In the early 2000s, so the story goes, British Petroleum was beginning to feel the pressure. Awareness of the existential problem posed by climate change was growing, and the public was rightly looking to fossil fuel companies as the cause. So they enlisted Ogily and Mather, one of the largest advertising firms in the world, to help them out of their jam.
A year later, BP unveiled the “Carbon Footprint Calculator.” With this invention, individuals could estimate their own impact on the environment. By doing so, they seeded the idea that climate change was really the responsibility of individuals, not oil companies or governments. If you want to solve it, just do your part. Eat less red meat, take fewer flights. And if the temperature continues to rise, the ice caps continue to melt, and wildfires continue to rage, well then, it’s just because you’re not trying hard enough.
In our field, we too often succumb to this same reductive way of thinking. We blame the systemic problems of our institutions on the choices of individuals: the venal artistic director, the obtuse board member, the craven managing director, the racist old donors, the cutthroat agent, etc.
Sure, there are plenty of toxic and abusive individuals in our field, and they should be dealt with appropriately, but the problem with putting so much power in the hands of individuals is that it invites the opposite. If the problems of a theater can be placed on the failings of the previous leadership, then we expect new leadership to be able to come in and instantly solve them. And when new leaders come in and we see those institutions flounder, we blame the new leaders. It was their poor programming choices, their antagonistic relationship with donors, their too-rapid pace of change, etc. The cycle continues. In some cases, of course, some of those things are true. But in the aggregate, it’s usually the system, rarely the people.
We live in a society with deeply entrenched racism and inequity. We have a truly bonkers healthcare system in which people’s ability to have insurance relies on their employment, leaving our freelance artists on the constant brink of disaster. Robust arts education is largely gone from schools, so people grow up without being exposed to theater. We have virtually no federal government funding for the arts. We have spent 70 years building a system of non-profit theater that can only exist with the support of a small number of very wealthy individuals and corporations. It’s all of these things. But, like climate change, these are big, hard problems. Problems that can make us feel helpless, like we can’t possibly make an impact. And we are desperate for a way to make a difference.
So the great calls for change are heard by leaders in a defensive crouch who do the only thing they can. They do away with their exploitative apprentice programs, and their reliance on armies of interns. Small theater companies close up shop, unable to pay a real wage nor continue relying on cheap labor. And in the place of these things, we find…nothing. Gestures. Vague talk of better, more equitable systems. But what we actually find is a field with far fewer points of entry. A tiny handful of paid fellowships. Of course, the majority of people who will continue to find ways into the field are the ones who always have: those with means who can self-produce, work for free, or already have a bevy of personal relationships in the industry. When we wipe away the deeply flawed points of entry without replacing them, are we actually making systemic change, or are we just burnishing our carbon footprint? “I took a five hour train ride instead of a one hour plane ride, so I’m making a difference.”
So what does help? We know the answer. What helps is government money. Both in direct support and investment in arts education and enrichment. As we look at the announcements for the 2023-2024 theater season, it’s clear they are by and large more timid than the previous year. Off Broadway this has largely meant theaters doing shorter seasons with fewer shows. Regionally this has manifested as far “safer” choices and recognizable titles. And why? Because the previous season was programmed at a time when theaters were still riding the wave of SVOG money. Massive government support emboldened theaters to take more risks, support new and diverse voices, to raise pay,etc. It took a lethal pandemic to reveal to our generation what serious government funding of theater could look like. It’s a total game-changer. But now the money’s gone, and audiences aren’t coming back to pre-pandemic levels yet (if ever), theaters are hanging on for dear life. I don’t begrudge them for their programming choices. They’re just trying to stay alive.Of course, more federal funding isn’t going to solve systemic racism. It’s not going to solve the fact that the decades-long expansion of BFA and MFA programs churns out far more theater makers than there are paying opportunities to make theater, and it’s not going to solve the (understandable) ongoing reticence of many people to gather together in close quarters while Covid still rampages.But the fact remains that probably 75% of our problems would be improved with serious government funding for the arts. So the question to ask ourselves is: are we directing 75% of our activist energy and time towards this? How much of our energy is spent on microscopic fights for justice within our organizations? On calling out marginally problematic programs or individuals? On taking a small stand, wherever we can, every time we can? And then when we discover that a year or two later, all the same systemic problems remain, we grow frustrated and angry and despairing “I’ve been trying so hard. All these promises were made. Why isn’t anything changing?”We do our own version of “think global, act local” because we want to make a difference, and here are places where we can really feel ourselves making an impact. And it sure feels good. Just like when we lower our carbon footprint.
Author's Bio: The writer is a playwright who, like you, baked a lot of bread early in the pandemic, and feels like they should get back to doing that.
