let's get some women in short skirts, and get them to shine people's shoes!" I expect someone said, "Wait, isn't this a technical conference for subsurface scientists, shouldn't we base our marketing strategy on delighting the industry with our unbeatable services?" — and after a moment's reflection, the raucous laughter confirming that yes, the sexy shoeshine stand was indeed an awesome idea.

Let's be clear: marketing, as practised in this industry, is a waste of money. And this latter kind of marketing — remarkable for all the wrong reasons — is an insult to our profession and our purpose. 

Are we cool with this?

Last year I asked whether we (our community of technical practitioners and scientists) are okay with burning 210 person-years of productivity at a major conference and having very little to show for it at the end. 

Today I'm asking a different question: are we okay with burning millions of dollars on glossy ads, carpeted booths, nasty coffee, and shoeshine stands? Is this an acceptable price for our attention? Is the signal:noise ratio high enough?

I am not sure where I'm going with all of this — I am still trying to figure out what I think about it all. But I know one thing: I can't stand it. I will not step into another exhibition. I am withdrawing my attention — which I suppose means that yours is now worth a tiny bit more. Or less.

Update on 2013-10-16 17:10 by Matt Hall

Anyone involved in marketing that has actuallyl read this far without surfing off in disgust might like to carry on reading the follow-up to this post — Do something that scares you.