An early adopter of the digital nomad lifestyle, Nick Hilden has seen the Mexican town of Puerto Escondido boom—and admits one of his articles may have helped fuel it. He explores the benefits, problems and solutions of temporary communities, and how long-stay visitors can benefit the community they’re living in.
Cities small and large around the globe—from Puerto Escondido to Lisbon, Chiang Mai to Medellín, Ubud to Mexico City—are floundering under the rising tide of so-called ‘digital nomads’. An expanding class of location-independent workers, you’ll find them wherever the cost of living is low, the visa rules amenable, and the wifi decent. They travel to make the most of the opportunities for experience afforded by remote work—which seems reasonable enough—but their growing numbers tend to bring problems wherever they go.
Local families are priced out of their own communities as homes are converted to high-cost Airbnbs and stronger currencies from abroad drive up prices. Traditional aesthetics are replaced by foreign-friendly, Instagrammable design. Infrastructures are overwhelmed. And in the case of some of the more festive destinations, what I call Tulum Syndrome [the Mexican beach town of Tulum] sets in by which a place becomes submerged in a more or less ongoing party, and local people end up attempting to fall asleep nightly to the thump of bass and drunken racket.
I am somewhat embarrassed to admit that I directly contributed to the rise of said syndrome in one place in particular when I began writing about Puerto Escondido back in the mid-2010s. Today, the town has become so inundated with digital nomads that organizations like SOS Puerto have emerged to advocate for sustainable tourism—an effort that we travelers would be smart to support if we’d like the places we visit to maintain the charm that draws us there in the first place.
The digital nomad lifestyle isn’t new. It’s at least as old as the internet, and I myself took to it over a decade ago back before Airbnb was even a thing. But if this was already a fast-rising trend before 2020, the expansion of remote work necessitated by lockdowns inspired scores of the newly de-officed to embrace the travel life.
I don’t blame them. It makes perfect sense to take full advantage of one’s freedom of movement, and I too enjoy the itinerant lifestyle. There is vast potential value in travel for individuals, the communities they visit, and the world (aside from its impact on climate change, which we’ll get to in a moment)—IF it can be exercised with wisdom rather than exploitation.
Without a doubt, one of the biggest benefits of the digital nomad lifestyle involves one’s ability to take a strong currency into an economy where it has inordinate power.
Large-scale, systematic things will have to be done to address the problems that follow this new privileged class—the members of which can essentially come and go as they please from communities in which they have no stake—because remote work is only going to increase. But that’s all for another time. For now, let’s look at a few things individual digital nomads can do to alleviate the strain on foreigner-riddled destinations.
It starts with where you decide to go. Many cities have become notoriously popular among digital nomad crowds, and while I understand the inclination to see these typically incredible places—I love me some Chiang Mai just as much as the next fella—sometimes the best thing you can do for a destination inundated with tourists is go someplace else.
Over the years, I have seen countless people treat the destination they’re visiting like it’s an amusement park. They behave as if local laws and customs—let alone common decency—don’t apply.
Puerto Escondido is not Disneyland. Bali is not Burning Man. The people who live in these destinations are not employees or event staff. They’re normal people living their lives, working jobs, and raising families. As a visitor, you need to keep in mind that you will come and go, but their community will remain. It is their home far more than it is your adventure.
Without a doubt, one of the biggest benefits of the digital nomad lifestyle involves one’s ability to take a strong currency into an economy where it has inordinate power.
Money from Australia, the UK, the US, or Europe will go far in places like Vietnam, Turkey, or Mexico, but keep in mind that the average Mexican earns 500 pesos a day—just $45 USD. That means how and where visitors spend their money can have an oversized impact on the lives of those in the community.
Travel ecologically. That means reducing flights and using electric transport when possible, spending money wisely regarding environmental considerations, and cleaning up your rubbish and generating as little of it as you can.
Spend your money in locally owned businesses, ideally those run by private owners rather than large management companies, and those that leverage sustainable practices.
Avoid purchasing single-use plastics that will end up in an overburdened landfill. And don’t support businesses that have a negative impact on the community, which tend to be rather notorious for prioritizing money and the whims of tourists over matters like responsible waste management, consideration for neighbors, and fair labor practices.
Travel is, frankly, terrible by virtually every ecological metric. As of 2019, commercial flights accounted for 2.4 percent of carbon emissions, and while that number dipped somewhat over the next two years due to pandemic-diminished travel rates, travel is rebounding and it’s only going to increase.
All told, the carbon and other gas emissions from aviation translate into 3.5 percent of global warming—and that doesn’t even include the impact travel has on the environment locally and globally once visitors have arrived at their destination.
Travel ecologically. That means reducing flights and using electric transport when possible, spending money wisely regarding environmental considerations, and cleaning up your rubbish and generating as little of it as you can. There are increasingly quality programs you can fund to offset the carbon output of your flights.
Do your research before giving them your money (some are scams); Sustainable Travel International is among those with a good reputation. Others favor supporting organizations such as World Land Trust which raises funds to buy and then protect environmentally-threatened land around the world.
You don’t need to be able to recite the national anthem or anything like that, but put in at least the bare minimum effort to learn basic politenesses.
You’d think this one would be self-evident, but over the past decade I’ve encountered countless megalomaniac travelers who don’t seem to realize or care that other people exist. The internet is awash with videos of these entitled travel Karens and Kens, who move through the world as if it’s their own private concierge service.
Be humble. Be patient. Be nice. A bit of self-awareness goes a long way in ensuring that the people living in a place will continue to welcome visitors there—or at least welcome you.
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When he's not wandering the world, Nick Hilden splits his time living between Seattle and Mexico City. He writes about travel, culture, science, and other topics for the likes of Afar, the Washington Post, Esquire, National Geographic, Popular Science, and many more.
