The Economics Of The Arts

Mark Blaug

• Publisher: Taylor & Francis
• Year: 2019
• eBook ISBN: 9781000316278
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Social Sciences
• Subtopic: Sociology
• Index: Social Sciences

The economics of the Arts is a new field with a small but rapidly-growing literature, which has emerged in recent years out of the eagerness of economists to apply their techniques to hitherto untried areas and the recognition by Arts administrators of the rapidly increasing economic pressures on the Arts. This book of readings is the first of its kind. Of the 16 articles, 8 are directly concerned with the Arts in America; the other 8 deal with the British scene. What can economics say about so non-economic a subject as the Arts? Obviously, finance for the Arts involves economic considerations. But in addition, economics provides, among other things, a logic of rational choice, and the economists' style of thinking, therefore, is adaptable to any problem of choice in respect of any set of goals, whether they be economic goals or not. Then, there is the question of whether economics can provide a case for public support for the Arts, that is, whether the State should subsidize the Arts. This is a familiar problem in the economics of welfare but its application to the Arts raises novel questions and even economists are not agreed on whether economics can provide such a rationale. Also, there is the question of criteria for public expenditure on the Arts, assuming that the case for some public expenditure has been made. Can economists tell us how much the State should spend on the Arts? Surely, they can help us with a host of other questions: should museums and galleries charge fees; should museums ever sell off parts of their collections; can the Arts economize on their expenditures; how can modern music be most effectively encouraged by public funds; are ticket prices an important element in the demand for the Arts; and does the low pay of artists discourage individuals from taking up artistic occupations?

C. Special Problems

10. Unsettled Questions in the Political Economy of the Arts

by L. ROBBINS
reprinted from The Three Banks Review September 1971 pp. 3-19

I

The export of an important Velasquez, the continual uncertainty regarding the destination of the even more important Titian, the imposition of entry charges to public museums and galleries and the fantastic anomaly of the tax system revealed by the fate of the Hart bequest to the National Gallery have all contrived to make discussion of the principles of state support for the arts a matter of urgent importance. This paper is an attempt to sort out some of the main issues.

II

Why should the taxpayer provide money for the arts? Why should not the whole business be left to consumer demand? If people want art they will buy it: if not, why should it be produced? It is not only the authors of the coarser contributions to the correspondence columns of the press who take this line. I have known quite sophisticated people with slightly doctrinaire inclinations who have thought themselves, or talked themselves, into attitudes of this sort.

Now clearly this is not a question which can be answered by reference to scientific economics. It is a question of ultimate values, a question of what you think to be the purpose and function of the state as the authoritarian element in society, a question of political philosophy. Economics comes in only when you want to know the implications of your decisions in this respect, implications as regards proportions, incentives and machinery.

On this plane therefore of political objectives, 1 personally have never had any difficulty in regarding some cultivation of the arts and higher learning as part of my conception of the state obligation. Most of us would admit the desirability of some assumption by authority of the educational function — though doubtless there is much room for argument as to what form this should take — and I would argue that if the purpose of education is to provide anything beyond the mere essentials of vocational competence — which I certainly think it is — then the provision of examples of the highest standards of cultural achievement in the visual arts, in music, in the theatre and, I would add, in the less remunerative section of pure scholarship, comes within that function.

But personally I would go beyond this and regard the provision of an accompaniment of enjoyment and amenity as part of the legitimate and psychologically desirable manifestations of state activity. Most of us, I fancy, would wish the apparatus of authority to be pleasing to the eye, both internally and externally, and for the opportunities of pleasure afforded by parks, galleries, libraries and the maintenance of the best practice in music and the theatre to be supported by state expenditure: and we feel a debt of gratitude to those who have held this view in the past and provided us with handsome buildings, agreeable open spaces, the great collections and a tradition of public theatres, opera houses and concert halls. A man can test his fundamental instincts in this respect if he imagines the contrary state of affairs — the state as the mere guarantor of law and order, operating in buildings providing only resistance to weather and the elementary requirements of hygiene — no parks, no public galleries, no nationally supported cultural activities beyond the bare minimum of vocational education. The tapestry of history would certainly have had a different appearance had such principles been prevalent; and my value judgment is that it would have been radically inferior.

To avoid misunderstanding, I ought perhaps to add that there is nothing in this conception of the requirements of state functions which would lend any support to the view that the provision of culture should be a state monopoly. To me, at least, nothing could be more antipathetic than the view that such matters should be controlled — as distinct from encouraged — by the state or by similar authorities. One need not look far afield to see the utter sterility which descends on creative — as distinct from executive — art when that is attempted. All that is implied is that, without in the least pretending to monopolise, the state should provide the resources necessary for the adequate maintenance of a sufficient volume of the various activities involved. And no sensible person will deny that this is a matter for argument and will vary from time to time and from place to place.

III

This brings us to the very hot contemporary question of charges. Should entry to state-subsidised cultural enterprises be subject to a charge or should it be free?

Let me say at once, as one who greatly regrets the Government s proposed departure from the custom of free entry to most of our national museums and collections, that I am afraid that a great deal of nonsense has been talked by the opponents of this policy. It is not true that the custom has been universal. The Tower of London charges. The Hampton Court Gallery charges. And it is not necessarily true that attendance is going to fall in any catastrophic manner by the imposition of charges — though the idea that it will not tend to fall at all seems to me equally implausible. I personally hope, with my fellow trustees of the National Gallery, that the categories of free entry will be extended — particularly for young people. But to pretend that the price of a few cigarettes or a pint of beer is going to cause severe hardship or deprivation to many classes of people is to treat the subject less seriously than it deserves.

For there are, indeed, very good arguments in favour of the continuance of free entry to permanent collections. The advocates of the policy of charging take too much credit to themselves if they think that all the reasonable presumptions are in favour of change. In my judgment, the balance goes the other way: the only technical argument they have adduced is invalid.

The crux of this argument lies in a comparison with the theatre and the opera house. If people are justly charged for admission to the Old Vic and Covent Garden, why should they not be charged for admission to the National Gallery and the British Museum? This is the thesis which was strongly urged by the Minister for the Arts when the matter was recently debated in Parliament. Indeed he seemed to think that it established a position of incontestable strength vis-à-vis his adversaries.

But this rests on a false analogy. It is true that both types of provision are state assisted. But, in the nature of things, in the one case there is a need to charge and in the other there is not — a need based on capacity in relation to the demand for it. If there were no prices charged for (most) performances of state-subsidised theatrical or operatic performances, there would be far more people applying for tickets than there was room for them in the house concerned — there would be mile-long queues from Covent Garden to the river. In such circumstances it seems more sensible to ration by price rather than by capacity to sleep out on the pavements so as to be at the head of the queue when the doors open. And this of course is the policy actually followed. Broadly speaking, the pricing of seats at publicly supported performances should be designed, not to secure maximum profit, but minimum unsatisfied demand at prices commensurate with a high use of capacity. That it does not always hit the mark — that for the most favoured performances there may develop a black market in tickets — is a matter of human fallibility.

But the position of the national museums and galleries is radically different. Where there is a danger of overcrowding at special temporary exhibitions, there has, indeed, never been any hesitation in charging an entrance fee.¹ But for the permanent collections, at present at any rate, the demand at a zero price is not of this order. There is no such overcrowding that grave discomfort is caused by free entrance. In this respect, I submit, the correct analogy is not with the publicly subsidised opera or theatre but rather with the parks and libraries, also publicly subsidised, where equally the use is not such as to involve serious overcrowding. I notice that libraries have been specifically exempted from the new order of things and I have never even heard of any project of installing turnstiles by the Serpentine or in Regent's Park. Yet libraries and parks involve just the same sort of running expenses. The onus of proof surely rests with those who argue that there is justification for charging for the use of one but not for the other.

Thus there is no question of principle compelling the application of charging to all types of cultural provision whatever the demand for them. The most that can be said for it is that it is a matter of financial expediency — of getting a little more for the arts than can be otherwise squeezed out of a reluctant Chancellor. And although it cannot be seriously contended that what is done in most galleries of continental Europe is utterly repugnant to decency and morals, I find it difficult to convince myself that our own tradition is not greatly superior. Once it has been decided in the interests of amenity or culture to provide a park or a gallery — admittedly a non-commercial enterprise — there seems no very convincing argument against making the amenities available to a larger rather than a smaller number of people, until the point at which increased use becomes gravely inimical to individual enjoyment. To impose a charge is likely to keep away just those members of the public in whom — in the interests of the educational and amenity function — it would be most desirable to kindle interest. And the amount that is likely to be yielded by the proposed, admittedly very moderate, scale of charges is so small in relation to all the trouble to administrators and annoyance to the public that will be caused by the change of ancient practice — the government must have already lost the support of many thousands of voters in this way — that it is difficult to believe that this is not an example of how, with the best will in the world, a somewhat half-baked doctrine can get the better of good sense.

IV

Keen as has been the discussion of the charges question, it would be to lose all sense of proportion to regard it as having anything like the significance for the future of culture in this country as the problem of the continued export of great masterpieces.

This problem can be stated quite simply. The stock of historic works of art in this country is being...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Half Title
• Title
• Copyright
• Contents
• Acknowledgements
• Preface: Recent Developments in the Economics of the Performing Arts
• Introduction: What is the Economics of the Arts About?
• A The Rationale for Public Subsidies to the Arts
• B Evaluating Public Expenditure on the Arts
• C Special Problems