Fyre Festival and Baudrillard
For the last week or so, a lot of people on social media have been posting about the new Netflix and Hulu documentaries on the Fyre Festival. You know, that “luxury” music festival for rich kids that turned out to be nothing but a total shit show. I’ve seen some people in Facebook philosophy groups claiming that this festival is “Baudrillardian”. There have been comments like “Fyre is this generation’s gulf war”, “The Fyre festival documentary on Netflix is Baudrillardian to the core” and “Baudrillard would’ve loved showing how this music fest was pure simulation”. Being the Baudrillard fan that I am, these comments caught my curiosity, so, last night, I sat down and watched the Netflix documentary. Personally, I don’t think there’s much about this failed festival that registers as Baudrillardian. Let’s explore this.
I guess the people who find it to be a good example of the Baudrillardian, simulatory non-event à la the Gulf War would reason in the following way: Fyre Festival was nothing but a simulation constructed out of a series of social media images — it had no real referent in the objective world. The “event” was merely the advertisement and the Instagram posts made by supermodels and influencers about the festival. Okay, sure, we can view it that way. Indeed, we can say that the festival was only the ads (representations) for it. The official Netflix poster highlights this with its tagline: The greatest party that never happened. However, I still think this barely counts as Baudrillardian. If it is, then it is certainly a boring, unimpressive instance of simulation. As far as I can tell, there is nothing profound about it. I imagine Baudrillard wouldn’t have even wasted any of his time analyzing it. “Nothing to see here, folks. Move along.”
There is a fundamental difference between the Gulf War and Fyre Festival. Back when the Gulf War had just “happened”, hell, even nowadays, if you were to go up to a random person and ask, “Did the Gulf War really take place?”, they would immediately respond, “Well, of course it took place! It happened back in the ‘90s.” Now, go ask someone if Fyre Festival took place. If they know about it, then they’ll quickly say, “Hell no! That’s exactly why it’s famous”. The Gulf War was a far more confused and distorted “event”. The lines between real and imaginary were totally blurred in it insofar as the “real” war and the media coverage (representation) of it are fully intertwined. Both simultaneously cause and influence the other, which means that there is neither a real referent nor an accurate representation. The “real” war was some kind of electric fog. Neither real nor representation — pure simulation. The clearcut distinction between real and imaginary breaks down. To this day, most people think it actually happened, which means the lines are still blurred all these years later.
Were the lines ever blurred in this same way in relation to Fyre? Isn’t it just a matter of plans falling through? Doesn’t it boil down to something quite easy to chart? Some rich motherfuckers, one in particular (Billy McFarland), planned some lavish shit they really intended to make happen, they advertised it on social media, some kids got sold a dream, the logistics got all fucked up and didn’t work out, the organizers got in way over their heads, the event didn’t happen, fraud occurred and some rich kids are still pissed off about it. Where’s the elaborate simulation that blinds us to the disappearance of the real as such? “The Fyre Festival did not take place.” Well, no shit, Sherlock! Duh! There’s nothing even remotely counterintuitive in this proclamation (that’s a big clue). No metaphysical categories are distorted in this case. In fact, ironically, this could be argued to be a remnant of the real, that is, a situation in which we are still capable of employing basic ontological distinctions without much trouble at all. If all simulation amounts to is failed plans, a discrepancy between the actual future and the plans (representations) we have for it, then there’s nothing profound about simulation. But, of course, this is not what Baudrillard was getting at with his concept.
Now, someone might say that this event was simulation for those who bought tickets and flew to the Bahamas expecting a luxurious experience. However, the moment they saw the “accommodations”, they immediately knew they had been fooled. They weren’t confused at all about the state of affairs. I mean, the little white tents and shitty cheese sandwiches are about as real as shit gets. However, is this any different than going to a movie that gets cancelled right before showtime due to a mishap with the projector? I think not. The funny thing is that if there is a simulatory aspect to Fyre, then it is precisely Baudrillardians (or Baudrillard fans) claiming that it involves simulation — that is the simulation. Fyre Festival qua simulation did not take place.
Towards the end of the Netflix documentary, one of the main organizers of the festival claims that Fyre really was the photoshoot for the ad. Someone might go, “See! Fyre was a simulation after all.” The idea is that Fyre was actually the photoshoot for the advertisement of the planned festival. This is stupid. I mean, I get why the guy in the movie says this, but I don’t get why a Baudrillardian would argue that this makes Fyre a simulation. Again, when it comes to the categories of representation, nothing is broken here. Sure, someone can say that the photoshoot was the Fyre festival, but that’s not really the case. Fyre was the intended music festival and it not did not take place. The photoshoot was not a music festival. The photoshoot itself wouldn’t even qualify as a festival (at least, not in the way we use the word). It was just a small group of rich people hanging out and making an ad for a planned event. There’s nothing simulatory about this. Claiming that “Fyre” refers to a photoshoot instead of a planned music festival simply involves giving the signifier “Fyre” a new referent. At first, it was used to designate a planned music festival that did not take place (referent 1) and now it’s used to designate an actual photoshoot that did take place (referent 2). The signifier shifts from referencing a potential good time (music festival) to an actual good time (photoshoot). Holy shit! What an elaborate simulation! All joking aside, this is very easy to keep straight. This is basic semiotics. This is nothing like Baudrillard’s examples of the Gulf War, Disneyland, Watergate, etc. You might need nothin’ but a good time to make a simulation — but not in this case.
To me, the most profound takeaway from this is not anything about the failed festival itself. That’s all too easy to comprehend. Instead, it is that those of us who appreciate Baudrillard’s concepts need to use more discernment when applying them. Just because something does not actually take place does not necessarily make it a simulation. Look, our current world is permeated with simulation. It’s everywhere. Due to this fact, it is very easy to run Baudrillard’s concept into the ground. By overusing it or misusing it, we neutralize its explanatory power. A power that we need more than ever. We need to reserve the concept for those simulatory “events” that seem to commonsense to be the most real of the real. The most sure and indubitable. Disclosing how these sorts of “realities” are mere simulations packs a theoretical punch. In the age of simulation, it is crucially important not to simulate simulation.
