For a payday, apparently.
Last Sunday, I was a Black person at the Hay Festival, there for a payday – a book-review panel in the BBC Marquee. Finished, checked out the site, did a little maths as I walked.
Subtract the artists and their guests. Subtract the staff. What remains is a large crowd so white that it reflects no part of Britain I have ever heard of (I live in west Wales and know what an ethnically meagre landscape looks like). I expect the 2026 Reform Party conference to be considerably more ethnically diverse than the 2026 Hay Festival.
What would Hay have to do to make their literary festival more diverse? was the question that Sairah, my volunteer carer, asked amid my moaning and groaning. Not complicated, was my reply. Highlight books and host talks about books written for readers of colour.
We had already noted that the festival bookshop featured a fair few books about the Black experience, but slim pickings for Black readers. Likewise, the speakers and topics occasionally spoke of the Black experience, but never with a Black audience in mind. The distinction matters. And until this distinction is addressed and resolved, why would Black people choose to go to Hay?
British publishing rarely considers audiences beyond the narrowest band of mainstream readers, we know that. Hay is the product of the industry thinking and working this way. Bottom line, if you really want to know what the one imagined reader for UK publishing looks like, check out the 2026 Hay Festival.
The question Sairah asked was what Hay would have to do. The more critical question is why they have not already done it. The answer? the Hay crowd is not an accident – it is UK publishing policy.
Gareth James | Chief Reader