How to fix the funding issue

Whether museums or galleries sink or swim will be down to how effectively they market themselves.

Kiss goodbye to culture and tread carefully through the rubble of Britain's great art institutions. According to Nicholas Serota, writing in yesterday's Guardian, this country is about to experience the greatest crisis in arts and heritage since 1940.

While stakeholders from across the cultural sector were busy painting the bleak landscape that a potential 30 per cent cut to the culture budget will create, others spent the day discussing dynamic ways out of the funding black hole.

At a closed seminar day held at London's Institute for Contemporary Arts (ICA), the digital marketing strategists Blue State Digital and Cogapp gathered marketing heads of many of the UK's leading museums and galleries to discuss the potential of raising money through online marketing campaigns.

Rich Mintz, vice-president of strategy at Blue State, designed the online framework for Barack Obama's presidential campaign, and is the latest consultant to offer UK organisations US-style advice.

He believes that arts organisations and political parties can apply similar fundraising tactics thanks to the emotional hold they have over their supporters.

"People are drawn to an arts organisation because they're emotionally fired up by them, just like the cause of a political party. The success of online fundraising is based on locating these emotional ties that are at the heart of the institution's interaction with the public.

"These institutions know there's an untapped group of people who they can engage with online. This is about reaching out to supporters who they're not in touch with. The organisation's job is to appear humanised so people will find it easy to hand over their email address and take the first step."

Philanthropy

But when this reporter bumped into jolly marketing men from the Tate and the British Museum as they left the conference, neither organisation would divulge whether it is going to employ such mechanisms.

Soon, however, there might not be a choice. The Culture Secretary, Jeremy Hunt, told the New Statesman: "Arts organisations will have to become independent entrepreneurial fundraising bodies. They must have both the ability and responsibility to raise money for capital projects and also for endowments to give them funding security over the long term."

As it stands, UK arts organisations aren't reliant on one source of funding. Alan Davey, chief executive of Arts Council England, told the New Statesman, "In factm for every £1 of public money invested, a further £2 is leveraged in from elsewhere, from box office, private income, philanthropy and endowments. Public money, distributed via an arm's-length organisation, mixes with money from other sources to allow artists free expression and to create great art."

But, as the Conservative Party paves the way for a US-style financial regime -- in which the Tate and the British Museum will have to secure money from wealthy philanthropists -- Davey warns, "It is essential that philanthropy is not a substitute for public funding. Public investment creates confidence in other funders and allows arts organisations to continue making the inspiring, exciting art that they're great at.

"When private money is hard to get, as it is now, providing that public investment stays strong, the art can continue."

With this in mind, it's no wonder Serota worries that cuts announced on 20 October "will threaten the whole ecosystem" of culture in Britain.

Survival of the marketing fittest

It's hard to ignore Blue State's success during the Obama campaign -- mobilising three million individual donors to make a total of 6.5 million donations online, adding up to over $500m in online donations.

But, as UK arts institutions fight for private funding and individual contributions, their ability to stay afloat might come to depend on the effectiveness of their own marketing campaigns.

And if they experience any of Blue State's previous success, money won't be the worry. What is at stake here is the quality of the institutions that seek survival in the first place.

If a donor's allegiance was once based on the calibre of a gallery's curators, his support might now be dictated by the strength of that gallery's marketing managers.

Warning: don't be alarmed to find Barbara Hepworth sculptures atop the latest media platform instead of their usual pedestals next time you're at the Tate.

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In your 30s? You missed out on £26,000 and you're not even protesting

The 1980s kids seem resigned to their fate - for now. 

Imagine you’re in your thirties, and you’re renting in a shared house, on roughly the same pay you earned five years ago. Now imagine you have a friend, also in their thirties. This friend owns their own home, gets pay rises every year and has a more generous pension to beat. In fact, they are twice as rich as you. 

When you try to talk about how worried you are about your financial situation, the friend shrugs and says: “I was in that situation too.”

Un-friend, right? But this is, in fact, reality. A study from the Institute for Fiscal Studies found that Brits in their early thirties have a median wealth of £27,000. But ten years ago, a thirty something had £53,000. In other words, that unbearable friend is just someone exactly the same as you, who is now in their forties. 

Not only do Brits born in the early 1980s have half the wealth they would have had if they were born in the 1970s, but they are the first generation to be in this position since World War II.  According to the IFS study, each cohort has got progressively richer. But then, just as the 1980s kids were reaching adulthood, a couple of things happened at once.

House prices raced ahead of wages. Employers made pensions less generous. And, at the crucial point that the 1980s kids were finding their feet in the jobs market, the recession struck. The 1980s kids didn’t manage to buy homes in time to take advantage of low mortgage rates. Instead, they are stuck paying increasing amounts of rent. 

If the wealth distribution between someone in their 30s and someone in their 40s is stark, this is only the starting point in intergenerational inequality. The IFS expects pensioners’ incomes to race ahead of workers in the coming decade. 

So why, given this unprecedented reversal in fortunes, are Brits in their early thirties not marching in the streets? Why are they not burning tyres outside the Treasury while shouting: “Give us out £26k back?” 

The obvious fact that no one is going to be protesting their granny’s good fortune aside, it seems one reason for the 1980s kids’ resignation is they are still in denial. One thirty something wrote to The Staggers that the idea of being able to buy a house had become too abstract to worry about. Instead:

“You just try and get through this month and then worry about next month, which is probably self-defeating, but I think it's quite tough to get in the mindset that you're going to put something by so maybe in 10 years you can buy a shoebox a two-hour train ride from where you actually want to be.”

Another reflected that “people keep saying ‘something will turn up’”.

The Staggers turned to our resident thirty something, Yo Zushi, for his thoughts. He agreed with the IFS analysis that the recession mattered:

"We were spoiled by an artificially inflated balloon of cheap credit and growing up was something you did… later. Then the crash came in 2007-2008, and it became something we couldn’t afford to do. 

I would have got round to becoming comfortably off, I tell myself, had I been given another ten years of amoral capitalist boom to do so. Many of those who were born in the early 1970s drifted along, took a nap and woke up in possession of a house, all mod cons and a decent-paying job. But we slightly younger Gen X-ers followed in their slipstream and somehow fell off the edge. Oh well. "

Will the inertia of the1980s kids last? Perhaps – but Zushi sees in the support for Jeremy Corbyn, a swell of feeling at last. “Our lack of access to the life we were promised in our teens has woken many of us up to why things suck. That’s a good thing. 

“And now we have Corbyn to help sort it all out. That’s not meant sarcastically – I really think he’ll do it.”