In theatre, we know exactly what an empty seat costs.
At 7:30pm, it’s an opportunity. At 7:31pm, it’s lost revenue.
It can’t be recovered. And it doesn’t matter what it was supposed to be worth; once the curtain rises, it’s worth nothing at all.
Lately, I’ve been thinking about how that logic plays out offstage too, especially after a slow, frustrating experience trying to secure office space with WeWork.
Holding for Value vs. Holding for Ego
I was a warm lead: ready to sign, ready to commit to a 12-month lease, even willing to take a bigger space than I needed to allow for growth.
All I asked for was pretty basic:
- A deposit based on the actual agreed rent, not an inflated “list price” no one ever pays
- Setup fees to match the number of desks we’d actually use (not the ones we’d remove as we were under-occupying)
- A fair per-desk rate, in line with everything I’d been offered elsewhere
What I got instead?
- 50+ emails
- Delays
- Handover after handover
- And a flat refusal to flex on anything that wasn’t written in a policy doc
The result?
- The space is still empty
- The revenue is still unrealised
- The relationship is gone
And in theatre, we know: if the seat’s still empty when the lights go down, the value’s already lost.
The Real Cost of Delay
Six empty seats, left unsold for three weeks, would raise eyebrows in any box office.
But in commercial leasing? There’s still this idea that sticking to inflexible policy is a sign of strength. It’s not.
If they’d simply said yes when I was ready, they’d already have:
- Banked the rent
- Locked in a tenant who aligns with their values
- And filled a space that’s still sitting empty now, alongside a dozen others
I’ve worked with venues who moved faster and offered better terms.
Theatre Knows Better
In our world, pricing is a lever, not a liability. We don’t discount because we’re desperate. We discount because we know what time it is.
- Didn’t win the £20 lottery? Here’s a Band A seat for £25.
- Missed Day Seat? Grab a £30 offer.
- Off today? Here’s a TKTS deal for the rear stalls.
From TodayTix lotteries to papering allocations, we’ve built a whole system around targeted, time-sensitive discounting. Used well, it shifts volume, builds buzz, and keeps the house alive.
I’ve used these tools on shows where the goal wasn’t to push Average Ticket Price (ATP), but to hit weekly breakeven, get energy in the room for press, and create a better experience for cast and crew.
That’s not failure. That’s good producing.
Because when a £95 seat won’t move but a £29 one will, we pivot. Knowing when to discount isn’t panic. It’s precision.
From ATP to Occupancy: Read the Room, Then Fill It
More and more producers are shifting their thinking. It’s no longer about squeezing every last penny out of a few premium buyers; it’s about managing volume, timing, and yield.
Smart discounting helps you convert browsers to buyers, fill gaps that dynamic pricing leaves behind, and bring in new audiences without alienating loyal ones.
And we don’t shout about it. We don’t email-blast every offer. We target, we test, we time it.
I’ve worked on shows where £125 stalls seats were sold alongside £25 Band A flash deals, sent to TodayTix rush runners-up who just missed out. It worked. Because it was considered, not scattergun.
And let’s be honest: scattergun sales might fill a few seats for a night, but they don’t build trust. Or long-term audiences. Audience development takes intention. Not panic.
The Lesson for Everyone Else?
If theatre, the most time-sensitive, risk-heavy, and publicly scrutinised art form out there, can discount with strategy and grace, so can you.
Discounts aren’t dangerous when they’re designed. What’s dangerous is empty space.
And if you’re still waiting for a better offer to walk through the door? Just remember: the show’s already started.
James Steel
