This is the shift. Event-based marketing is no longer an add-on, the seasonal garnish on top or the little festive hat you put on your main offer to make it look busy. It’s the engine.

And when I talk about event-based marketing, I don’t mean just cramming your calendar full with events. I mean marketing everything: your attraction, your experiences, your retail, your events, as if they were all events in themselves.

The Association of Cultural Enterprises' monthly Commercial Performance Barometer, which tracks hundreds of venues, shows programming has been one of the most consistently cited drivers of strong performance since the summer. Not “we posted more on Instagram.” Not “we refreshed the signage.” Programming. Moments. Actual reasons to leave the house.

For most of 2025, the sector didn’t exactly feel like it was floating gently upwards on a cloud of discretionary spending. For many, admissions were down from 2024 for much of the year as consumers were squeezed, suppliers were squeezed, and the national mood became essentially, “Have you seen the price of olive oil?”

Then December arrived, and suddenly venues across the UK reported their best festive trading since COVID, with some even calling it their best Christmas ever. Which is interesting, because the economy didn’t suddenly improve and nobody announced that the cost-of-living crisis was cancelled due to popular demand.

What changed was programming. December didn’t perform because attractions got shinier, it performed because they got sharper and gave people a reason to go now.

And it makes sense, doesn’t it? Nobody wakes up thinking, “I’d love to visit a heritage site today.” They’re thinking about what to do during the holidays, whether there’s something on, or if this will stop the children from climbing the walls for at least forty minutes.

People don’t buy visits, they buy memories and the feeling that this day out is not just another vaguely educational walk past a gift shop, but something that actually matters in the calendar.

Of course, there’s a catch. Footfall alone is no longer the whole story. One of the more uncomfortable insights from the Barometer is that higher admission volumes don’t automatically translate into higher spend overall. Some venues saw visitor numbers rise, only for spend per visitor to fall sharply. Which is the commercial equivalent of throwing a great party and discovering nobody bought a drink at the bar. Busy isn’t the same as profitable, and in 2026 attractions can’t afford to confuse the two.

The future isn’t just about getting people through the gate. It’s about designing programming that supports the whole experience, including what happens once they’re inside.

This is where Easter becomes interesting, because frankly, it’s not about the bunny. It’s a commercial moment. This year it lands early, right at the start of the school holiday, which means the Easter weekend is basically the opening act. Families will still be looking for things to do long after the chocolate has been located, consumed, and weaponised.

So the question isn’t “What’s our Easter trail?” but “What’s our spring moment?”. The smartest attractions are already moving beyond literal Easter branding into broader, more flexible themes like spring adventures, fantasy creatures, nature quests, and dinosaurs instead of rabbits. Nobody has ever said, with genuine excitement, “I can’t wait to experience a moderately priced egg hunt.” They want something that feels like a story.

I will caveat all of this by saying the Easter weekend itself is the exception, especially if you’re a farm park. Go big on that weekend, then send them home.

Now, looking at the data, the best-performing programming tends to share some common DNA. It’s emotionally resonant. It’s on-brand. It attracts audiences who want to spend, not just attend. It has retail-friendly subject matter, which is a polite way of saying people are more likely to buy something if the experience has given them a feeling worth taking home. In other words: the moment has to land commercially as well as culturally. Admissions without spend is just… busier.

Booking behaviour has changed too. People book later now because they want flexibility and reassurance, and to see if it’s going to rain or shine.

So event marketing has to be paired with a smarter booking strategy, not panic discounting or “20% off because it’s Tuesday,” but urgency without stress. Moments that feel scarce, valuable, and easy to say yes to. I will keep banging on about hotel pricing: cheaper if you lock in a date, pricier for flexibility, and of course, all prebooking is cheaper than buying on site on the day. Find out if your ticketing system can do this, because most can.

The deeper point is this, always-on marketing still matters. Your digital advertising needs to be seeing good returns, search still converts brilliantly, and Meta is prime for baseline awareness and sales. All of this is still important, but peak periods reward specificity. Visitors respond to moments rather than messaging, to stories rather than timetables. They want something that feels like it’s happening, not something that is merely open.

Attractions don’t need more rides, they need more moments, because the evidence is already there. December surged because programming surged, and the strongest commercial outperformance came from event-based marketing where emotionally resonant, on-brand experiences drove both footfall and revenue.

Easter isn’t the answer, it’s the example. The opportunity is bigger than one weekend, one bunny, one laminated trail. So build moments, tell stories, and make it easy to say yes. That’s where growth is coming from in 2026.