A lost decade in culture
Britain is playing catch-up in so many areas of public policy
All governments accuse their predecessors, if they hail from another party, of leaving them a bad inheritance. The only variable to this golden rule of politics is the extent of the vehemence and the extent of the truth of the claims.
In the UK, Labour has been at it almost daily since it took power a few weeks ago; the Tories did just the same in 2010 at the start of their torrid 14 years in charge.
Detailed performance audits help to cut through the rhetoric. I was delighted when Anthony Seldon, historian and indefatigable Renaissance Man, asked me at the end of last year to contribute to an anthology he was editing, called ‘The Conservative Effect’. The book contains chapters, inter alia, the economy, foreign and defence policy, health, education, environment. (More on them later…)
I was asked to write the one on culture, by dint of my time establishing and chairing Turner Contemporary in Margate in the late noughties, and now the Quentin Blake Centre for Illustration in London. Most of all, it was due to my tenure founding the Creative Industries Federation in 2014, whose job it was to try to inject some muscle into lobbying for a creative sector that has almost always struggled to get its voice heard - even though it is one of the most successful sectors of the British economy.
Since then I have moved back to my traditional home of foreign and security policy; so it was enjoyable to revive old acquaintanceships and update my knowledge base in researching the chapter. I was not surprised to see that in the intervening period, the Tory record on culture had become ever more dreadful.
This is what I wrote, by way of introduction - you can either buy the book or read a cut-down version commissioned by the Guardian:
The fishing industry contributes barely £1bn to the British economy. That is 0.03% of GDP. Put it another way: it is roughly equivalent in size to visual effects, a sub-category of a category of the creative industries.
Conservative ministers made repeated visits to the nation’s ports to extol the virtues of an almost moribund trade. By contrast, a sector that has been the fastest growing for two decades, that contributes more than £120bn, that in other countries would be seen as an essential component of the good society, was largely seen as an afterthought. The 14 years of Tory rule constitute a stunning missed opportunity to seize on one of Britain’s few internationally renowned assets – its creativity.
I run through the range of policy interventions, or non-interventions - from the size of the public culture budget, to promotion of the commercial creative industries, to the health (or otherwise) of institutions in the regions, to arts education. I laud the tax credit system introduced by George Osborne early in the coalition years, swift and generous emergency support during the pandemic and one or two other initiatives. In terms of positives, however, that was pretty much that.
In 2010, shortly before the start of the Conservative era, Jeremy Hunt (the Culture Secretary to be), promised a “golden age for the arts”. A “US-style culture of philanthropy” would take the strain from the public purse, releasing new cash and a new era of entrepreneurialism.
None of this happened, except the cuts - a staggering 21% cut in real terms, while 30% was removed from local authority budgets. Arts Council England was reduced in size and told not to make political interventions. Its grant constitutes less than 0.05% of total government spending. Or rather, a rounding up exercise on the average overspend on a single aircraft carrier.
The difference with our European counterparts is staggering. In Germany - a country that obsesses about balancing the books - the culture budget has increased by 70% over the past decade. There is hardly a small- or medium-sized town that doesn’t have a flourishing theatre, and/or concert hall and/or art gallery.
During Covid, cultural workers were included among the list of priority workers. Imagine… Many French towns and villages have proudly held their own arts festivals for years. France has led the way with a ‘Culture Pass’ for students reaching the age of 18. Spain has done the same, providing even more, €400 to each young person to spend on any art form.
I provided these comparisons during a 45-minute ‘special’ on Front Row, on BBC Radio 4, dedicated to arts funding just over a week ago. (The programme also looked at the ethics in commercial fund-raising following the controversy over Baillie Gifford, an investment company that has invested considerably in literary festivals but is also accused of links with fossil fuels and Israel).
Money is necessary, vital even, but it is also insufficient when assessing a country’s approach to culture. It is also about art’s place in society, as I continue in my piece:
The Department of Culture, Media and Sport is rarely seen as a destination of choice. Apart from Chris Smith in the early Blair years, few have left their mark. Under the Tories, 12 culture secretaries in 14 years invites ridicule. None emerges well. Hunt, the first, offered up even greater cuts than the chancellor George Osborne could stomach. (The total agreed was already swingeing.)
He was followed by Maria Miller, who could not name anything she had seen at the British Museum beyond the mummies. Sajid Javid had little time for the “luvvies”. Karen Bradley: who was she? John Whittingdale was driven by loathing of the BBC. Matt Hancock will be remembered for his private life; paradoxically, he was one of the better incumbents, advocating strongly for the digital and music briefs.
When I was researching “Why the Germans Do It Better” - or as I like to joke, the more accurate title should have been “Why the Germans Do Many Things Better Much of the Time”, but that wouldn’t have sold so well - one of the anecdotes that resonated most with me (and subsequently with readers) was this one: David Cameron was visiting Angela Merkel at her residence north of Berlin in April 2013.
On the Saturday evening, she invited a group of cultural and political figures with links to both countries. To break the ice, she talked about operas, theatres and museums she had visited. Even as chancellor, she would phone gallery directors on her mobile to request that she sneak into a particular exhibition. She asked Cameron what he had seen. He stuttered and said he liked watching TV, adding that he would have loved to go to concerts but feared being hounded by the press.
Only in the UK, I contend, would a sector which delivers so much to so many be constantly required to justify its existence.
There’s lots more to say - not least the damage wrought by Brexit to Britain’s global and cultural reputation - in the Guardian piece and in my longer chapter.
Returning to the book, briefly: I smiled when Anthony S told me its subtitle. “14 Wasted Years?” My only question, while reading the contributions, was: why the question mark? Maybe that’s because several of the others are academics. Most of the assessments are excoriating, such as Rachel Sylvester on a health system in crisis and Michael Marmot on how a sharp increase in relative poverty has been a direct result of policy priorities.
I’m still working my way through more than 500 pages of fascinating and forensic analysis. It’s a fascinating read, and also useful for me as I research my current oeuvre, looking at global best practice across several policy areas. We could learn so much from others. If only we Brits shed our bombast. In this regard, Keir Starmer and his ministers have started well.