In November 2025, the Ontario government rushed through new legislation to dramatically restructure public drinking water and wastewater services without any public consultation.

The Water and Wastewater Public Corporations Act (WCA) authorizes the province’s minister of municipal affairs and housing to remove water and wastewater services from local governments and assign them to arms-length governance structures by classifying them as “water and wastewater public corporations (WCCs).”

Despite being buried among other controversial measures in the omnibus Bill 60, the WCA drew considerable public backlash. A broad-based coalition was formed, bringing together water workers, environmental organizations, physicians and anti-poverty activists to push back against what seemed like the stealth privatization of provincial water infrastructure.

In response, Premier Doug Ford’s government tabled amendments to restrict shareholders in WCCs to “a municipality, the Province of Ontario, the Government of Canada or an agent of any of them” under Bill 98, which is now in third reading.

But University of British Columbia law professor Joel Bakan has concluded these amendments don’t rule out privatization. The possibility of shares being held by the ambiguously termed “agent” of the state opens the door for any number of public-private configurations.

Financialization

While critical details might be clarified in upcoming regulations, a troubling picture emerges when connecting the dots. Whether the WCA leads to outright privatization, its proposed reforms are consistent with an insidious global push to make municipal water and sanitation systems more amenable to private investment. This essentially transforms them into tradeable assets.

This process, known as financialization, would erode the public health and social mandate of public water infrastructure, undermining the capacity of communities to cope with growing ecological and financial stresses.

Around the world, fierce public opposition has resulted in the termination or non-renewal of private contracts in hundreds of communities around the world. Even the staunchest proponents of privatization now view water as too politically risky and insufficiently profitable for private sector engagement.

At the same time, there has been a growing appetite for “bankable” water infrastructure projects in the face of growing economic uncertainty. In response, international financial institutions and other powerful entities are pushing for policy reforms to pave the way for the integration of water into global financial markets.

Extracting profit

Privatization is not a necessary precursor to financialization. Corporatized public utilities, argues British water researcher Kate Bayliss, can perform the same function of laying the groundwork and creating revenue streams that can eventually be captured by financial markets.

In fact the World Bank, the largest funder of water projects in the Global South, promotes reforms to publicly owned and operated utilities to improve their risk-return profiles for commercial investment. In other words, public institutions are restructured to absorb risk and shift costs to local communities in order to ensure greater extraction of private profit.

The Ontario legislation follows this model by dismantling municipal services and restructuring them into arm’s-length WCCs.

By removing water and sanitation services from local control, WCCs create a more streamlined system for profit generation. Key decisions — including finances, contracts and water rates — would be made by corporate boards with little direct accountability to communities.

Deepening existing inequities

Measures that generate value for shareholders will likely take precedence over public health and equity-related considerations.

As Brock University water management expert Lina Taing warns, the proposed consolidation of operations will ultimately undermine hard-won accountability provisions. It will also diminish the “site-specific knowledge” that is central to the multi-barrier approach developed in the aftermath of the Walkerton contaminated water crisis in May 2000.

The plan would take effect most immediately in Peel Region, one of the most racially diverse municipalities in the country. By 2029, jurisdiction over water and wastewater services will be transferred from Peel to its three lower-tier municipalities, which will then be required to deliver services exclusively through a newly created WCC.

The financial implications for Peel are deeply troubling. Water and wastewater infrastructure in Peel was built over decades with public funds. Under the new Ontario law, this infrastructure would be transferred to a WCC while Peel’s existing debt remains with the municipal government.

In other words, the assets are transferred while the liabilities stay behind. Peel will be left servicing legacy debt with no corresponding revenue stream, while revenues generated from water bills flow to WCC shareholders who bear no responsibility for that debt.

This is a textbook example of what scholars describe as risk socialization and profit privatization. Simply put, the public bears the burden while shareholders capture the reward.

Flint water crisis

In the words of American geographer Laura Pulido, racialized places often become the “testing ground for new forms of neoliberal practice.”

The Flint, Mich., water crisis also began with a state-level decision to place the city under emergency management.

The unelected city manager switched the city’s drinking water source to the highly contaminated Flint River as a cost-cutting measure, but failed to ensure the water was treated with corrosion inhibitors. This caused lead to leach from aging pipes and trihalomethanes (TTHMs) to form in tap water. TTHMs are a carcinogenic by-product formed when chlorine reacts with organic matter in water.

Likewise, ongoing challenges in First Nations communities underscore the inadequacies of top-down federal initiatives to resolve the drinking water crisis with blanket solutions that are inappropriate, inadequate or unacceptable to local communities.

A recent study found high concentrations of TTHMs in tap water samples from three Manitoba First Nations reserves as a result of treatment processes that weren’t suited to local environments and climate conditions.

Stripping communities of power

Both Bill 60 and Bill 98 align with broader efforts to expand the financialization of Ontario’s public infrastructure.

The Building Ontario Fund was established precisely for the purpose of including private capital in priority infrastructure projects. Unless challenged, the new legislation will strip communities of their power to shape services according to their needs, will make it easier to extract private wealth from public infrastructure and will erode the social mandates that make public water services central to building just, equitable and sustainable societies.

Experiences with water financialization in the United Kingdom and elsewhere show an intensified form of the harms associated with water privatization.

Water rates often rise sharply to generate returns for shareholders, while revenues are paid out as dividends instead of being reinvested in system maintenance and upgrades. Over time, this can erode environmental protections, social equity and labour rights.

The Ontario government is seeking public input on Bill 98 until this Thursday.

This is an opportunity for Ontario residents to join the Ontario Federation of Agriculture, the Canadian Union of Public Employees, the Canada Green Building Council, Environmental Defence Canada and many other organizations in demanding a better future for their water systems.

Meera Karunananthan sits on the boards of the Blue Planet Project and Peace Brigades International- Canada. They are both volunteer positions enabling her learn from and collaborate with water defenders, organizations and networks involved in frontline struggles for water justice around the world.

There is a new buzz around Darlington: the sound of delivery drones. This northern English town is now the only place outside the US where retail giant Amazon offers airborne delivery to people’s homes via its Prime Air company.

Customers living within 7.5 miles of Amazon’s Darlington fulfilment centre can select a drone delivery for everyday items (not including batteries) weighing less than 5lb. They also need a suitable dropping off point (literally) – a garden, terrace or yard into which parcels can be dropped safely from a height of around 12 feet.

Prior to dropping any parcel, Amazon’s MK30 drones sense for potential obstacles, from people to washing lines and pets. When the technology was first tested in the town in January, Prime Air’s vice-president David Carbon stressed that safety was a “top priority” for the company.

Darlington’s geography makes it an interesting site for Amazon’s new service. This large market town’s mix of residential areas, green spaces and major roads supports the gathering of valuable data on drone activity in a range of conditions.

Prime Air is expected to conduct up to ten delivery flights an hour during daylight, given favourable weather conditions. In the US, it has been running these services since 2022, and is currently in nine cities across five states.

The company has permission to conduct “beyond visual line of sight” (Bvlos) drone operations until June 18 – with an extension likely. The drones can fly autonomously but are not allowed in airspace near Teesside International Airport.

To date, the local authority has only permitted Amazon to build a temporary structure with one launchpad, while highlighting a lack of evidence about how drone noise will affect local residents. This caution is indicative of widespread public concerns that need addressing if airborne delivery is to become a regular part of modern life.

Public concerns

In Darlington, some residents have raised worries about noise, privacy and theft over the new drone delivery service.

Similarly, UK-wide research by the Future Flight Social Insight team has identified a range of public concerns around privacy (what data are drones gathering?), safety (risks of damage to people and property) and drone noise, which can be seen as high-pitched and “annoying”.

The team’s surveys show that people often regard drones as more beneficial in remote and rural areas than urban and suburban spaces.

Concerns have been raised during other trials around the world. In the Irish capital Dublin, Manna’s delivery drone operations have been live for nearly two years. However, they have faced considerable grassroots opposition from Drone Action D15, a community group that has labelled them “chaos in the skies”.

In Australia, Wing’s delivery drone trials in the capital, Canberra, were halted following pushback from the Bonython Against Drones community group.

The UK government has developed a roadmap for the introduction of routine delivery drone operations by 2027, supported by millions of pounds of investments. Such ambitious projects require coordinated planning by local authorities, including integration of physical infrastructure such as masts

One high-profile example is Project Skyway, a proposal for a drone superhighway connecting 165 miles of airspace above six English towns and cities – Reading, Oxford, Milton Keynes, Cambridge, Coventry and Rugby – to enable a range of drone-related applications.

The project’s future was put in doubt, however, when its lead company Altitude Angel went into administration in October 2025. The administrators still appear to be seeking a buyer for that company.

Drone nimbyism

Without careful consultation, the future of drones may be affected by “drone nimbyism”, whereby residents oppose drones in their local area while being open to their introduction in general.

As Daniel Slade, head of practice and research at the Royal Town Planning Institute (RTPI), explained to us: “Experience tells us that if communities feel decisions are happening to them, rather than being made with them, the backlash could result in widely beneficial development not going ahead at all.”

Locations for drone launch and landing pads need to be carefully selected, considering environmental and wildlife factors as well as noise. The implications of where drones are routed and which residents will be most affected must be carefully assessed.

This comes at a time when local planning departments face consistent under-investment, while grappling with high housing delivery targets and the challenge of new AI technologies.

Some local authorities in England are already using drones for core service delivery, but experience varies considerably across the UK. Governments and local authorities need to get the planning right, or face the issue of drone nimbyism.

With this in mind, we’re working with the RTPI to develop guidance for planners on the introduction of drones for delivery and other purposes. Trials such as Amazon’s in Darlington prompt timely questions about the roles and responsibilities of local authorities amid the UK’s aspiration to scale up drone services.

“It’s startling how quickly drones will become a regular sight in UK skies,” Slade told us. “They could bring huge economic and social benefits – but there will also be costs. Planners have a unique role in maximising the former, minimising the latter, and distributing both fairly.”

Paul Cureton receives funding from the British Academy (Small Research Grants) for the project 'Future drone skies: Planning in volume' (SRG25/250332).

Anna Jackman receives funding from the British Academy (Small Research Grants) for the project 'Future drone skies: Planning in volume' (SRG25/250332).

What’s the link between the global economy and the climate? Consumption drives extraction and carbon emissions. But there is more.

The inequalities of the global economy don’t just shape what goes into the atmosphere. They affect our understanding of the climate and our perspectives when it comes to possible solutions. The lenses through which we see the world reflect the inequalities within it. The greater the centralisation of power, the greater the control over our knowledge about it.

This was a conclusion that the writer and revolutionary Antonio Gramsci reached, while languishing in prison after a failed revolution against the fascist Italian dictator Benito Mussolini. Unable to understand why ordinary people didn’t rise up against the dictator, despite their clear economic interest in doing so, he coined the term “hegemony”: the conflation of power and knowledge, whereby the views and interests of a political economic elite are adopted by the rest of society as common sense.

This perspective explains a lot about our seeming inability to escape the environmental status quo.

Successive polls indicate overwhelming public support for resolving excessive carbon emissions and the problems this excessive use of fossil fuels is creating for communities around the world.

In the UK, 60% of people support net zero. In Germany, 81% of the population want to expand renewable energy, while 55% cite it as “very important to them”. In Italy, 80% of people support a renewables only energy policy. Even in the US, 57% want the government to do more to address climate change.

With the exception of the US, this majority is greater than that which has elected any political party since the turn of the 20th century. So with a super-majority in favour of decarbonisation, how does the world remain stuck on such a steep upwards trajectory of carbon emissions?

Almost every country has a stated commitment to decarbonisation. Wind and solar energy are the cheapest forms of energy in history.

Yet a record quantity of carbon was pumped into the atmosphere last year. And record amounts of coal, oil and gas are still being extracted from the Earth.

Statistics like this can make even thinking about climate change a demoralising business. This is precisely the problem. Our overwhelming political will is sapped by being locked into a system that obscures the most effective pathways (phasing out fossil fuels, for example), while continually moving us towards less effective ones.

If you’re worried that global garment production is on course to triple in size by 2050, common narratives suggest that simply choosing the “greenest” brand will help fix the problem. Worried about the carbon cost of flying? Never fear: a budget airline’s apocryphal claims to be sustainable can assuage that nagging guilt.

Feeling the heat?

But the politics of climate change isn’t just about what we buy. It’s a full-body experience.

Take heat stress. According to the UN’s International Labour Organization, 70% of workers experience heat stress throughout the year. That figure falls to 29% in Europe and rises to 93% in sub-Saharan Africa.

These two continents have big differences in temperature, but temperature is in fact only a small part of the problem.

The largest determinant on whether a person becomes heat stressed (the point at which their body is pushed beyond its normal thermal limits) is the work that a person does. People working in construction, agriculture and other high-intensity roles – the kind that dominate in developing countries – are at the highest risk. Sedentary service sectors, or office jobs to you and me, are the safest in terms of heat stress.

When it comes to the environment, what you feel depends on what you do.

My new book, Climate Hegemony, highlights how a farmer is almost twice as likely as a garment worker to experience changing rainfall patterns, because everybody’s experience of the environment is filtered through how they spend their life.

That’s the problem. The populations of the developed world, consumers of most fossil fuels globally, may favour climate action. But as long as they continue to benefit from a global economy that reduces their risk through air conditioning and wealth, tackling climate change will remain alongside world peace and eliminating global hunger: moral aspirations, rather than tangible policy.

It is a testament to the persuasive powers of the fossil fuel industry that this hegemony is sustained – even in the face of precipitously falling renewable energy prices. Campaigns outflank arguments for renewable energy through widespread political lobbying and by support for conservative thinktanks and social movements, such as the campaign against net zero.

Individually, these activities might seem nefarious, but together they present as common sense, just as Gramsci complained from his cell in 1929.

As Gramsci found out, it is not easy to change minds. Yet by challenging the deeply embedded norms and assumptions of our current environmental impasse, it is possible to access something many environmentalists have felt starved of in recent years: hope.

The changing climate acts not only through emissions, but through everything we do, make and think. With different assumptions about which climate actions are possible, we arrive at different politics and different outcomes.

So, however much it might feel like it, the climate impasse is far from insurmountable. A world of ways to reshape our relationship to the environment are waiting, if only we can learn to see them.

Laurie Parsons receives funding from The Wellcome Trust and UK Research and Innovation.

In the last of our series on environmental issues and the Wales election campaign, we look particularly at countryside policies of two parties that are new contenders for seats in the Senedd.

The elections to Wales’s parliament, the Senedd, on May 7 are set to be the most unpredictable since the creation of the devolved government in 1999. With current polling indicating close contests in many constituencies, rural voters could make a critical difference to the final result.

Issues such as farming support, windfarms, pylons and changes to rural healthcare services are contentious, but they form part of a larger question about the future of rural Wales. Interestingly, the two parties projected to win seats in the Senedd through election for the first time – Reform UK and the Green party (Reform UK has two seats in the outgoing Senedd through defections) – represent contrasting visions of the Welsh countryside.

Reform’s rural vision

Reform UK has directly targeted discontented rural voters. With a cover image showing daffodil-covered green hills, Reform’s manifesto says it will “back Welsh farmers”. It promises “agriculture will be treated as a strategic national asset”.

Specific policies include: reforming the new post-Brexit Sustainable Farming Scheme to emphasise food production, funding for young farmers’ clubs, scrapping net zero targets and banning new onshore wind farms and solar arrays, reducing environmental regulations and protecting lawful game bird release. It also plans to “streamline planning regulations” and cut back on “red tape”.

Read more: Why windfarms and electricity pylons have become a major issue in the Welsh election

Reform is competing with the Conservatives for the voters that this version of rural Wales appeals to. Although the Conservative manifesto is less dramatic in tone, especially on net zero, it also plans to scrap the Sustainable Farming Scheme and introduce a moratorium on industrial scale wind and solar power stations.

A Green vision

The strongest prospects for the Green party are in urban constituencies. However, their platform contains policies that would have significant implications for rural Wales. They include a Land Reform Act, making it easier for communities to buy land, a “Welsh Right to Roam” offering “responsible access to the countryside”, a national rewilding strategy and commitments to a Sustainable Farming Scheme that rewards “nature-friendly farming” and renewable energy targets.

These represent a very different vision for the Welsh countryside to Reform. But they also reflect an alternative, almost counter culture, strand of Welsh rural society that has welcomed people who moved to rural areas in search of a new way of life since the 1960s and pioneered organic farming and low impact development.

There are currently Green councillors in rural Monmouthshire and Powys. Some projections suggest the party could win two or three Senedd seats in significantly rural constituencies.

If the Greens achieve more than 10% of the vote nationally, they are likely to do so by taking votes from Plaid Cymru, including in rural areas.

Plaid Cymru needs both rural and urban seats to become the biggest party. Its manifesto contains a significant section on rural policies, but with less prominence than Reform UK’s. Plaid’s rural policies broadly share the pro-environmental approach of the Greens, but the influence of conservative rural voters in its heartlands is evident in careful positioning on farming, windfarms and pylons, as well as the absence of mentions of rewilding.

On rural and environmental issues the Greens are more aligned with Labour, while Plaid Cymru are closer to the Liberal Democrats.

Politics in rural Wales

Wales is sometimes described as predominantly rural, but while 80% of the land is countryside, most people live in the towns and cities. Nevertheless, around a third of Wales’s population lives close to the countryside, in largely rural local authorities.

Over the last 25 years rural Wales has experienced substantial social and economic restructuring, including declining work in farming and manufacturing, along with many young people leaving to find jobs. These areas face challenges from low wages, sparse infrastructure, precarious public services and competing visions for land use.

Three issues in particular have attracted attention. First, plans for the Sustainable Farming Scheme (the Welsh government plans for agriculture subsidies to replace EU funding) provoked protests by Welsh farmers in 2024, especially over proposed requirements for 10% of farmland to be planted with trees. The later was subsequently withdrawn.

Second, there’s been opposition to new windfarm developments and pylon lines. Rewilding projects have also been controversial. Third, downgrading of services at hospitals serving rural areas and closure of village schools, have sparked local campaigns.

Public anger over these and other issues has often been directed at Welsh Labour, the governing party in Wales since 1999, with other parties trying to cast it as urban focused.

Labour did win rural constituencies in the 2024 UK general election, and current First Minister Eluned Morgan has a long-standing interest in rural affairs, outlining a plan for rural Wales in 2017. The Labour manifesto promises to “increase rural Wales’ skills and productivity” and to promote “food, farming and forestry”.

The traditional stronghold of nationalist Plaid Cymru is in the rural north and west Wales. While the Conservatives’ strongest support is in rural districts close to the English border and in parts of south Wales. The most enduring areas of support for the Welsh Liberal Democrats are in rural mid Wales.

Results to watch for

A few key results will provide an indication of the political temperature in rural Wales:

• Whether Plaid Cymru or Reform UK get most votes in Brycheiniog Tawe Nedd, Gwynedd Maldwyn and Sir Gaerfyrddin

• Whether the Greens win a seat in Ceredigion Penfro, Gwynedd Maldwyn, or Sir Fynwy Torfaen

• Whether the Conservatives get seats in Bangor Conwy Môn, Brycheiniog Tawe Nedd and Ceredigion Penfro, and the Liberal Democrats retain their seat in Brychceiniog Tawe

• Whether Labour’s Eluned Morgan can hold on to her seat in Ceredigion Penfro.

If, as seems likely, no party has a majority, rural issues will play an important role in coalition discussions. A shared rural vision could assist agreement between Reform UK and the Conservatives; while negotiations between Plaid Cymru, Labour or the Greens will need to resolve differences in rural and environmental policies. This may have profound consequences for the future of rural Wales.

Michael Woods receives funding from UKRI. He is a member of the Liberal Democrats.

Within moments of entering the Newport Renaissance Faire, you are ushered to a group of fairies. They pass you a scroll and say, “You must seek out the Bone Man for the first hurdle in your quest.” As you navigate the fair, you find many men dressed in bones, both vendors and fellow attendees. When you find the correct Bone Man – an actor wearing what appears to be a mask made of human skull along with a crown constructed from deer antlers – he stamps your scroll. He then sends you to your next target: the Drunk Viking.

Following the directions of actors in the fair, you meet a variety of performers from many historical eras and fantastic realms, and stumble upon both merchants and merrymakers in your journey. It’s all part of the immersive experience that connects you with the other guests and staff, though many of the costumed staff members, speaking in faux Middle English, are also trying to sell you something.

Renaissance fairs were originally conceived as a creative refuge for artists sidelined by political repression during the Red Scare. Now, they sit at an uneasy crossroads between countercultural expression and commercial spectacle. Having grown into a nationwide industry with tiered tickets, branded merchandise and multimillion dollar valuations, the fairs can easily be seen as an offshoot of a corporate theme park.

As cultural geographers, we wanted to learn more about whether the spirit of the fairs has been changing. So for our recent study, we visited the Tennessee Renaissance Festival, Newport Renaissance Faire, Tennessee Medieval Faire and Tennessee Pirate Fest.

Once upon a time … not so long ago

Although renaissance fairs and festivals recreate the atmosphere of centuries past, the first formally recognized fair took place in May 1963 in Irwindale, California. A public school English and history teacher named Phyllis Patterson was the brains behind the event, which she dubbed the Renaissance Pleasure Faire.

For Patterson, the fair was a chance to celebrate the era’s countercultural values like free expression, experimentation with identity and creative play. It also served as a source of employment for those who had been pushed out of their careers in the film and entertainment industries after being blacklisted or graylisted as suspected communists.

Patterson herself had refused to sign a Cold War–era loyalty oath required to work in California public schools. At the Renaissance Pleasure Faire, actors, educators and set designers could continue their craft, whether that meant designing costumes, creating characters, performing or writing.

From creative refuge to thriving business

Since those first events in Southern California, renaissance fairs have spread across the U.S., with some constructing permanent structures even though they’re only open seasonally, in the spring or fall. Built to resemble small villages, fair operators create towns-within-towns, fantasy lands where visitors can briefly step away from their routines and obligations.

Their popularity continues to grow, and what began partly as a creative refuge has grown into a thriving entertainment business.

The East Tennessee Renaissance Faire recently announced that it would be relocating after deciding that its original venue in Newport could no longer accommodate the swelling crowds: Within three years, the fair had grown from 600 to 6,000 attendees, spurring a move to a larger site in neighboring Sevierville. New fairs are sprouting up as well: The Chattanooga Renaissance Faire will host its inaugural season in spring 2026.

There are almost always entry fees – US$38 at the Tennessee Renaissance Festival and $53 at the Renaissance Pleasure Faire, for example – and many offer season passes.

Attendees often arrive in costume, but strict rules about adhering to a specific time period or setting rarely apply.

Some visitors dress as Tolkien-style elves, while others show up as Tudor nobles. Viking-clad participants walk alongside fairies and swashbuckling pirates. Some fairs have also developed their own themed weekends – with names like “Viking Victory,” “Fantasy and Folklore,” “Pirate Plunder” and “Celtic Celebration” – that weave history and fiction with few constraints. And those committed to their role will often address each other in playful faux-medieval speech, with greetings like “my lady” or “my lord.”

Vendors, often dressed in costume themselves, sell everything from cloaks, swords and crowns to contemporary jewelry and shampoos. Booths sell era-adjacent fare like Scotch eggs, ciders, mead and turkey legs, while modern cocktails like “The Shipwreck” and “The Blueberry Faerie” can also be had, with visitors paying the equivalent of stadium and arena concession prices.

Renaissance fairs have even spread to countries like Germany and France, reconnecting with their roots. The expansion into new venues – along with the development of offshoots such as pirate- and steampunk-themed festivals – point to profit margins that would have been unthinkable in the early days of the Renaissance Pleasure Faire.

But as with many ventures, the prospect of cashing in comes with complications.

The 2024 HBO Max series “Ren Faire” introduced viewers to the eccentrics and costume-clad vendors involved in the nation’s largest fair, the Texas Renaissance Festival in Todd Mission. The fight over its future involved lawsuits and, eventually, the court-ordered $60 million sale of the event’s property and assets.

King Richard’s Faire, which takes place in Carver, Massachusetts, and is the largest fair in New England, reportedly generates massive daily revenue while allegedly relying on widespread worker misclassification, leaving many performers earning below minimum wage without benefits. Even volunteer “villagers” work only for free admission, and both workers and attendees receive no compensation or refunds when the fair closes due to rain.

Seeking out a space of whimsy

Despite the creeping influence of profit motives, we concluded that renaissance fairs have always been – and continue to be – mostly about community.

Dressing as a fantastical version of yourself or your favorite character bonds you to others dressed up at the festival. Unlike popular Civil War or World War II reenactments where historical accuracy is paramount, renaissance fairs instead invite people to take part in shared, often mythologized ideas about history through performance, costume and play.

For example, each weekend, the Tennessee Renaissance Festival organizes jousts. Competitors and their horses meet at a permanent jousting pitch located at the back of the property. Each knight represents a noble house, and each section of the bleachers is assigned a knight to root for. Announcers explain the rules of each event, while also leading the crowds in chants and cheers. While the knights might fight under titles tied to historical lineages, they represent a jumble of eras and place. They also reject antiquated social norms by including women and ethnic groups who never would have been seen together on a jousting pitch.

Here, fidelity to the facts is an afterthought; it actually might ruin the fun.

Beyond the jousting pitch, you can find the queen dictating a game of human chess. A rotating cast of performers play music, tell jokes, juggle and blow fire. Elsewhere, you might stumble across pixies teaching children how to make fairy homes or relax in a mermaid’s magical grotto.

There’s also a comforting simplicity in the narratives of this make-believe world. Ladies are almost always gentle and beautiful, while the men are brave and noble. All the villains are easy to spot – they’re always defeated.

In a real world characterized by political upheaval, information overload, invisible surveillance and shadowy villains, perhaps the fair, with its simple prism of good and evil, becomes a space of comfort – a curated cultural experiment that’s also an improvised escape.

In other words, renaissance fairs wield a quiet power: They forge communities that deliberately blur fantasy, history and everyday life with a wink. Vendors, performers and attendees alike can be Tudors, Vikings, hobbits, elves or mermaids for a day. Few actually believe in elves, or imagine their mock-Elizabethan speech is anything more than cheerful, mangled guesswork.

And that’s the point. There’s joy in pretending – just as there’s a universal pleasure in the weird, the whimsical and the absurd.

The authors do not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and have disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.