This may be a vast overgeneralization (though, let’s face it, some of the biggest fan opinions are just vastly overgeneralized rants), but I have decided that I really don’t like those big, corporate cons. You know the ones: they bring in a slew of big-name celebrities from a ton of different fandoms and then charge people an arm and a leg for photo ops and autographs. After my first, and so far only, single afternoon of trying one out, I’ve made my mind up: they’re not for me.

I’m pretty sure this judgment makes me a hypocrite somehow. After all, I went to this one for the sole purpose of taking advantage of the ridiculous photo op machine that plays such a large role in making these cons unpalatable to me in the first place. Further, I participate in photo ops and autograph sessions at Gallifrey One all the time (though I’ve never had to wait an hour past the scheduled time slot just for the line to start moving at Gally). So what gives?

The big difference, to my mind, is that after a certain size, the con becomes too big for con-goers to feel like anything more than a number to the organization. At a super local, single fandom con like CONsole Room, it can feel like you know everybody there, at least by sight. Gally is nearly a factor of ten larger than CONsole Room, with an annual attendance just shy of 4000 (which includes staff and guests), yet it’s still every bit as much about hanging out with other fans—friends old or new—as about seeing the guests, whether at photo ops, autograph lines, or panels.

Perhaps I’ve been spoiled by those smaller cons, because going to a con another ~6.5 times Gally’s size was officially Too Much™ for me. Aside from the sheer size of the crowds in the exhibit hall, which takes a lot of mental fortitude to navigate for an introvert like me, I didn’t get a sense that anyone else was there for each other. Aside from within individual small groups, like couples, families, or a small number of friends, I didn’t really see anyone chatting with other attendees.

Sure, folks would stop each other to get pictures of the fabulous cosplay, and I’m sure I wasn’t the only one who arranged to meet up with friends who also happened to be going to that con, but it lacked the sense of “we’re all in this together” that I’ve come to expect from those smaller venues. The only “in it together” came from enduring the interminable wait time in a photo op line. But even that fell into the kind of long-suffering eyeroll category of many consumers sharing the experience of getting screwed over by the same business we all chose to patronize.

In other words, it lacked an overall sense of camaraderie I’ve seen elsewhere, and I missed it.

What about the panels? you may ask. Aren’t they worth the price of admission? To be honest, I couldn’t tell you. I’d thought about going to some panels, if time and circumstance allowed, but our purpose was to get our photo, and that took up all the time and energy we had that day. However, based on what some attending friends told me, online videos of panels at other corporate cons, and my own experiences at fan-run cons, the only difference I can discern is access.

I’m actually thinking about access in two different ways here (and it may even be three, if you include things like ASL interpreters or special seating for wheelchair users). The first, most obvious way that “access” is different between smaller, fan-run cons and corporate cons is what guests get booked.

The big advantage of a corporate con is, of course, that they can afford to bring in some of the biggest names in whichever fandoms they choose. This one had a modern Doctor and three modern Companions, four members of the original Star Trek cast and one from TNG, four actors from Guardians of the Galaxy (or five, counting Karen Gillan, whom I already included above) and one from the Marvel shows from Netflix, and a bunch more from other fandoms I haven’t even touched—and that’s just in the “TV and Movie Stars” category.

Inversely, though, a fan-run con gives attendees a different kind of access that the corporate cons can’t touch: a more personal forum. I didn’t check out the size of the hall for the main stage, so I don’t know for certain how it compares to Gally’s, for example, but I’m betting they squeezed a lot more people into the room last weekend than fit into the ballroom at Gally. Again, it’s a matter of feeling like you’re among friends as opposed to being just a number in a massive crowd.

I’m willing to believe that my reasons for disliking a corporate con are specious, and even more willing to believe I’m being a little unfair to base my entire opinion on a single afternoon at one particular con. But despite despite the fun we did have—most especially a photo op my girls and I are bound to cherish—I know where I’m likely to spend my con-going dollars in the future. And those dollars won’t be going to a con-running corporation.