ORIJINS · GATHERINGS

Conferences exhaust. Gatherings transform.

SushiTech, residencies, founders' dinners, pop-up summits. ORIJINS Events is the deliberate dismantling of the conference-industrial complex — and its replacement with rooms that actually mean something. No sponsor stages. No swag bags. No theater.

SushiTech · Tokyo, May 2026
0 · sponsor stages
· open recordings

$15 billion a year, and nobody remembers anything.

The events industry sells transformation by the lanyard and delivers fluorescent rooms, sponsored panels, and recycled keynotes. People board planes, stand in line, hand out cards, fly home — and could not tell you a single thing they learned. We watched it for years, and then we walked out.

0B / yr
Conference-Industrial Complex
Annual global revenue of the business-events industry — most of it spent on slick stages, sponsor activations, and rooms full of people pretending to take notes. A monument to motion without progress.
Source: Events Industry Council · Global Economic Significance, 2025
0%
Couldn't Tell You a Thing
Share of conference attendees who, two weeks later, cannot recall a single substantive idea from the event they attended. Retention has cratered as production value has soared.
Source: PCMA Convene · Attendee Recall Survey, 2025
0events
B2B SaaS Conferences, 2025
Number of B2B SaaS conferences held in 2025 alone — the same logos, the same panels, the same coffee-break small talk. The industry has stopped producing rooms; it produces clones.
Source: Eventbrite Industry Report, 2025
0% sponsored
Stage as Ad Unit
Share of conference content directly shaped by sponsor relationships — speakers chosen, panels structured, keynotes pre-vetted. The "ideas" on the stage are line items on someone's marketing budget.
Source: PCMA Sponsorship Influence Index, 2025

What if every room you walked into
actually mattered?

— a question we ask before we send a single invitation.

Six formats. Zero theater. Substance only.

ORIJINS Events is not a conference brand. It is a constellation of formats — each engineered for a specific kind of human exchange. Some loud. Some quiet. None for sale.

SushiTech — Flagship Tokyo

Our annual gathering at the intersection of technology, craft, and culture. Five days. Three hundred people. Tokyo in May. A program that reads like a curated playlist instead of a trade show.

// SushiTech 2026 · Tokyo · May 18–22

Pop-Up Summits — 24 Hours

Spontaneous, single-night gatherings. Announced 72 hours ahead, capped at 80 people, never repeated. The cure for the over-engineered conference: an event you almost missed, in a city you almost weren't in.

// 24h notice · 80 people · once

Residencies — A Full Week

Twelve people. One house. Seven days of focused work alongside builders, scientists, and writers you'd otherwise never meet. Phones in a basket at the door. The work that comes out of these weeks doesn't fit in a deck.

// 12 ppl · 7 days · phones away

Founders' Dinners

Twelve seats. One long table. A pre-published prompt that the entire room must answer. Hosted in the home of an ORIJINS member. Phones face-down. Press not invited. The hardest invitation in tech.

// 12 seats · long table · no press

GAIA Attendee Matching

You don't get a guest list. You get three names. GAIA reads what each of you is actually working on, then makes the introductions worth flying for — usually before you arrive, sometimes mid-flight.

// 3 introductions · pre-arrival

Open-Source Recordings

Every talk, every panel, every fireside — recorded in studio-grade audio and video, released free on the public internet. Forever. No paywall. No "early access." If the room mattered, the world should hear it.

// CC-BY · forever · ungated

$3,500 a ticket. Zero recall.

The honest economics of a modern business conference are punishing once you write them down. Then we ask the simpler question: how much would you pay for a single hour of conversation that actually changed how you think?

Avg. all-in cost of a major US conference— ticket + flights + hotel + lost work
$3,500
100% — what you actually spend, per person, per event
Productivity lost per attendee, full trip— ~3.5 working days, gone
$2,800
80% — the time tax, rarely on the invoice
Substantive ideas retained, two weeks later— measured by recall, by the attendee
~0.7
2% — less than one idea per $6,300 spent
Value of one hour of real conversation— with the right three people, in the right room
priceless
The thing every great career was actually built on.

SushiTech 2026 will cost less than a typical SaaS conference, and we will publish — out loud, after the event — what every attendee built, met, or shipped because of it. If we cannot show measurable change, we shut the format down. No theater. No re-runs. No exit.

By 2050, the new model for how humans convene.

Not bigger. Not louder. Just rooms — many of them, on every continent — where the right people show up to do the real work. We grow on the speed of trust, not the speed of marketing.

2026 · May
SushiTech Tokyo — the flagship
Five days in Tokyo, 300 attendees, 0 sponsor stages. The first SushiTech sets the format: morning craft sessions, afternoon long-form talks, evening dinners across the city. Open-source recordings within seven days.
2028
ORIJINS World Tour — 12 cities
Pop-up summits land in Lagos, Dakar, São Paulo, Lisbon, Berlin, Athens, Singapore, Seoul, Mexico City, Bogotá, Vancouver, and Marrakech. 80 people each. Same week, different time zones. The point is the locality.
2032
Permanent ORIJINS Houses — six cities
Standing physical clubhouses in Tokyo, Paris, NYC, Lagos, Singapore, and São Paulo — purpose-built gathering spaces with kitchens, libraries, recording studios, and one extremely long table. Open year-round to members.
2040
One million people, transformed
A million humans have walked through an ORIJINS gathering. Each of them can name three people they met because of us, and one project they built afterwards. That is the only KPI we will ever publish.
2050
The new model for human convening
No more conference theater. The next generation of builders, scientists, writers, and operators learn what a room is supposed to feel like, because they grew up walking into ours. The industrial-event complex retires, quietly, of irrelevance.

Get on the list.

We don't sell tickets in advance. We send invitations. If your work belongs in one of our rooms, leave your name and tell us what you're building. We read everything. We answer the ones we mean.

Invitations only. We say no often.