Miko Hernandez.
Miko Hernandez, Account Manager Think HQ.
Every year, Australia’s major cities wake up. Between Midsumma and Sydney Mardi Gras, nearly a million people take to the streets to mark how far we’ve come. For many of us, it’s a blur of volunteering and connecting while trying to actually catch a moment of the festival - whether it’s a picnic at Alexandra Gardens for the Midsumma Carnival or hitting Smith Street for the Vicky P’s street party.
But while the streets are celebrating, there is often a low-frequency hum of panic in corporate boardrooms. It’s the sound of teams second-guessing their activations, terrified of the "performative" label. They might have spent thousands on custom acrylics and a sound system that rattles the trees. The logistics are perfect, but the executives are holding their breath, wondering if the community is about to roll its eyes.
The gut reaction is often to agree: yes, it’s performative. We’ve been conditioned to believe that corporate cash inevitably dilutes the soul of Pride. But I’d suggest a different view: money is useful. In fact, it’s essential. Hear me out…
Look at Midsumma’s history. It didn't become a premier festival on grit alone. By 1994, that 80s survival spirit hit a financial wall; the festival was facing bankruptcy. Opening the doors to commercial sponsorship paid the bills for sure, but also a whole bunch more - without it, there would never have been the first Pride March in 1996, and the inaugural Street Party in 1997 would have remained a pipedream.
I see this same reality in my own work volunteering for queer multicultural communities in Melbourne. We can make meaningful connections on a shoestring, sure. But funding is a force multiplier. It’s the difference between a simple meetup and having the resources to rent safe spaces, hire speakers, and provide the food that actually brings people together. We aren't trading our souls; we’re using a tool to scale community spirit.
There is always discourse around "pink washing", major brands trying to capitalise on the community to grab a slice of the pink dollar. It’s a valid grievance for sure. Interestingly, while US giants like Pepsi pull back under political pressure, many Australian companies are still showing up. This leaves us with a choice: what is worse, "performative" allyship or none at all? If we pull the plug on funding, we don't just lose the glitter; we lose the platform. Visibility is a right, but building a stage for a million people requires resources.
Of course, intent matters. The Bud Light situation remains the ultimate cautionary tale. Tapping Dylan Mulvaney was a positive move for representation, but it failed because it felt like a tactical add-on rather than a core commitment. When the inevitable conservative boycott hit and sales dipped 10%, the brand lacked the backbone to stand its ground. The lesson: if you’re going to step into the ring, your values need to be aligned before you start. You can't pivot the moment things get uncomfortable.
By contrast, brands like NAB are moving past the "campaign" mindset. By funding year-round ally training and ensuring branches are safe spaces every day - not just during festival month - they provide actual utility. This is the shift from "ads" to "acts."
Looking ahead, the goal is consistency. While other markets get cold feet, staying the course in Australia is the right move. We are moving toward a future where we value long-term commitment over a seasonal tactical play. Visibility is the objective; funding is the fuel. Those who invest in our right to be seen are the ones who will help define what comes next.