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"Nobody knows what the fuck is going on," the person says. "With the Black Rock Arts Foundation, until recently, or with Burners Without Borders, if you contributed, you knew what you were getting — it's going to go to this. This is what they do. This is how they make the world better. Nobody has any idea what contributing to The Burning Man Project accomplishes. What do they do with it? How do they help?"
"To be honest, I don't know what The Burning Man Project is," says Miriam Fathalla, an academic studying new cultural movements who was inspired by Burning Man to start an arts-based economic development effort in Jelong, Australia. "I read the website, I read the mission statement, but I don't know what they're doing — and it's been three years! I'm not loyal to Burning Man, I've been inspired by it. And that distinction really seems to be an issue right now."
Indeed, outside of people directly involved in some way with The Burning Man Project, not one person contacted for this article said they understood what The Burning Man Project does, or how it's supposed to advance the culture. Many admit to being demoralized, and fear that this confusion hurts Burning Man's ability to inspire others.
Told this, Burning Man Project leadership admit they have a problem.
"I'm not exactly surprised," says Goodell.
"There's a lot of gray," says DuBois. "The vision is clear to myself and a handful of other people, but no one has ever done this before, so it's difficult."
Here is their vision for The Burning Man Project: In addition to producing the Burning Man event, it will serve as a facilitator for the activities that Burner communities and Burning Man-inspired movements undertake. It will offer everything from expertise and promotion to resources and networking for emerging projects and communities around the world.
But how does that function on a nuts-and-bolts level? They don't actually know. Where other Burners say "It's already been three years, how can you not have a plan?" leaders of The Burning Man Project say "It's only been three years, how can we have a clear plan?"
Says Dubois: "We're still learning as we go. There are a lot of best practices that we have to learn. How contracts should be designed, how we can work with other groups in such a way that everyone keeps their autonomy, when to partner with and when to share resources and when to just offer advice. Every time we take a step, we learn more."
The idea that the Burning Man organization has hypocritically crossed a line and alienated the population is one they've heard before: When Burning Man added roads, when firearms were banned, when a speed limit was imposed ... each time, people screamed that the Man was falling, and each time the culture only grew bigger.
But critics say this time is different: The Burning Man Project's goals are less concrete than simply building roads. Meanwhile, the organization has made several decisions that have been especially controversial. Offering Burning Man-branded scarves as premiums to $150 donors and offering Burning Man tickets to high-level donors strike a sour note among people who have long defended the principle of decommodification.
Critics warn that, if this keeps up, a substantial number of Burners might form their own organizations, inspired by what Burning Man was rather than what it is, and try to change the world on their own.
Burning Man's leadership has consistently responded: "That would be great! How can we help? Do you need support from our new nonprofit?"
Because the truth is that they haven't yet figured out how, outside of San Francisco, ordinary people can fully live their lives as Burners. But they fully believe it's possible. Their idea, their hope, is that someone out on the frontier of Burning Man will figure out ways to make this culture sustainable and scaleable that they haven't thought of yet. They believe that the next generation of big ideas in Burning Man culture that are most relevant to people in Arkansas and Lithuania and China are most likely to come from Arkansas, Lithuania, and China, not San Francisco.
They say that what looks like a lack of leadership is, in fact, an attempt to make San Francisco less dominant and more supportive. And if they actually can help — if they have the organizational clout, know-how, and resources to offer support that people in Indianapolis, Japan, and New Zealand need — then they'll be right.
But they have yet to demonstrate it to much of their community's satisfaction.
If that effort doesn't work — if Burning Man culture doesn't take root in sustainable ways around the world — then Burning Man will likely be remembered as an influential art-party movement. But if it does happen, if Burning Man culture starts to blossom in ways that allow people around the world to live the lives they want, then what happens to Burning Man the event, and its San Francisco organization?
From the Philippines, San Bloch suggests that the party in the desert still has a role to play in the world Burning Man is trying to create.
It will continue to inspire people as a symbol of what is possible, it will serve as a networking and idea-generating opportunity for people who want to live in a "do-ocracy," and — perhaps most importantly — he says it will continue to serve as the ultimate boot camp for world-changers.
"Individuals who can build a whole city and survive have a lot of applicable skills for a post-disaster zone, where you have to rebuild a whole city infrastructure," he says. "Half of our international staff have attended Burning Man, and we actively look for people who have attended Burning Man, because they immediately get what we're doing. They don't come to a disaster area and say 'What can I possibly do?' They immediately start developing the resources we have, and sharing them."
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