Carrying off the prizes

Seeing this pic on the Thinking Worlds Blog of the team at Caspian Learning celebrating their award for best game or simulation at last Thursday's E-Learning Awards in London (and yes that's Donald Clark there on the left, joining in) reinforced for me just how much fun these events can be, particularly when you're a winner.

Because it's easy to get cynical about these things, I thought I'd revisit an article I wrote on the subject back in 2004, but which seems as relevant today. Sorry if it's a little long ...

At the time of writing, the award season has once again come to a close and entrants are either licking their wounds or polishing their trophies. Having experienced these events for just about twenty years now, it seems fitting to reflect on what they have contributed to the training industry, in particular that branch now rather ambiguously labelled e-learning.

Perhaps a good place to start is to ask why it is that we need award ceremonies at all. After all, haven’t we got enough pressures on ourselves to deliver on the promises we have made to our employers and our clients, without pitching ourselves into the heat of battle with our peers in other training departments or with other providers? Isn’t the very purpose of training to foster collaboration rather than fuel competition? And anyway, how can anyone judge whether one training project or programme is any better than any other – surely it depends on the objectives, on the audience and, let’s face it, the budget?

All good excuses, but all miss the mark. Even if, as was tried in the 1980s, we try and suppress the competitive instinct by having our children play games where everyone wins, we are only delaying the inevitable. The world out there is hard and to be a survivor you have to have the confidence to at least try to be a winner, even if that means that others inevitably lose out. And, as any sportsperson will tell you, competition can be extremely stimulating, not least in its effects on standards, as well as attracting a lot of attention from those spectators who are gunning for one or other of the combatants. We do training no favours by trying to isolate it from the competitive world for which it is charged with preparing the participants.

In fact, there are far more winners than losers in any award ceremony. First of all, the industry as a whole benefits from an annual showpiece that attracts plenty of publicity. The attendees benefit from the opportunity to dress up as if they were at the Oscars, swank around in posh hotels and to let their hair down cheering, drinking and dancing. Of course the organisers benefit too – the more awards on offer and the more nominees, the more tickets they can sell to companies wanting to celebrate their success in front of as many witnesses as possible.

Those who expected to do well but didn’t get the opportunity to make their victory speeches, may be questioning the equity of the whole process. Did money change hands? Perhaps it was a political decision. Maybe it just wasn’t our turn to win. It’s easy to be cynical about how the prizes are awarded, but in my experience serving as a judge at various industry events over many years, there are no scandals to uncover. I have never known an event organiser to successfully prejudice the judges’ decision, nor for the judges to be unduly influenced by political pressures. I’ve seen plenty of plain daft awards, but that’s because judges are human beings and the process is essentially subjective, and because sometimes they disagree with me.

So, should we take training awards seriously, or can we laugh them off as just a bit of harmless fun? Well, there’s no doubt the receivers of awards take them seriously, to the extent that they will issue press releases within twenty-four hours of their hangovers subsiding and then hang the awards with pride in their reception areas. An award may even keep them in a job, by demonstrating to their employers and clients just how favourably they compare within their particular profession.

And don’t doubt that the industry as a whole takes them seriously. I was at a plush do held by the corporate video industry in the late 1980s, hosted by a well-known TV presenter now best known for challenging contestants to win a million. He was, understandably I felt, tempted to snigger a little at the titles of some of the nominations for video awards: ‘Insolvency: Your Opportunity in Adversity’; ‘Meet the JX25A Switchboard’, and so on. Hardly the BAFTAs, that’s true, but Chris Tarrant (for that’s who it was) learned never to make fun of a person’s career. A rather elderly gentleman, much the worse for drink, stormed on to the platform and ranted at the outrage he felt at the ridicule being heaped on his beloved corporate video industry, when they should instead be celebrating a year of outstanding endeavour and achievement by talented and committed professionals. Phew. A couple of minutes after he was escorted back to his seat, the man collapsed and an ambulance arrived to take him to hospital.

It isn’t just the celebs who deserve to dress up and strut in the spotlights. We’re putting in as much effort for much less reward. Let’s enjoy our nights out.