You cannot miss the physical presence of tourism in Bali. There are hotels, bungalows, restaurants, shops and new roads everywhere. Much more money moves through the island than before. My concern is where that money finally settles.
Most of it stays with the owners at the top, not with the people who make the products or do the daily work. The benefits reaching local communities are small compared with the social and environmental costs required to produce them.
Our society has become more materialistic. Local wisdom is pushed to the side. People who once spent their days in agriculture now spend their time serving tourists and earning money. This also changes the time available for community and religious life.
Ceremony preparations used to happen whenever they were needed. Today they must be fitted around business hours. Some families hire other people, often workers from Java, to make preparations because they no longer have time to do the work themselves.
Bali also attracts outsiders because it is seen as a safe and pleasant place to invest and live. This is not only about tourism, but the growth it creates is changing the island. Natural resources are being used up, and we import more food—even materials needed for ceremonies—because local production cannot meet the needs of the growing population.
Our traditional Subak irrigation system is not only technical. It is social, spiritual and controlled by farmers. When it is replaced, farmers lose part of their independence.
Government controls on rice prices have encouraged farmers to use varieties imported from Java because they can be harvested more often than traditional Balinese rice. But they need costly pesticides and fertilisers that damage the environment. They also depend on new irrigation technology brought from outside.
Roads built through rice fields have damaged irrigation channels and removed more land from production. Step by step, farmers become less able to decide how they use their land and water.
Healthcare is expensive, but its quality has not improved enough. Education has expanded without teaching students to think critically or connect lessons to everyday life. Public transport has not provided a serious alternative to cars and motorbikes. International loans were supposed to improve infrastructure, but Bali still lacks an effective policy for managing traffic.
A World Bank-supported land certification programme made it easier for people to prove ownership and sell land. That may sound useful, but quick access to money can also become a quick route back to poverty. The money is spent, while the land passes to an outside investor who wants to build a hotel or golf course.
By my estimate, around a quarter of Bali’s land is already being used for tourism. The share keeps growing as investors expand and the government continues to approve new projects.
Crime has reached levels I never saw before: robbery, theft, drug dealing, prostitution and even the exploitation of children. I believe many of these activities were introduced by outsiders, although some young Balinese people have also been drawn into them.
I call some of these young people the “floating generation.” They are unsure what they want from life. They experiment with different lifestyles because the community connections that once gave them direction have weakened.
People have become more individualistic, although I believe their relationship with religion remains strong. Government influence has made ceremonial clothing more uniform, partly because Balinese people are not always encouraged to question instructions from above.
Women now compete with men for many of the same jobs. In the past, women were expected to care for children and organise ceremonies, while men worked and spent some of their free time gambling. That division is changing. Some changes are positive, but they also place new pressures on family and community life.
Parents once saw a child as someone who would inherit the family’s knowledge and continue its work. Many young people now have little interest in the family trade. Tourism seems to offer quicker money and a more modern identity.
If we do not limit tourism development, those who profited can leave Bali, while we remain with damage that cannot be repaired.
I want a more transparent tax system. Bali earns money by selling its culture, yet local people cannot clearly see how much of that money returns to the culture and communities that created it. We also need a real voice in tourism decisions.
Before the Suharto period, community-level democracy was strong in Bali. Centralised and military-influenced government weakened it. Now I see communities slowly trying to claim their voice again, and that gives me some hope.
Ideally, Bali should not need tourism in order to survive. Tourism should be something extra, not the foundation beneath everything. I continue to dream that one day we will make the changes needed to protect the island and decide our own future.