The real tragedy outside Burning Man

It seemed like one giant tragedy, this year’s Burning Man, as heavy rains turned the annual counterculture event – held at the usually scorchingly hot Nevada desert – into a seemingly giant muddy trap.

I would have been one of the 70,000 or so stranded Burners this year because I was part of a group that had planned to set up a Filipino camp at Black Rock City, that ephemeral town that sprouts up like magic every year for the nine-day festival.

As it turned out, however, I had to miss this year’s event because of conflicts in schedule. St. Michael, giver of rain, must have protected me from the chaos that would descend on the playa after a month’s worth of rain drenched the usually sun-baked desert, said a colleague. 
It’s hard to heave a sigh of relief though, knowing that tens of thousands of attendees were stranded. The initial photos and videos that emerged were alarming, as alarming as when we hear of stories of natural calamities ripping through a place and putting people in danger.

Which is why I don’t understand the discourse that followed; some even laughed at this year’s attendees, saying these “elites” finally got what they deserved after years of “partying” in the desert.

I couldn’t agree more with American journalist Lee Fang, part of this year’s stranded Burners, who voiced his sentiments against the distorted views on Burning Man. Like him, I found the criticisms bizarre and almost laughable. I am not a veteran Burner and neither am I a fanatic, but as someone who has been there and has had an immensely incredible time, I find all the hatred misplaced.

Tech billionaire Elon Musk, a Burning Man regular, captured it well in a post on X last week:

“Burning Man is unique in the world. Hard to describe how incredible it is for those who have never been. Best art on Earth.” Yes, it’s easier to blabber against it.

But to laugh at others’ dire situation is the worst kind and it says a lot about where we are now.

This, to me, is the real tragedy in our world today. There is so much hatred and toxicity going around.

And I suspect, all these hatred, messianic delusions and ‘saviorism’ which continue to spread like a deadly virus, may actually be among the reasons why people keep coming back to Burning Man in the first place – to escape the chaos that has descended into our world today, even for just a few days.

Fang summed it well: “Most of the hate is tiresome and speaks more to the pathologies of the critics than to anything about the event itself.”

True enough, as I experienced last year, being at Burning Man is like walking into a dream. It’s a feast for the senses as art and music collide.

Strangers are amazingly kind; almost a fantasy land of sorts and if you think it’s the playground of the rich, it’s actually anything but. Everyone, rich or poor, grapples with the same extreme conditions – whether it’s a sand storm, extreme heat or heavy rains. Money doesn’t count while you’re there; the economy works on barter. You can trade a beer for a kiss or whatever you can offer. Strangers will help you if you need help and dance the night with you if you’d like that. The egalitarian culture is contagious and the principles of radical self-reliance, de-commodification and radical inclusion, etc. are inspiring.

While some see it as one giant 24/7 party with sex, drugs and rock & roll, it hit me more as an intense spiritual experience similar to a religious pilgrimage or an African safari.

As Fang said, there’s an anything-goes ethos but there are also communal rules rooted in shared responsibility. “It is a model of the kind of high social trust that progressives often valorize in social-democratic countries. If you see trash, you pick it up. If you find someone who may not be having a good time, even a stranger, you comfort them.”

In fact, he said, this year’s stranded Burners trudged through the mud to keep things going and to help each other out. The festivities resumed when the rains stopped.

Burning hatred

But again, this is not just about Burning Man or its haters.

It’s really more about how the world has degenerated into one big toxic universe filled with haters and hatred – from online bashing to racial slurs to political extremisms or road rage incidents with a gun-toting ex-policeman.

Social scientists are trying to find out why. UCLA, in fact, has an ongoing extensive research on the increased expressions of hate in the world and how it manifests in the brain, online or in communities.

In stark contrast, Burning Man allows you to slip into a thin membrane in this universe and takes you away from all the hate and toxicity, even for a moment. It’s an inclusive community where human connections are so intense they’re almost tangible.

I don’t know if life will ever take me back to Black Rock City but for sure, I wouldn’t be scared to take that arduous and seemingly endless trip again to the middle of nowhere.

The real and scary tragedy, after all, is outside Burning Man, here in our everyday world that has become more virulent and hateful than ever.

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Email: [email protected]. Follow her on Twitter @eyesgonzales. Column archives at EyesWideOpen on FB.