Pride’s not just a party - it’s a movement

September 2024 By Simon Williams, PinkUk.

Why the UK’s leading Pride festival needs to choose its partners carefully but we shouldn't boycott it.

PinkUk delves into the debate on the commercialisation of Brighton’s Pride festival, one of the UK’s largest, and explores how we got here, suggesting the experience may have lessons for Prides around the world.

Last year we ran an article about the origins of Brighton & Hove Pride in the 1970s; how activists in Brighton helped lay the foundations for what we know as the global Pride movement today. The festival is now one of the largest and most celebrated Pride festivals in the UK with more than 500,000 people in normal years thronging every August to the South coast city, often nicknamed the UK’s ‘gay capital’. A Dog Show and a Winter festival also usually take place each year. Last year was its 50th anniversary measured from its first fully-formed event in 1973, organised by the Sussex Gay Liberation Front, which gives you a clue about the event’s roots.

We thought we'd fast forward and take a look at the festival now, specifically at some of its interesting community politics. There seemed to be more than the usual rainbow flag-waving and proud parade presence from community groups, businesses and public services even for a city that hardly ever has a dull day in its colourful political and community life.

This year felt as though there was a lot more politics in the small ‘p’ community sense of the word, with calls from some Brighton activists to boycott the festival. What's happened in Brighton could have some lessons for the Pride movement more widely and for other festivals around the world.

What did we take away?

First… a lot of discussion about what Brighton & Hove Pride should be ‘about’.

So who should be involved in it and the role of the big brands as sponsors. For years, some activists have been saying that it’s time Brighton Pride renewed its community roots; suggesting that the festival had lost its way and, if changes were not made, it should be boycotted, the argument went. This chorus has grown louder as the cost of tickets, travel, accommodation, and, well, the most important thing of all, the price of a pint of lager has jumped year by year. This ‘commercialisation’, critics argue, should make you blink with astonishment when you think of the movement's humble origins born of protest and liberation.

We understand that sentiment. The prices from entry tickets to the various enclosures, for accommodation and public transport are now beyond many people's pockets. That’s even with Brighton Pride’s ‘early bird’ release of concessionary tickets throughout the year and a low income ticket scheme. Yet the festival still pulls in the punters and it’s a major diary and trading date for the city’s hospitality businesses.

Second… Should it be about cash? Have we lost some of Pride’s spontaneity, its ‘Pinkness’ and grass roots energy in the quest for profit?

In 2024, the festival was forecast to bring in £22 million to the city’s economy. Before you cheer, it’s not just a positive. It pushes the event ever more into the arms of businesses and those whose primary interest is the bottom line. To put it delicately: some of the business community may have other things on their mind; they may not have the original grass roots passion and determination to advance and defend LGBTQ+ equality of the original pioneers in 1973 - all the while our rights are still at risk or still to be achieved, notably for the Trans community.

On the positive side it helps to keep the city buoyant economically, provides a lifeline to many smaller, independent businesses and the opportunity for Brighton to showcase what it does best: offer people a fabulously Pink weekend by the sea. It helps community groups, too. Organisers say around £1.3 million has been paid out to good causes in the last eight years, since the current management took over the festival in 2016 - so around £160,000 a year. Is that a fair sum? We leave that to you to judge.

In any case, it seems hard to deny that Pride’s original spirit and raw activist energy, its themes of protest, liberation and visibility have been diluted by the passage of time, sheer numbers of visitors and the quest by some to make as much money as possible. This is not a criticism of the festival’s organisers who bring huge professionalism and technical know-how to ensure an event of this scale works smoothly. By and large it does. But there is the worry that we may have become too controlled, too programmed to behave in a certain way with all the tickets, wrist bands, fencing, cameras and security rather than just be free to express our identity, politics and freedom as we choose.

Third… the costs of star line-ups and what it says about Pride.

Star acts bring huge delight to many and are a spectacular memory from the weekend that thousands of fans treasure as they head home. However some of these acts charge eye-watering fees and require sophisticated broadcast, staging, security and crowd control. All escalate the ticket prices. Don't get us wrong, the top acts are fantastic, but the ticket pricing needed feels like another aspect of a corporate-greed that's strangling the ethos of what was once a grassroots community movement.

“Is it time to take a step back and weigh up the costs and benefits? Has the event lost its ‘Pinkness’ and is no longer about sexual liberation and identity?”

Fourth… who participates?

Reasonable-minded people might say that it's fine for celebs to step onto the big stage, but only provided they ‘share our values’. Yes, the main stage and festival dance tents are well-organised and the punters have an ecstatic time. The catch is that some acts and DJs ratchet up the costs of an already hugely challenging event to organise. There has to be a balance between the investment in star names and the costs for individuals and the wider community. Is it time to take a step back and weigh up the costs and benefits? Has the event lost its ‘Pinkness’ and is no longer about sexual liberation and identity?

It's an awesome sight to see such colour and exuberance on the parade, whether participants be on foot, floats, stilts, trikes, skates or whatever. But what ‘Pink lines’ should be marked out when we allow big commercial brands to join our party? These mega-companies pay a relatively cheap fee in exchange for parade slots to enable them to advertise their businesses in front of 300,000 spectators and with a whole lot more media coverage. Are we, the LGBTQ+ communities, actually getting value?

Fifth… big brands, where were you when it mattered?

Radical activists also have a point when they say that it’s all very well paying up to be seen on the parade but what were the big brands doing for us when things were even tougher not too many years ago? Sure, times change but it's fair to ask these questions - some random important ones:

• In the early ‘lesbian and gay liberation’ years of the ‘60s and ‘70s, when activists had to tear down society’s wall of hostility to LGBTQ+ equality?
• In the ‘80s and the ‘90’s when the Pride movement revived in the face of the first anti-gay legislation for 100 years? (1980s British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher’s notorious Section 28 which banned the ‘promotion of homosexuality’ in schools and other local government services)?
• When gay men and their allies, including many lesbians, had to battle David-versus-Goliath-like in the ‘80s and ‘90s against authorities across the West for action against HIV/AIDS, when a positive HIV diagnosis could mean death?
• When the Trans community needed support on securing their right to identity paperwork to change their legal gender to be who they were?
• When activists challenged the big record companies and retailers on ‘murder music’ lyrics in the 2000s - homophobic, transphobic and misogynistic songs in dancehall, reggae and other related genres?

We could continue.

Maybe corporate friends are better than no friends at all. But there’s a temptation for big companies to use Pride as a tick-box for their diversity and LGBTQ+ inclusion policies. Funding glitzy parade floats with staff dancing to tech-house beats is cool but if big brand sponsors are to offer genuine, albeit come-lately, contributions to the advancement of LGBTQ+ equality, they need to do more to show they're truly with us. If not, accusations by radical activists that this is just pinkwashing start to ring true.

Perhaps big brands could support LGBTQ+ charities and campaigns more with sustained, long term, investment or they could occasionally weigh in on topical national debates such as Trans rights and conversion therapies? There are limits to what corporates, especially listed companies and C-suite leaders, can do and say in the corporate social responsibility arena, but why not be bold if you want to build on our communities’ friendship?

Alongside this, some consumer brands in the US have been targeted by right-wing activists who want them to ditch their diversity and pro-LGBTQ+ employee policies altogether. Most recently the company that owns the Jack Daniels whisky brand appears to have caved in and watered down its diversity and pro LGBTQ+ policies according to reports in the LGBTQ+ press. The big brands may feel that diversity support just isn't worth it unless we, the LGBTQ+ communities, show some willingness to engage all the while marking out our Pink lines.

How did we get here?

Some milestones on Pride’s journey are worth noting. In the early 2000s Brighton Pride grew by leaps and bounds in crowds, revenue and buy-in from the city’s political, media and business leaders; by 2010 around 165,000 revellers were streaming into town for the still-free event; in one year the size of the crowd caught organisers and emergency services off-guard but fortunately it all passed off smoothly. But by that year pressure was building to ensure the festival remained manageable. Public services and the city council feared the festival was getting too difficult to manage with frequent reports of antisocial behaviour as well as a heavy environmental toll on the festival site, Brighton’s beautiful Preston Park. The organisers opted for enclosed ticketed access to the festival in the Park for the following year.

There were sound arguments for this. Some people commented at the time that they thought the festival had become a bit “trashy”, with a much larger crowd who appeared not to be from the LGBTQ+ communities, compared to previous years, and who were not tuned into the spirit of the event. Ticketed access also helped the cash flow given the voluntary donations; remember the people with the buckets at the gates? They could never match the spiralling costs begging for small change.

What happened with ticketing

Although an enclosure enables ticketing and controls who's let in, it adds a layer of cost and transforms the event into something very different. With ticketing, that spontaneous local community vibe that had characterised the early years disappeared. Fortunately in 2023 there was a vivid reminder of the past: the photo exhibition last year ‘Dare to be Different’ at Brighton’s Central Library. It marked half a century since the city’s first Pride festival in 1973. Images from that year were on show from long lost negatives rediscovered in a local newspaper archive after decades. Poignant, brave images that conveyed the movement’s roots.

“It’s a vicious circle of prices spiralling to satisfy higher expectations and to fund ever more complex infrastructure…”

As mentioned, with star acts also necessitating higher-priced tickets, and the general cost of living inflation that we all know, the event’s moved way outside what some would say sits comfortably with the movement’s roots. It’s a vicious circle of prices spiralling to satisfy higher expectations and to fund ever more complex infrastructure, including changing demands about Pride compensating the council for the “wider footprint” of the event. All this means fewer and fewer people can afford it. To be fair, organisers offer some discount tickets to low income groups and to residents. Yet ticket costs and the fees for participation in the parade, especially non-profit groups, are too high and imply, even if unintentionally, a message that only money counts. It also raises the question why should non-profits have to pay a fee to join a Pride parade on foot? Shouldn't it be free as in any grassroots rally? At least the parade is still free to watch.

So it’s not surprising all this has created a backlash among many LGBTQ+ activists who fear the tentacles of big business strangling the movement’s values. It all came to a head this year with activist groups protesting about the commercialisation of Pride and its big corporate sponsors. To make things even more controversial, the world’s conflicts have inevitably influenced the event, notably Ukraine and Gaza. Demands for boycotts of companies who have ties to Israel have swept across the West. Understandably, many people raised questions as to why such companies are still freely throwing their sponsorship dosh around at Pink LGBTQ+ community events. Most notably Coca-Cola had a branded bus on the parade as well as a sponsor agreement.

A range of alternative Pride community events took place over the festival weekend and throughout August. Pro-Palestinian Queer and other activists called for Pride’s organisers to withdraw the Coca-Cola deal among other demands. Some activists took direct action and prevented the Coca-Cola bus from completing the parade route by encircling it. Some of their demands made sense while others are what you'd expect when Antifa dabbles in AI and it goes wrong, including a rather unliberal one of banning political parties from the parade. We read that as telling our elected representatives, including Members of Parliament and city councillors who support the event and have done for years, “We don’t want your help, thanks”. A weird way to advocate for the LGBTQ+ community and the Pride movement. If in doubt, look at the facts: the council still funds some of the logistical costs. It’s been an ally over many years. The event wouldn't take place at all without council backing. If our elected representatives support our movement then we should celebrate that, not ban their political parties. We don't need to agree with them on every policy. In the ‘90s, Brighton Council was roasted by the local press for providing a humble £5k grant to the budding festival. A few councillors stuck their necks out at some personal political cost in the early years. That’s more than we can say for the more Johnny-come-lately big brands. To suggest banning elected representatives and their political parties from the parade seems to go against the spirit of Pride and is counterproductive.

Some positive ideas

However one demand makes a lot of sense: a Code of Ethics to guide, among other things, who should qualify as a sponsor, coupled with more scrutiny of stage acts ahead of their booking to verify that they share Pride’s values. Such a code would define what and if sponsorship is appropriate by whom; it could be agreed by Pride partners and wider community representatives beforehand so there is a consensus. Pride’s organisers have responded positively to some of these ideas including a Code of Ethics.

To boycott or not? To welcome or not?

Most reasonable people would probably agree that the event has lost some of its community vibes. But to protest point blank the participation of groups or businesses with whom you may have disagreements seems to go too far. That would be to misunderstand the roots of the movement or at least what it means for us today. Sponsorship is one thing to guard over. But participation in the Parade by corporates is not the same as their sponsoring the event. So long as big brands can sign up to our basic values of Pride including acceptance, dialogue, equality, love, freedom, celebration and fun, that should be enough. As 1970s US gay rights activist and politician Harvey Milk said, “Once you have dialogue starting, you know you can break down prejudice.”

“We shouldn’t boycott Pride. Pride is a movement not just a party. You can't boycott a movement without harming the communities it serves.”

Brighton Pride needs some changes, especially in its relations with big brands and ticket costs. But the organisers can't be expected to get everything right all the time. Yes, lower ticket prices are needed. A more discreet operational police presence would be welcome and conversely even more visible political messaging on the Parade. But we shouldn't boycott Pride. Pride is a movement not just a party. You can't boycott a movement without harming the communities it serves.

It hasn't lost all its politics. It was gratifying this year to see some of the famous names in LGBTQ+ liberation were out in force, notably human rights campaigner Peter Tatchell who led a large number of activists including LGBTQ+ asylum seekers from homophobic and transphobic regimes, urging the new Labour government to act on LGBTQ+ issues quickly.

Pride is about celebration and expression of identity and visibility of all the LGBTQ+ communities. Even if we don't always agree with each other, by working together we can achieve a lot and honour those who gave so much in the past. To boycott Pride is to wipe the memory of what so many activists have achieved over six decades of the movement. The network of Pride festivals around the world means different things to different people. At its root, it’s a global liberation movement, one that continues to grow, provides hope and a lot of Pink fun.

Simon Williams writes on equalities, civil liberties and LGBTQ+ history.

Related article: Pride in Brighton & Hove: how it was then