Why so many UK Prides are struggling for funding right now
Pride should be a celebration. A mix of joy, protest and community. But across the UK, more and more Pride events are struggling to survive. Manchester Pride has just sadly gone into liquidation after failing to recover financially, and it’s not the only one at risk.
The obvious answer is cost of living. Everything is more expensive: insurance, security, medical staff, temporary fencing, toilets, barriers, power, artist fees, and all the other logistics people never think about. But from what I’ve seen through my work in PR and social media, I don’t think that’s the only reason.
This is just a presumption, but it feels like Pride is being hit by a wider cultural shift that’s made brands nervous, communities divided, and sponsorships harder to justify.
The brand pullback
With my agency Honest, I’ve noticed a big change over the past few years. Clients who used to sponsor Pride events have quietly stepped back. This year, most didn’t want to do anything public for Pride Month at all.
When I’ve asked why, the reasoning has been consistent: the last time they sponsored or posted about Pride, they got flooded with angry emails asking what they were doing for the rest of the year. Others said they were accused of being performative or tokenistic.
I even remember Sainsbury’s having Pride celebrations outside their store a year or two ago, and people were posting TikToks absolutely slamming them for it. And these weren’t homophobic people. They were members of the LGBT community criticising the company. I honestly find that absurd. Maybe I’m missing the bigger picture, but it’s confusing to me that a brand trying to show support gets attacked by the very people it’s trying to stand with.
People call it lazy, but they’re still taking a public stance, still putting their brand out there and risking backlash from those who are anti-LGBT. And just to be clear, I couldn’t care less if it offends a homophobe - that’s not the point I’m making. I’m saying from a financial perspective, these brands are often risking money, customers and reputation to show support. You can’t really win when you’re being criticised by both gay people and homophobic people for the same campaign.
And I’ll admit, I’ve even been guilty of warning clients about this. As a PR, I’ve had to tell companies to think carefully before posting during Pride Month, because sadly, the backlash does happen. I’ve seen the emails. I’ve seen customers message businesses with abuse, and not from homophobes, but from those who support LGBT rights. It’s conflicting to watch brands try to do something positive, only to be mocked for it. At some point, they start asking the question: “Why are we bothering?”
That backlash has stuck. Many of these brands genuinely wanted to support the LGBT+ community, but the response was so hostile that they decided not to risk it again.
Costs and logistics that people forget
Running a Pride event isn’t cheap or simple. Most people don’t realise what goes into it: road closures, insurance, toilets, security staff, stage hire, lighting, sound engineers, barriers, accessible platforms, crowd control, waste management, licences, artist fees, first aid and marketing.
Some of the bigger Prides in the UK have budgets in the millions. Even smaller, volunteer-run ones cost well over £100,000 to stage. When sponsorship drops off, there’s no realistic way to cover those costs without cutting corners or raising ticket prices, and that goes against what Pride is supposed to be.
UK Black Pride are a great example of doing everything they can to keep their event free so anyone, regardless of income, can turn up, feel safe and just be themselves. They’re absolutely fantastic.
Boycotts and backlash culture
Another problem that doesn’t get talked about enough is how much Pride events are now getting caught in the crossfire of online boycotts.
Boycotting has become the default reaction to almost everything. Boycott this brand for supporting one cause, boycott that brand for not supporting another, boycott a company for advertising in a certain country. It’s endless.
And it’s just crazy. I’m genuinely struggling to understand why people are shooting themselves in the foot by attacking Prides, big or small, for their decisions or for simply trying to secure sponsorship to put on what is, at its heart, a lovely, safe event. These things take months of planning, huge teams, and endless logistics, yet people still find ways to criticise.
What’s the alternative? You successfully push away a massive brand that was willing to fund a Pride, to give people who feel scared to be themselves day to day a chance for one day of escapism. For what? So you can think, ha. I genuinely don’t understand what the win is there for people. It’s self-sabotaging behaviour. And why do you care if a “boycotted” brand is, god forbid, helping fund something positive? Who actually cares?
What I know people will say to this is that brands shouldn’t be the heroes, that Pride shouldn’t rely on corporate money, and that taking donations from big companies is somehow selling out. I get that. It’s a fair point in theory. But in reality, Pride costs money, a lot of it, and that money has to come from somewhere.
This isn’t Disneyland. Money doesn’t grow on trees. It would be lovely if every Pride could be funded entirely by small businesses and kind-hearted people with perfectly innocent backgrounds and flawless moral records. But the truth is, those who end up on boycott lists are usually the same ones who have the actual budgets to help. You can’t build stages, hire security or rent toilets on good intentions alone.
And this weird wave of boycott culture and anti-brand outrage has landed right in the middle of a cost of living crisis, where money is tighter than ever. Prides need sponsorships now more than they ever have, because there’s less public money available and fewer safety nets to fall back on. It’s the worst possible timing to start pushing away potential support.
If a company genuinely wants to contribute, and that funding allows people to feel seen, safe or represented, then why would we reject that? You can hold brands accountable and still accept help from the ones trying to do better. Demanding moral perfection from everyone who supports you isn’t activism, it’s ego.
And in reality, you can’t avoid these so-called boycotted brands anyway. Let’s be honest, Google’s been on the boycott list for years. You probably Googled the company to check if you should be boycotting them. There are contradictions in absolutely everything.
It doesn’t make you morally superior to tear down something that exists to make people feel seen and safe.
The identity problem
There’s also confusion over what Pride even is these days. I’ve spoken to people who genuinely don’t know anymore. Some see it as a protest, others as a party, some as a fundraiser or a chance to celebrate visibility. It’s become so many things at once that even those within the community sometimes question who it’s really for.
That lack of clarity creates space for criticism. When people can’t clearly see the purpose or the outcome, they assume it’s been lost. In PR terms, that’s the same as any brand crisis: if you don’t define your message, the public defines it for you.
Events like Manchester Pride have been criticised in the past for being “too corporate” or for cutting charity grants while spending heavily on production. Once that kind of reputational trust is damaged, it’s hard to rebuild, especially when people already feel cynical about where their money’s going.
What Pride needs to survive
If Pride events are going to last, they need both transparency and partnership. From a PR perspective:
Make it safe again for brands to show support. Create clear guidelines and joint comms plans so they don’t feel exposed to backlash.
Be open about costs. Break down where money actually goes, from stage hire to security, so the community understands the financial reality.
Diversify revenue. Don’t rely on one or two big sponsors. Include small businesses, community grants, philanthropy, and year-round collaborations.
Rebuild trust. Keep Pride’s purpose visible. It’s about visibility, safety and equality, not just a weekend party.
It’s ironic. The fight against rainbow-washing was supposed to make Pride more authentic, but it’s ended up driving brands away altogether. Combined with rising costs, confusion over purpose and constant online outrage, Pride has lost the commercial safety net that once kept it secure.
If we want it to survive, we need to find a balance where brands feel safe to help, communities feel represented, and Pride stays true to what it was meant to be: a space for everyone.
Somewhere along the line, people have started directing their anger at the wrong things. There are far bigger problems in the world than a company sponsoring a Pride or a small error made at one. Perfection has become the expectation for everything, and the moment something isn’t flawless, it’s torn apart online. But progress doesn’t come from fear or silence. It comes from people trying, even if they don’t get it right every single time.
We can’t keep punishing the ones who are at least trying to do something good.