In April of 2020 a series of blog posts appeared in Engaging Matters laying out potential difficulties
for the nonprofit arts industry when the COVID-19 pandemic eases.
The Uncertain–But Changed–Future
We are all (or maybe I should say most of us are) overcome with unanswerable questions. COVID-19 dominates our thinking and has drastically altered our lives. We are faced with impenetrable uncertainty about what comes next . . . and when it will come.
This is true for us as individuals. And while it may be difficult to focus too much on the fact, it is also true for our arts organizations. In both cases, whatever the new normal will be will be different, perhaps significantly so, from the old normal.
Almost inevitably, there will be more remote working, more video conferencing, more online access to cultural events–not like now, but more than there was. Handshakes and hugs among colleagues, even if they return, will be more circumscribed or at least less automatic. We will have a new appreciation for the gift of being able to see each other face to face; and, I hope, we will value the people who take advantage of our cultural offerings more deeply than before.
I have advocated for using this time to think about the future in new ways–Crisis as Opportunity and Community Citizenship. We can’t be about our normal business so why not imagine and prepare for a future in which we take steps leading us toward indispensability?
However, my thoughts are also turning a darker corner. I fear that the rampaging growth of income (and most other) inequality is going to be a raw wound on the other side of this crisis and that the nonprofit arts industry could be caught up in a widespread reaction against it.
The Threat of Inequality
I am not a historian or a sociologist, but I read enough to worry. On April 19, the New York Times published a series of articles addressing economic inequality in the U.S. One of those articles–Portrait of a Vulnerable Nation–was particularly stunning. Full of graphs, it demonstrates how the “haves” have gotten exponentially “havier” while the rest of the population has seen little or no improvement or, worse, deterioration in their situation over the past 40 years. I knew it was bad, but this article caused me heart palpitations. The potential for this to negatively impact the nonprofit arts industry is substantial.
Throughout its history, one of the safety valves for our nation has been a broadly held belief in the “American Dream”–the idea that anyone can rise from nothing to great success. Let’s acknowledge that this has never been actually true. Poverty, discrimination, and a host of other social ills have meant that the actual percentage of people for whom that dream was possible was small. However, belief in it has been pervasive among a large section of the population. As a result, unrest and rioting over economic conditions–and make no mistake there has been a good deal, especially around union action–has been limited in comparison to that found in other countries.
We now stand at a point where a new generation is going to be less well off than their parents. Belief in the American Dream has been on the decline for some time. And the reality of people’s experience with the pandemic is revealing class divides in ways that are stark and jarring.
This inequality or, to be more accurate, systemic injustice will be far more difficult to ignore than it has ever been. Awareness has been building over the last decade in particular from the Occupy movement to the Sanders and Warren campaigns.
The economic fallout from the coronavirus has been and will be cataclysmic, but its effects, especially once a rebound begins, will be far worse and recovery will be far slower for the bottom 90% than for the top 10%. And worse still for the middle and lower economic classes.
This is a deeply perilous prospect for the nonprofit arts industry. In the minds of many, we are closely associated with the economic and social “elite.” This may bode ill for those of us who work in this sector.
If we as a nation come out of the pandemic with a heightened awareness of and reaction to profound economic inequality and the systemic injustice in which it is rooted, it could be that the arts are in for a difficult time.
Which Side Are You On?
This association is as old as the U.S. I was first made aware of the depth and longevity of the attitude in Howard Zinn’s A People’s History of the United States. In it he documents a nineteenth-century riot in New York City in which a mob attacked the Astor Place Opera House, shouting, “Burn the damn den of aristocracy.”
The Astor Place Riot is a fascinating element of American history. The specific cause was a class-based controversy about whether a British or American actor was the better interpreter of Shakespeare. (I will now give everyone a moment to get their head around that! How times have changed from a moment in which Shakespeare’s plays were that important to mass audiences. ) The nativists favored the American; the elite, the Brit.
So antipathy toward “elite” arts has deep and old roots. I in no way envision post-pandemic replays of Astor Place. It is, however, possible that the body politic will come out of our current crisis more attuned to injustice than they were yesterday, and that policies and institutions associated with the “elite” could face extreme negative scrutiny.
If that is the case, I think of the Pete Seeger song, “Which Side Are You On?” (Lyrics) [The story is a part of U.S. history that few know–a violent confrontation between coal miners and law enforcement (supporting the mine owners) in southeastern Kentucky–but that’s not the point of mentioning it here.] It would make sense for any person, group, or institution to be seen as connected with (on the side of) broad sections of the population rather than a narrow niche.
It is also possible that we will come out of this with little immediate change in how extreme economic privilege is viewed. (The one-decade trajectory from the Occupy movement to the “mainstreaming” of Bernie Sanders, however, gives pause.)
Regardless, the viability of the nonprofit arts lies in expanding reach–becoming perceived as deeply valuable to many, many more people than is the case today. A pivot to engaging with new communities would be as timely as it is essential.
Conclusion
The post-pandemic world will be different, probably in significant ways. We have no idea what those ways will be.
There may not be a political reckoning as the result of any heightened awareness of inequality and injustice that this crisis has highlighted. I don’t expect violent social unrest. But I am not the only one imagining the possibility of big changes. Michelle Goldberg, a New York Times columnist recently said that “After the coronavirus, political transformation may be inevitable [The New Great Depression Is Coming. Will There be a New New Deal?];” and her colleague Frank Bruni [She Predicted the Coronavirus. What Does She See Next?] interviewed Laurie Garrett, a journalist whose career has focused on the global spread of diseases. One of her observations was “Just as we come out of our holes and see what 25 percent unemployment looks like,” she said, “we may also see what collective rage looks like.”
I don’t see myself as a crystal ball kind of guy, able to envision what exactly the future will be like. Others, notably Doug McLennan (founder and editor of ArtsJournal), are highlighting specific possibilities. [Parlez Vous Screen? and Arts: Rebuild What? And Why?] What does seem clear to me, as I said at the beginning, is that things will be different, perhaps profoundly so. It is also possible that the arts will suffer fallout from association with a wealthy class that will be distinctly out of favor.
It behooves us to spend some time considering how we might prepare not just for a new financial reality but for a new social one. It will be important to be and be seen as partners in making a better and more livable world–not just by being presenters of arts events but by being valuable community citizens. Of course the arts are our mission, but especially in times of crisis all individuals are more than their professions. We are human beings in the world. So too our organizations.
Community engagement is the practice of learning the concerns and interests of our communities and partnering with them in finding ways of addressing them. Most of the time that will be in the presentation of artistic experiences; but sometimes our communities need more from us. As but one example, Milwaukee Repertory Theater is yet another arts organization that has pitched in to make masks. Mask making is clearly not their mission, yet a community need was seen and MRT had resources it could bring to bear to address it. Given the Rep’s deep and long commitment to community engagement, this is no surprise. And Milwaukeeans, even those who are not theatergoers, will remember this work long after the pandemic eases.
Our industry has long needed to significantly expand its reach, the percentage of the population that view us and our work with sufficient favor to consider attending our events. The pandemic has not lessened that need. Stepping up now and then continuing to focus on addressing community concerns is a means of accomplishing that. It’s in our long-term interest to do so.
Doug Borwick