The paradox embedded in Burning Man is that some of the highest values of this community are anarchic in nature (ie rejection of top-down aesthetics, embracing radical self-expression and self-reliance, etc). It's interesting that the Romantic movement shared so many of the same paradoxes. Terry Eagleton's suggestion that "if the movement is divided against itself, it is largely because it is both a product of middle-class society and a protest against it" reminds me of the oft-observed fact that Burning Man draws so much talent and money from Silicon Valley. In that respect, Burning Man is both a product of techno-capitalism and a protest against it. In so far as capitalism is in logical conflict with the idea of community, the fastest way for Burning Man to sell itself out to capitalism is to turn its back on the communal experience. There are those who argue that capitalism and community are not logically opposed. But since capitalism views human beings as atoms of rational self-interest, it will always tend towards the erosion of community. Given that capitalism is so pervasive, it's hard to believe that something like Burning Man could survive 10 years without selling out. It would be possible for the culture to remain community-driven, so long as participants continued to hold the values of gifting, participation, etc. The danger is that if it ever becomes clear that the Burning Man organisation is profit-driven, many participants would find their motivation for community-building erode. Burning Man, like any other society, depends on an implicit social contract, and once that contract is broken, it's very difficult to put Humpty Dumpty back together again. The debate at the Nowhere regional event in Spain one year over the setting up of a farmer's market is instructive. The Board of Nowhere rejected one participant's suggestion of setting up a virtual farmers' market where participants could pre-pay for fresh, locally-grown produce to be delivered daily to the campgrounds. The suggestion was rejected on seemingly indisputable grounds. Pre-paying amounted to a violation of the anti-commodification principle, even if the money wasn't physically exchanged during the event. Even more convincingly, it was argued that participants would be deprived of the benefits of having to source their own food, and therefore would not learn the deep lessons of self-reliance. It was also pointed out that although the project was sold as a farmers' market, the goods available for purchase included such non-farm products as bottled drinks. The Board said that they would not accept the project unless modifications were made to bring it more in line with the festival's principles, which are the same 10 Principles as Burning Man's. Faced with these arguments, participants of Nowhere rallied around the Board's decision, at least in online forums leading up to the event. The ideals involved are admirable, and worth protecting. However, it's apparent to the casual observer that there is a certain inconsistency in the Board's decision. It is already a common feature at Nowhere that participants can pay to camp with a number of "Barrios". These are the equivalent of theme camps. The Barrios effectively pool everyone's money, and make purchases on their behalf. The food deliveries are made by a local supplier on a daily basis. At the Barrio which I stayed in, there was food and water provided, and even fresh beer on tap every day. It is hard for me to see the difference between the Barrios, which have complete acceptance at Nowhere, and the proposed farmer's market, which was rejected. These inconsistencies come up fairly often at Burning Man, and it might be presumed that they are all unavoidable features of "governance". After all, there is no such thing as a perfect "government", in the sense of one which makes for a unanimously satisfied constituency. Invariably, a decision will piss off one group or another.