You Want Builder Relationships? I Found 70,000 of Them in Orlando.

Last month I attended the International Builders’ Show as part of Design & Construction Week. I expected scale. I packed my comfortable shoes and expected grand booths. I expected a lot of square footage and a lot of noise.

What I didn’t expect was the realization that hit me before we even landed.

On the flight to Orlando, the aisle filled with teams in matching company T-shirts. Prominent builders. Recognizable logos. Entire crews traveling together like they were heading to a championship game. They weren’t trickling in solo. They were mobilized. Coordinated. Energized.

And as I watched them settle into their seats, I had one very clear thought:

These are the exact relationships AV integrators keep telling me they want.

Architects. Designers. Builders. Developers. The people who influence projects before technology is specified. Before budgets are locked. Before “we’ve already chosen someone” becomes the polite brush-off.

And they were all going to the same place.

When we talk about the International Builders’ Show, we’re not talking about a regional gathering or a niche conference. IBS is part of Design & Construction Week, which in 2025 brought together more than 124,000 attendees, nearly 2,500 exhibitors, and over 1.2 million square feet of exhibit space. IBS alone draws more than 70,000 professionals from over 100 countries and offers more than 120 education sessions.

This isn’t a side event.

It’s the largest annual light construction show in the world.

If you’re serious about relationships with builders and specifiers, this is the room.

And yet, as I walked the floor, sat in sessions, and moved through networking events, one thing was obvious: integrators were there, but not in force. Not in proportion to the opportunity. Not in the numbers you’d expect from an industry that consistently says it wants earlier involvement in projects.

What surprised me most wasn’t the scale. It was the access.

Yes, the booths are massive. Yes, the product innovation is impressive. Yes, I saw a $20,000 toilet.  But the real value lives in proximity. In education sessions where architects openly discuss workflow challenges. In panels where builders debate what should be standard in tomorrow’s homes. In demo zones where categories are explored without the filter of “this is just AV.”

And then there’s the culture around it.

The IBS House Party, which feels more like a city block celebration than a trade show event. The Young Pro Party, where the next generation of decision-makers network over music and drinks. The closing concert that sends everyone home feeling less like they attended a conference and more like they were part of something bigger.

These moments aren’t fluff. They’re frictionless. Business rarely starts with a formal pitch. It starts with familiarity. With shared experience. With a conversation that feels human before it feels transactional.

That’s what I saw happening everywhere.

As I moved through the week, a few things became impossible to ignore.

Builders move as teams. They travel together, debrief together, strategize together. When they find partners they trust, those relationships ripple across projects. You’re not chasing one opportunity. You’re entering an ecosystem.

Conversations don’t wait for formal introductions. They start in coffee lines. On shuttle rides. Between sessions. The environment is built for collision. If you show up, you are constantly within arm’s reach of someone shaping a project months before it hits an RFP.

And the education is revealing. With more than 120 sessions, IBS is essentially an open forum where builders and designers articulate the exact friction points integrators solve. Infrastructure coordination. Energy systems. Lighting integration. Reliability. Scalability. They’re talking about it without you even prompting them. That’s not just networking. That’s strategic intelligence.

The bigger realization, though, was about timing.

Most integrators compete downstream. You fight for line items. You defend scope. You explain why infrastructure matters after design decisions are already made.

IBS is upstream.

It’s where specifications are shaped. Where communities are envisioned. Where developers decide what becomes “standard” in future builds. The influence happens long before a rack is installed.

If your growth strategy includes earlier involvement, stronger specifier relationships, or expanding into higher-end residential work, this isn’t an optional detour. It’s alignment with where influence actually lives.

There is tremendous value in industry-specific events where integrators connect with peers. Those rooms sharpen you. They calibrate you. They help you stay competitive.

But IBS is a different kind of room.

It’s where the people who initiate projects gather in force.

And here’s the uncomfortable part.

If you keep telling me you want better relationships with architects, designers, and builders, but I didn’t see you in a room with 70,000 of them, then we have a strategy gap.

You can’t outsource relationship-building to hope. You can’t wait for referrals to magically appear. And you can’t complain about being brought in late if you’re only showing up late.

Leadership means stepping into rooms that weren’t built specifically for you and making your value clear anyway.

On that flight to Orlando, watching those builder teams rally around their companies, something clicked.

The room already exists.

The conversations are happening.

The decision-makers are accessible.

If earlier involvement is truly the goal, if stronger specifier relationships are really part of your 2026 plan, then the International Builders’ Show isn’t a curiosity.

It’s leverage.

And next year, I hope I see more of you there.