In 2026, Burning Man attendees don’t have the best reputation. Where once the mind-expanding, clothing-optional gathering in the Nevada desert enjoyed a certain countercultural cool, these days the list of those who openly describe themselves as “Burners” reads like a roll call of the most insufferable people in the world: money-obsessed Silicon Valley tech bros, image-obsessed Instagram models, and Diplo.

The low regard in which Burners are held was made clear in 2023, when rolling storms and torrential rain transformed the annual Black Rock Desert event into a dangerous quagmire. Any initial concern for those in attendance seemed to disappear in a landslide of schadenfreude, with online commentators dubbing it “Fyre Fest 2.0” and falling over themselves to laugh at all the privileged party animals stuck in the mud.

There’s little doubt the event attracts a particularly obnoxious strand of reveler, so it’s at this point I have to make an outré confession: I love Burning Man. Some of the best times of my life have arrived on a bicycle festooned in fairy lights, or on the back of an old bus painstakingly transformed into a giant neon pirate ship.

What can I say? It’s totally unlike any other festival on earth, an art-filled temporary city built not by committees, corporations or commercial interests but by small, dedicated groups of friends sharing their mad ideas with other like-minded freaks. It’s vast, silly, playful, utterly ridiculous and occasionally profound.

Of course, while a philosophy of “gifting” inside Black Rock City renders money meaningless while you’re there, it certainly doesn’t hurt to have plenty of it in the outside world to help smooth your journey. It’s this tension between anti-capitalist ideals and many of Burning Man’s ultra-capitalist attendees that animates the compelling new four-part HBO docuseries The Man Will Burn.

Continue reading at The Independent