This article was previously published in a modified form in *de Volkskrant*.
On the day of Donald Trump's inauguration george Lakoff published 17 things things you can do to save democracy during Trump’s second term.
In that piece, Lakoff states the obvious quite a bit, but he also makes a few good points. And one in particular resonated with me—the one about the social and democratic importance of art and culture.
People often ask me if I find it difficult to have one foot in civil society and the other in the cultural sector. People at NGOs or advocacy groups don’t always understand why it’s important to spend time helping or funding a museum, a theater, a musician, or an artist. Don’t we have more urgent problems to solve than keeping a modern art institution afloat? Conversely, some in the cultural sector have come to view social issues and organizations primarily as challenges and threats: “complicated” mandates from the government, such as increasing the number of women of color in top leadership positions. Or they are (rightly) focused on securing their artworks against actions by climate activists or fearing pro-Palestinian activists.
However, I’ve never had much trouble explaining the connection between the two worlds. In doing so, I also gratefully draw on the clichés I often see on protest signs: “Earth without Art is just Eh” or “No Music on a Dead Planet.” In short: we need a livable planet to save art, and we need art to make life on the planet worth living. But the connection runs even deeper, as Lakoff also emphasizes:
“Literature, music, and art are essential to a healthy society and a functioning democracy. Fund them and support them in every way you can. Artists, musicians, and writers will help inspire the changes we need.”
George Lakoff is the father of narrative thinking and framing. I recently used the following example during a storytelling workshop to explain the differences between superficial frames and stories, narratives, and the deeper narratives underlying them: *Jaws* is a story about a man who has to kill a shark. Together with many other stories, this contributes to the narrative “sharks are scary and dangerous.” The deeper narrative underlying it—which is always present—is about the fear of the unknown and the relationship between humans and nature.
It’s easy to get stuck in a superficial framework when discussing budget cuts to culture or reforms to codes or the cultural system: culture is valuable because it generates revenue for our economy. So many people work in the cultural sector. We need a new code to promote good governance in the sector. We need to pay more attention to geographic distribution when allocating cultural grants. All of this is true, yet it’s less important. These are, at most, causes or consequences of something that runs deeper—something we as a society seem to forget: art and culture are intrinsically important. It inspires, sparks the imagination, provokes, and challenges. Art connects and weaves people together, brings strangers closer, and can break down prejudices. And because it does this so successfully, it has rightfully and naturally earned an important place in our economy and labor market. For that reason, it is all the more painful and harmful when there is poor governance or unsafe working environments. And that is why it is scandalous that, for decades, so little funding has gone to the arts and culture outside the four major cities. But these are consequences of the importance of culture, not arguments for its importance.
By limiting your argument to those kinds of superficial frames, you risk falling into your opponent’s frame: judging things solely on their economic value. Yet I still see the cultural lobby primarily using these arguments.
In short, Lakoff was right: we must support and fund artists and the arts. And not because they contribute so much to the policy goals of the political issues of the day, or because they have to compete with the port or steel industries as economic drivers. Artists don’t have to change the world, but those who do change the world need art. Advocating for the cultural sector, therefore, starts with learning to better convey the true value of art and culture—to funders, your audience, and, above all, politicians and policymakers. I’d be happy to help you with that.
