“Fancy coming along?”
That’s the easy bit. It’s everything after it that’s given me weeks of grief, because every time I try to explain what “it” actually is, I hear the same voice in my head: “Oh really? Sorry, I’m washing my hair.”
Not because I don’t want people to come. Quite the opposite. It’s because I know exactly what those words can sound like: another networking event, another room full of people introducing themselves with their job title before they’ve told you anything that matters, another evening where everyone claims they’re just there to meet interesting people while quietly working out who might become a client.
If that’s what this is, I’ve completely misunderstood what The Third Half is trying to do.
We’ve spent more time thinking about this than almost anything else we’ve done this year: how do you bring interesting people together without creating one of those events? Somewhere along the way we’ve managed to commercialise nearly every human interaction going. Networking breakfasts, networking coffees, networking walks, networking runs, networking drinks, and now, God help us, networking padel, because apparently even hitting a small yellow ball with your regional sales director needed a value proposition. The implication is always the same: every conversation has to earn its keep, every handshake needs an ROI, every coffee should lead somewhere.
That leaves me cold. I’d rather finish the game, have a pint afterwards, and find out what actually makes someone tick. Not what they do. Who they are.
There’s an irony in all this that isn’t lost on me. Some of the most important people in my life arrived through what you’d technically have to call networking. Clients became collaborators, collaborators became friends, ideas became businesses, conversations changed careers. But none of it started because either of us turned up intending to network. It started because we had a conversation worth having.
Here’s another confession: I’m not organising this because I need more friends. I’m lucky, I already have more good friends than I deserve. What I want is for good people to find each other. For someone wrestling with an idea to meet someone who’s wrestled with it before. For an entrepreneur to meet an artist, a teacher to meet a technologist, a campaigner to discover they’re not shouting into the void. For someone to leave thinking they hadn’t looked at it like that before.
That’s why we’re having an anniversary gathering. There’ll be live music, good cheese, and a glass of something if that’s your thing. And I hope there’ll be the sort of conversations that remind us why getting people together still matters. No speed networking, no awkward icebreakers, no pressure to work the room. Just a bunch of curious, decent people spending a couple of hours together.
If you leave with a new client, great. But if you leave having discovered a brilliant charity, a new band, a fresh perspective, or simply a bit more faith in people, I’d call that a far better return on your evening.
So here’s the actual invitation. Third Half Live is happening on 25 August, at The Flēot, just off Fleet Street. It’s a green skills hub, which felt right for what we’re trying to do. We’ll have around fifty people there. The Ferm are involved somehow, there may be samples, there may even be doggy bags, honestly the whole thing is organic and still evolving as I write this. Tickets are on Luma, and if you’ve been part of this from the start, you’ll hear from us first.
Come for the music. Come for whatever food situation we land on. Come because it’s the first time we’ve all been in a room together after a year of this being mostly a thing you read or listen to. Just don’t come to work the room.
If all we’ve created is another networking event, we’ve failed.