The rice fields are vanishing. The Wi-Fi is on Hyper 5G. The soul of Bali may be caught somewhere in between. As digital nomads flood the island in search of paradise, locals are asking, at whose cost?
Bali’s tropical charm, cheap Wi-Fi, and wellness scene has turned it into a hotspot for remote workers. However, locals argue that without mindful regulation, the influx of people working remotely risks suffocating the island’s culture and environment.
Villas in places like Canggu rent for around $1,800/month and attract nomads seeking work-and-play balance.
Demand is inflating rents—locals report housing costs tripling—and is stretching the island’s civil infrastructures such as roads, sewage, and water systems to maximum capacity.
Lisbon Portugal offers a cautionary tale—its embrace of digital nomads was followed by a sharp rise in housing costs and local displacement, prompting the city to introduce rental caps and local-first housing zones.
Indonesia launched the Second Home Visa in late 2022, allowing remote workers to stay for up to 10 years—highlighting the need for balanced policies that welcome income from digital nomads while protecting local communities and preventing neocolonial-style development.
Locals in scenic Bali say the cultural toll is just as concerning, with growing frustration over loud parties, disrespect near temples, and a lack of understanding of traditions.
Noise and drunkenness near temples have spurred petitions with thousands of signatures demanding enforcement of basic etiquette.
Environmental groups like Sungai Watch warn that waste management can’t keep up.
Beaches and rivers are increasingly clogged with trash, and environmental activists warn that green zones are rapidly disappearing, raising concerns about long-term, irreversible damage if action isn’t taken soon.
Some hope comes from grassroots action. In Seseh village, Adat leaders negotiated with developers on a beachfront resort project.
According to the Leaders, who claim to be custodians of Bali’s traditional laws and cultural practices—collaborated with developers to ensure the development aligned with local values.
The agreement called for local hiring, use of traditional materials, and community-led design, marking a promising example of development shaped by customary governance.
Meanwhile, policymakers are taking note. Indonesia’s B‑211A and E33G visas now allow longer stays for nomads, but immigration and tax authorities are cracking down on tourist-visa work.
Many remote workers still use tourist visas (not work-eligible) to stay and work remotely — often renting villas and working for foreign clients, tax-free. The government is now trying to differentiate between tourists and legitimate digital nomads who follow the rules.
At the provincial level, discussions are underway about moratoriums on new nightclubs, villas, and hotels in overdeveloped zones like Canggu and Seminyak.
Co‑working hubs are stepping up too, with nomad-hosted mentorship sessions for local entrepreneurs, helping share skills and build bridges. Some argue that these initiatives could be expanded, ideally encouraged through joint public-private schemes.
In Chiang Mai Thailand, respectful regulation helped temper localised discontentment. Buffer zones around temples and multilingual etiquette signage have helped restore cultural boundaries. Simple measures—noise curfews, etiquette workshops— have allegedly eased hostilities.
