In 2013, Sumac visited Camp Playapology at Burning Man. Her account of the visit remains one of our most popular posts.

In 2019, Snarly went to Burning Man for the first time. Her spouse, Dr. Cheezie, was attending his 22nd Burn. (It’s a mixed marriage.) Of course she had to visit Camp Playapology.

As Sumac noted six years ago, Playapology exists to help Burners apologize. It was started by D-Stracted and MadKap (aka David and Matt) seven years ago. Its genesis: D-Stracted had previously been a lousy, lazy camp member at a different camp. Camp Playapology’s very first delivery was to D-Stracted’s earlier campmates.

In the camp’s own words, they’re “part playa florist, part relationship repair therapy, part social experiment on atonement.” So let’s say you’re in Black Rock City and you’ve done something you know caused pain to someone else. You can visit Playapology and go through their homemade selection of apology cards (or make your own — they offer art supplies), deliver the card yourself or ask Playapology volunteers to do it. You can even send wine or flowers (artificial ones — real flowers aren’t allowed because the petals create MOOP, which stands for Matter Out of Place, aka detritus that would sully this starkly beautiful place).

You can also request a singing Sorrygram, delivered via a state-of-the-art-ish boom box (below) with your choice of apology songs on individual thumb drives. For what it’s worth, Sorrywatch would not forgive anyone who sent us Justin Bieber.

This year the camp had around 22 participants. “It’s been bigger, but we like it small,” D-Stracted told Snarly. Campers are asked to put in one 3.5-hour shift; they rarely fail to show up. Which is somewhat unusual. Burners are not always reliable, as the choice of apology cards seems to indicate.

The camp hosts fun events throughout the week: A Sorry Soirée on the first Sunday night, A ¡Lo Siento Hora Feliz! on Tuesday with sangria and Latin music, and a huge Hail Bloody Mary Saturday event Snarly and Cheezie had just missed. Fortunately, while Snarly interviewed the Playapology founders, fellow campers plied Cheezie with a variety of flavored vodka shots. They had 34 kinds.

Playapology tends to attract mensches. Or at least, people who can be counted on. “An important thing is that we’re adults,” D-Stracted said. “We’re in our 30s and up. I’m 52 — I’m the oldest. We’re kind to each other and we don’t run out of Bloody Mary mix.” Lots of the campers are scientists and psychologists. “I’d guess we have more Ph.Ds in our camp than any other,” posited MadKap, a molecular biologist with his own lab. (D-Stracted, a TV writer and producer in Los Angeles, is the odd man out — among other credits, he helped create the show My Cat From Hell.) MadKap guesstimated that around 50% of the campers have doctorates, which impressed Dr. Cheezie. (Dr. Cheezie has a doctorate too, as do about 30% of the campers at his camp, Liminal Labs. Not that anyone is competitive.)

“We are a snark-free zone,” MadKap said. “This camp is sincere. Burning Man can be a snarky place, and we want to be a refuge from that. People often come by to say, ‘Hey, I came here three years ago and you saved my relationship,’ or ‘You saved my camp.'” As if on cue, a young woman biked up and said, “I just wanted to tell you guys this is my first Burn and you’re my favorite camp.”

You may also avail yourself of the services of a Conciliation Concierge. This helpful individual will talk to you about what you did wrong, ask questions, and help you determine a course of action. “We don’t deliver an apology if it’s better for them to do it themselves,” Concierge Sue told me. “But sometimes it’s better for us to do it if they don’t know how it will be received.” For instance, a drunk guy who had been rude to a bartender realized in the semi-sober light of day that he’d erred and wanted to apologize, but wasn’t sure the bartender would want to see him again. In this case, a third-party apology was a good choice.

The most frequent apology topics involve rudeness, murky consent issues, and irresponsibility. Are there any apologies Playapology refuses to deliver? “Cheating is something we’re careful with,” D-Stracted said. “Maybe you don’t really want a stranger coming into your camp with a singing telegram: ‘Sorry I fucked someone else!'” Instead, the Conciliation Concierge helps people figure out why they cheated; then they help them determine what to say to the wronged party. If the sinner just wants absolution but doesn’t really get what they did wrong and/or isn’t determined to amend their behavior, Playapology won’t aid and abet them.

Like SorryWatch, Playapology doesn’t believe in apologizing when you don’t mean it. They’re dead serious about it, whether the issue is infidelity or something less weighty. At the Bloody Mary party, for instance, guests are asked to share something from the previous week that they regret. If they answer sarcastically or flippantly, MadKap refuses to serve them. (And if they’re truly regretful, they can choose to be paddled or flogged. If they want! Consent is key!)

Snarly asked MadKap why he was interested in co-creating the camp. Partially he was interested in building the infrastructure (he’s handier than D-Stracted; the camp has a cool, efficient modular structure). But he was also interested in the impact of apologies. “People have so much trouble with them,” he reflected. “But when you own your part it’s really powerful. It’s hard to own your own guilt.” Sometimes, though, you just have to sit with the discomfort. “You shouldn’t apologize if you’re going to cause more pain,” he said. “Maybe the best thing for you is to feel guilty and not expect to be absolved.”

One of the 10 Principles of Burning Man is gifting. “The value of a gift is unconditional,”  says of the event’s web site. “Gifting does not contemplate a return or an exchange for something of equal value.” That’s true for apologies, too. You don’t apologize because you want an apology in return. You don’t demand to be forgiven.

MadKap gave Snarly a gift — a little muslin bag with steampunk-y trimmings.

Inside she found two sets of earplugs in cute little containers and two bright plastic blinky lights. There was also a note, reading in part: “One item in each pair is meant for you, and the other is for you to re-gift to anyone you’d like, friend or stranger.”

Like apologies, small gifts often have wider repercussions. And like apologies, unexpected kindnesses help create a world we want to live in…and not only for one week in the desert with no pants on.