Three years ago, I was sitting alone in my apartment, having what I can only describe as an existential crisis. My company was falling apart. I felt stuck. And I didn’t have anyone to talk to.
Out of desperation, I picked up my phone, opened Siri, and asked for help.
After a long, awkward pause, it replied: “Sorry, I can’t help with that.”
That one moment changed everything for me. It made me realize how disconnected technology had become from the people it was built for. We have models with billions of parameters, capable of writing code, composing music, even passing bar exams but we still can’t talk to them like humans.
That gap between intelligence and understanding became the problem I wanted to spend my life solving. That’s how Vapi began. And earlier this year, that same idea took physical form in a way I could never have predicted: VapiCon, the first-ever Voice AI summit.
The Origin of VapiCon
The idea for VapiCon came from a conversation with our sales advisor, Mitch Morondo.
Mitch told me about his time organizing Scale AI - a conference that became the defining moment for their company. He said, “If you want to be the center of the conversation, you can’t wait for someone else to host it.”
It made sense. At that time, Vapi was still young - just a small team with a big vision. We didn’t have a marketing department or a huge events budget. But we had momentum. We had conviction. And most importantly, we had a message that needed to be heard.
So the idea for VapiCon started as a bet. A bet that if we could bring the brightest people in voice technology into one room - we could accelerate not just our story, but the story of the entire ecosystem.
We wanted to create a place where builders, researchers, founders, and dreamers could gather to define what comes next.
It was risky. We were still figuring out our own product direction. We were not yet “enterprise-ready.” But in many ways, VapiCon was the first step toward becoming exactly that.
Almost Didn’t Happen
I’ll be honest - there was a point where I almost canceled it. The math didn’t make sense. We were planning for 1000 people. Flights, venues, logistics, production, speakers. Every spreadsheet said the same thing: don’t do it.
That’s when Nancy, our Chief of Staff, refused to let me back out.
She took charge with one teammate - Maibri - and built the entire thing from the ground up. They wrangled speakers, found sponsors, managed vendors, designed the space, and somehow made it feel effortless.
By the time the rest of us arrived, the conference already had its own heartbeat.
It was beautiful, chaotic, and deeply human - exactly what VapiCon was meant to be.
And when founders started coming up to me after saying things like,
“I’m going to remember this day for the rest of my career.” I knew it had all been worth it.
Standing on that Stage
When I walked onto that stage to give the opening keynote, I felt every ounce of the past three years on my shoulders.
I’d spent weeks preparing - working with a speech coach, rewriting paragraphs, pacing in my kitchen at midnight. But the truth is, the story I was telling was deeply personal.
I talked about being that anxious kid who preferred computers to people. How binary made sense to me when the world didn’t. And how, when ChatGPT came out, I felt another existential shockwave - because suddenly everything in humanity felt digitized, but not humanized.
Voice is our oldest interface. The way we’ve always connected with each other. But somewhere along the way, technology stopped listening and if we can teach technology to listen, we can change everything.
Why VapiCon Mattered
VapiCon wasn’t just another industry event. It was our line in the sand.
For the first time, every major voice AI leader - from OpenAI and Deepgram to Assembly AI - was in one room.
We were sharing philosophies. We were defining the rules of what “human interfaces” could mean for the next decade.
It was the moment our abstract thesis - that voice is the next interface shift - became real.
On a practical level, it was transformative for our business too. We invested around $500,000 in putting the event together and made about $400,000 back.
But the real return was in the ripple effect that followed - new partnerships, new enterprise conversations, and a clear shift in how people saw Vapi.
We were the company at the center of the voice ecosystem.
And in between sessions, we were literally closing deals in the back rooms. That part makes me smile while I write this
What It Gave Us
But beyond the ROI, VapiCon forced me to do something I hadn’t done in a while - step back and define our mission out loud.
I had to ask myself: what are we actually building here?
We’re building a world where every business can sound, feel, and behave like a person.
Because the alternative - screens, forms, dropdowns - has stripped humanity out of our daily interactions.
Voice brings that back. It carries warmth, hesitation, joy, irritation, everything that makes us real.
VapiCon reminded me that technology should meet us on our terms, not the other way around.
The Afterglow
When the lights dimmed and the last speaker walked off stage, I remember standing in the back of the hall, exhausted and overwhelmed. It felt like a full circle moment.
Three years ago, I couldn’t even get my phone to listen to me. Now, 850 people spent a whole day talking about how we can make technology truly listen to all of us. We had kicked off a movement. One that would shape how we interact with the world for decades to come.
The Movement Lives On
And that’s why I’m so excited about what comes next.
We’ve just launched the VapiCon Video Library - every session, every panel, every conversation that sparked something new.
You’ll hear from the builders and thinkers who are literally shaping the next interface era - people solving for latency, emotion, memory, and meaning in machines.
If you were there, it’s your chance to relive it. If you weren’t, it’s your chance to catch up on what made VapiCon so special.
Watch the VapiCon Video Library →
Thank you,
Jordan
