Like many others, when the exclusive Fyre festival in the Bahamas last year unravelled, I just thought it was a bit of a laugh. Anyone daft enough to spend up to £75,000 to see Blink 182 deserved a Hunger Games scenario.

But after watching the documentaries on Netflix and Hulu, I am gobsmacked. This festival involved all those people who have those non-jobs that no one understands: the start-up bros, the events team, the consultants, the endless PR and advertising types, all of whom act as if they are neurosurgeons. In this hierarchy of evil, the chancers at the top of the pile are of course “the influencers” – mostly models who get paid £250,000 to put a shot on Instagram.

The Fyre festival was masterminded, though that word is entirely inappropriate, by the promoter Billy McFarland as an aspirational, super-luxe festival on an island previously owned by Pablo Escobar. There was no infrastructure there, but tickets were sold to “losers” who wanted in after watching promo videos featuring supermodels on boats in azure water.

Many seemed to realise early on that the “genius” of McFarland – who is currently in prison for fraud – was simply in flogging a fantasy. There was no accommodation or transport. The most sensible person was a pilot who had taught himself to fly on flight simulators and thought that building toilets for the festivalgoers might be as important as flying in Bella Hadid. The tents were soaked, there was no food, cars or private jets. It was a monstrous scam pulled on those we think are rich and stupid enough to deserve it. But of course the locals suffered – although at least a crowdfunding page has been set up to pay them for their work.

The organisers should have been accountable. But nothing is real, except cashflow. This is not fiddling as Rome burns – the organisers couldn’t even locate Rome on a map. Truly a parable for our times.