I’m writing this fresh from the Trade Association Forum Awards in London last night. It was, by any measure, a very good event. Well organised, well run, and thoughtfully delivered. But above all, it was a genuinely good experience. That matters more than we sometimes acknowledge. I attended both as a guest and as a sponsor, which always provides an interesting dual perspective. When an event works through both lenses, you know you are doing something right.
It prompted me to reflect on what actually makes a good awards night. At their core, awards exist to highlight and reward exceptional levels of service and product delivery. They are a shop window for best practice, a way of elevating standards across a sector, and an opportunity to recognise teams who often work tirelessly behind the scenes. Done well, awards create pride, motivation, and a genuine sense of belonging within a professional community. They can strengthen relationships, inspire others, and reinforce the values an organisation or sector wants to champion.
However, awards can also lose their way. One of the most common traps is assuming that profit should be the primary objective. Of course, awards need to be financially sustainable, and no one is suggesting they should operate at a loss. But when entry fees and ticket prices become excessive, you risk excluding the very organisations whose work most deserves recognition. For SMEs in particular, entering an award can represent a disproportionately high marketing cost once entry fees, attendance, travel, and accommodation are factored in. Those costs can quickly consume a meaningful share of a small business’s budget. Yet some of the most innovative and impactful work often comes from these smaller teams. Financial accessibility is not simply a nice-to-have; it is fundamental if the awards are genuinely intended to celebrate excellence across a whole sector rather than just those who can most easily afford to participate.
Transparency in judging is equally important. Clearly published criteria give entrants confidence that submissions will be assessed fairly and consistently. Sharing who the judges are helps reinforce credibility and avoids the perception of bias. When people understand how decisions are made, they are far more likely to accept the outcome, even if they are not the ones collecting the trophy. Awards should feel robust and principled, not opaque or arbitrary.
The choice of host also has a significant impact on the tone of the evening. A light touch is almost always more effective than an overly theatrical approach. There can be a temptation to secure a well-known name, but fame alone does not guarantee a good awards host. In reality, the majority of people in the room are there because they are shortlisted, supporting colleagues, or celebrating peers. They are not primarily there to meet a celebrity. The most successful hosts are those who can read the room, keep the energy up, maintain pace, and ensure the evening moves smoothly without making themselves the focal point. Over the past couple of years, I have particularly enjoyed seeing, and in some cases working with, Lucy Porter, Nish Kumar, and Ben Hanlin. They each bring a different style, but what they have in common is an ability to engage an audience while understanding that the spotlight belongs to the finalists and winners.
Beyond the stage, the overall experience plays an equally critical role. Food quality and seamless service should never be underestimated. If guests are waiting too long between courses, if the room layout is awkward, or if service feels disjointed, the energy in the room can quickly dissipate. However strong the shortlist, people tend to remember how the evening felt. The atmosphere, the pacing, and the attention to detail all contribute to that memory. As I have written before in the context of catering decisions at events, inclusivity and quality need to sit side by side, rather than one undermining the other.
It is also worth challenging some long-held assumptions about format. Does an awards ceremony have to be in London? Does it have to be a formal sit down dinner? Does it require a professional MC, or could someone from within the community, who genuinely understands the audience, be a more authentic and engaging choice? Rethinking these conventions can open up creative possibilities and help shift the focus from process to experience. When awards become formulaic, they risk losing their sense of occasion.
Finally, there is the question of scale. Limiting the number of awards is one of the simplest ways to maintain energy and prestige. Ten awards is often ideal. Twenty begins to test the patience of even an enthusiastic audience. Once you reach thirty, you have almost certainly lost a significant proportion of the room’s attention. Focus creates momentum. Scarcity enhances value. An awards night that feels tight, purposeful, and well paced will leave guests energised rather than fatigued.
At their best, awards should feel celebratory and meaningful. They should reinforce the values of a community, showcase excellence in a way that feels fair and accessible, and create an experience that people are proud to be part of. When that balance is achieved, commercial success tends to follow naturally.
Now, I suspect the next award I need to win is for best coffee consumption this morning…