A mud-bath of privilege and radical affirmations? A Burning Man regular responds

Jo Holley has been to Burning Man seven times.

Jo Holley is a wahine Māori from Gisborne who has been to Burning Man seven times. This week, after the event was flooded by torrential rain, many asked why is the show allowed to go on in an era of climate change-driven extreme weather and is it just a playa for the privileged? She shares her experience.

Why would more than 80,000 humans traverse to the middle of nowhere to gather in Nevada’s Black Rock Desert, once a 51,800 hectare prehistoric dry flat lakebed, and create a temporary metropolis covering 2300 ha?

If you haven’t set foot on the playa, shared deep conversations with a burner or immersed yourself within the community at one of the many regional burns, or global events, and your sole information source is social media, it’s understandable it might seem daunting or unappealing.

Since its inception in 1986, the event has transformed from a small gathering of free-spirited individuals who sought escape from the constraints of mainstream commercialised society. These pioneers laid the foundation for the event’s 10 principles, emphasising Radical Self-Expression, Radical Self-Reliance, Decommodification, Immediacy, Leave No Trace, Radical Inclusion, Communal Effort, Civic Responsibility, Participation and Gifting.

Now a global phenomenon, Burning Man welcomes all walks of life.

But is it truly inclusive? Burning Man has attracted its fair share of myths and misunderstandings. At its heart, it is the celebration of inclusion, diversity and communal effort and, as a community, it’s about actively seeking ways to break down barriers, both financial and social.

If you’ve ever been deterred by notions of exclusivity, I will say this: I’m a wahine Māori from Gisborne, and I’ve got myself there seven times.

Also, Burning Man is NOT a festival, nor should it be referred to as one.

It’s a community and cultural movement. It’s a gathering of humans like you and me with a common desire to participate. It’s an ecosystem that pushes boundaries, fosters growth. There’s no corporate sponsorship, like many festivals. Instead, people contribute and through creativity, collaboration, connection. And the city comes alive.

Jo Holley, from Gisborne, at Burning Man.

Burning Man attracts some of the world’s top thought leaders, spiritual guides, entrepreneurs, change-makers, creative visionaries, spiritual seekers, artists, creators, tech gurus, explorers, and celebrities. But everyone is equal. It is a safe space where people can have open and honest dialogue, and where people can be themselves. It doesn’t matter what you do for a living, or what material possessions you have.

Burning Man has grown over the years, so too has the conversation about diversity and inclusion. Is the crowd a composite of society or is there a sense of privilege? Have patrons changed since its inception? Is there a sense that what was once radical is now mainstream and is far from the genesis of it?

What I do believe hinders people from coming is access. To be able to get to the event from your destination. To get time off work. To be able to escape responsibilities for a week. To be able to afford it. The journey toward diversity and inclusion is a work in progress, reflective of the larger conversations happening around the world.

It’s great to see more people of colour represented through art, working within the organisation, cultural awareness workshops, affinity theme camps, performances and attending as burners. Improvements have also been made to enhance the experience for those facing accessible barriers that limit their experience.

Some say Burning Man caters only to a specific demographic - the wealthy, artistic, and the so-called “cool kids”. And now a melting pot for social media influencers. It’s true that some attendees may have more resources and that many others come with minimal budgets. It’s what you bring to the playa and what matters is how you participate.

Everyone, regardless of financial status, uses the public transport - aka the burner bus - and tickets are gifted to others.

Yes, there is a change in the type of person attending and an influx of “virgin burners” (a term for new to the playa). But even if it is your goal to just to get that photo on the playa, then bring your vibe, and get ready to be awakened, because you’ll leave with a different view on what’s important in life.

There has been an increase in “plug and play” camps where privileged attendees fly in for a few days and have everything set up for them from chefs cooking their meals, bikes delivered to the playa, accommodation provided, personal photographers. These camps have been swiftly removed.

Burning Man is about survival, overcoming the struggles and getting things done yourself. You have to be resilient and realise that life is not just about the “great or easy times”. This year’s burn is a testament to remind us all that one must be prepared for anything and everything. You bring everything including food, tools, medical, shelter, clothing and supplies. You roll up your sleeves and muck in.

Humans love to come up with our own story, share something online in the spur of the moment or elaborate what we’ve heard on the grapevine without having been there in that experience ourselves. The grapevine connecting Black Rock City and the world is non-existent in many aspects, especially if you are a veteran. Society is unplugged. The majority of what occurs at Burning Man is not shared online. Being the reporter of your experience goes out the window.

With the introduction of Starlink, some are still connecting with the outside world - but at its true essence, Burning Man is all about disconnecting to completely immerse yourself and connect on the playa.

It is an ever-changing, morphing culture. It will never be what it was, nor will it be what it is in this present day.