Tories don’t like the arts, and the left think that the entire budget should be spent on free music lessons and art therapy. Everyone knows that, right? After all, isn’t that what the perennial debate about arts funding boils down to: an eternal question that has more to do with opposing ideologies enjoying the opportunity to argue than any pressing or indeed resolvable concern?  Laughable, yes, but this glib dismissal of the debate about arts funding is all too pervasive, as well as complacent and short-sighted: it is undeniable that in recent years our current government has launched a sustained dismantling of the arts in society. Over each of the next three years there will be a reduction of £23,000 in local authority funding for the arts, followed by a complete withdrawal of support in 2016-17, a well thought out and cohesive attack that concentrates on the easiest point of attack: the low-profile local theatres, dance classes, art galleries and creative community projects, the very ones that are the most important in inspiring a love of the arts in those who may not otherwise get the chance to experience them.

Cuts have to be made in a recession, but such a drastic and targeted reduction in funding can only be ideologically, rather than financially, motivated. The government appear to be scared by the arts, and embarrassed by them: they cannot quantify their value, or harness it for financial gain, or power, and their results are often emotional, and stimulating, and messy. The first indication proper of their desire to hurriedly sweep glorious cultural chaos under the carpet came with the publication of the Brown Review of Higher Education Funding in 2010, which has subsequently manifested itself as the beginning of a quiet vendetta against the study of arts subjects at university level. The increase in tuition fees moves the focus of higher education from the education itself to the commercial viability of a degree: if you’re going to be paying that much money – and it really is a staggering amount- and saddling your future self with that much debt, the pressure to read something more ostensibly ‘employable’ increases exponentially. When you’re facing the prospect of graduating in a recession, with over £40,000 worth of debt – the average graduate under the new fee system will be in proud possession of a debt of around £43,500- it eases the fear somewhat to be a desirable Economics graduate rather than emerge clutching a History of Art degree, and it would take a brave eighteen year-old to ignore the figures about graduate employment of arts students, regardless of their passion for their subject. This encouragement of making decisions about further education based around the primary motivational factor of what is essentially commercial viability creates a lack of respect for creative disciplines and the arts in general: the commodification of education is narrowing the space in the curriculum for liberal arts and for certain Humanities subjects, something that bodes ill for the future balance of the graduate pool.

On a wider level, the more general governmental cuts to the arts also feed into this vicious circle that appears to be conspiring to make everything a little bit harder, a little colder, a little more cash-focussed: the worries about the graduate employment prospects of arts students are compounded by the large scale local authority cuts which are reducing the avenues into employment in the creative industries.  The appointment of Maria Miller as Secretary of State for Culture, Media and Sport in September 2012 further illustrates the death wish the coalition appears to be harbouring towards the arts, and would be completely laughable if it weren’t so heart-breaking. As well as having thoroughly questionable views on equality -Miller has voted in favour of defining homophobia and racial hatred as ‘freedom of speech’ and against the gay adoption rights, against the Human Fertilisation and Embryology Bill, against the progress of the Racial and Religious Hatred Bill- Miller has caused consternation in the arts world by her total avoidance of meeting any of the key figures involved in our cultural institutions, prompting vocal concern from the likes of Danny Boyle, the Director of the National Theatre, Nicholas Hytner and the Guardian’s Charlotte Higgins, amongst numerous others. Miller appears to have little interest in gathering the opinions of those most qualified to provide her with advice about the way to ensure cuts can be made in the most sustainable way possible, preferring instead to distance herself entirely from those her policy will be directly affecting.

Hytner has also pointed out that it won’t be institutions like the National Theatre, or the Royal Opera House, or the National Portrait Gallery that suffer from the cuts: these institutions are fortunate enough to have the reputation and contacts base that enables them to draw on private sources for funding, and are too established to face any serious direct threat. Instead, it is the regional theatres, art galleries, dance studios and community centres that will suffer, particularly those outside of London. Between 1979 and 1992 25% of regional theatres closed down due to funding cuts, and the removal of regional artistic opportunities affects the national institutions too: if people are deprived of the chance to discover what kind of art form they enjoy, whether as spectators or creators, they may never get the impetus or the opportunity to explore their new passion further. The National Theatre and many, many other renowned institutions offer fantastic ticket deals, meaning that a night at the theatre can actually turn out to be cheaper than a cinema ticket from a multiplex chain, but the extension of the appeal of the arts has to initially begin at a grassroots level. There’s little point in having deals that attempt to increase the accessibility of theatre if the very people who would perhaps benefit from them the most- those who are first-time theatre-goers, perhaps, or who are unsure if the particular production or art form is one they will necessarily enjoy- have had no opportunity to have their interest piqued in the first place, closer to home.

It is futile to compare the arts’ need for funding to that of the NHS, say, or the education system: obviously there are certain fundamental services that should always take priority, although that hasn’t prevented both the health and education systems being disassembled like a tired Kinex model by a spoilt child. The two are entirely separate areas, and should be treated as such. Obviously in the current financial climate we cannot afford or justify an increase in arts funding, but then nobody is asking for that: there simply needs to be a recognition that the arts occupy an important place in society, and that therefore there should always be support specifically allocated to them, as there is for military spending, or housing. The almost unanimous acclaim that met the opening ceremony of the London 2012 Olympic Games is a mark of how thriving and fantastic our artistic culture is in Britain, and also of the life-affirming properties possessed by the creative. In a climate that is increasingly filled with anxiety and gloom, financial misery and a thousand miniscule everyday heartbreaks that contribute to a collective mind-set that echoes our perpetual British drizzle, it is more important now than ever that people are not deprived of the opportunity to express themselves, or be entertained, or to entertain others. The brilliant 2002 documentary Feltham Sings, the YDance project in Glasgow’s East End and quite literally thousands of other schemes and programmes across the country have proven and continue to prove that artistic opportunities can offer a real change to every aspect of society, and this is what we should be focussing on when we think in the terms of value for money: there are many different types of worth, and quality of life should always be a primary concern. The arts are impossible to categorise neatly, and their value is not one that can be worked out mathematically, but engagement with them – whether it’s a child given the resources to make terrible collages out of pasta and glitter, or an amateur orchestra given the space to practise or a Chekhov double-bill at a professional theatre, or one single poem- is important and powerful, and something that we should continue to support financially and ideologically no matter how dire the financial situation.