The British parliamentary elections held on 4 July were characterised by cynicism and anger, reflecting a loss of confidence in democracy itself as a system for improving people’s lives. Since the bank failures of 2007, people have experienced a series of crises that have made them poorer and more insecure, while the public services that should protect them at such times are starved of resources. Moderate politicians struggle to respond within an unjust, unequal economic ideology, while extremists exploit the anarchy of social media to peddle mistrust and lies. In these elections, as in others, governing parties have been punished but without much confidence in the alternatives. Britain’s archaic electoral system has produced a parliament where a party with 34% of the vote now has 63% of the seats. The new government is powerful in the chamber but weak in the country because there is so little trust that it has the capacity, or perhaps the intention, to improve people’s lives.
It’s an unhappy picture for someone who believes in democracy—not as an ideal but as the least dangerous, least oppressive form of government. At least the new Prime Minister understands that regaining trust in his government and in the system that brought it to power is essential to sustainable positive change. The alternative, which the French face in their own parliamentary elections today, is a slide towards division, authoritarianism and worse.
But in such frightening times, it is also vital to recognise—and defend—what still works.
On Friday, in a matter of hours, the UK experienced a dignified and peaceful transfer of power. It is only the fourth time that has happened in my adult life: in 1979, 1997, 2010 and today. The rituals involved—concession speeches, interviews with the king, photographs at the door of 10 Downing Street—make it look simple, but it involves a profound transformation of every aspect of life in Britain as a new political culture begins to shape not only what is done but how. The signs are good that the deliberately divisive language of the outgoing party will be replaced by a more respectful discourse that values consensus and accepts compromise. We shall see.
You might wonder what all this have to do with community art and co-creation. It matters because but cultural democracy—the right of all people to discover, enjoy, create, share and protect culture, in the words of the 2020 Rome Charter—is the foundation and goal of all community art. The quality of democracy is central to that, not only in elections but in the everyday freedoms of individuals and civil society organisations to work towards their own idea of a good life. A change of government is a reset on a much wider and deeper level, an opportunity for all citizens to invest themselves in the common good, as they see it.
In every aspect of life, a new government opens the door to changing established stories—the way we think and speak about what we do. In 1997, the Labour government changed the story of British culture when it renamed the Department of National Heritage the Department of Culture, Media and Sport. It transformed investment in creative education, free museum admissions, library services, the Arts Council, the creative industries and local government cultural services. And it recognised the value of community art and cultural participation for the first time in cultural policy. Not all it did was good, well-informed or sustained, but it nonetheless transformed the work of thousands of cultural organisations and access to culture for millions of people.
In contrast, the past 14 years of Conservative government have been a waste for arts and culture, as in so much else—a period of disarray and stagnation, marked by cutbacks and frequent, ill-conceived policy changes. There were 13 Secretaries of State for Culture between 2010 and 2024, none of whom achieved anything consequential. If it is even meaningful to speak of a government story about culture, it is one of decline and confusion. Conservative cultural policy was like a scarecrow with incoherent tatters of populist motley draped over a frame built by the previous government.
But there is no one left to tell that tired story and the new government has not yet created its own. For a little while, there is a chance for people who know and care about culture to help shape new ideas about its place in our lives and how it might be helped to flourish for the benefit of all. Ministers and their advisors will have their own ideas, of course, but they don’t yet have a record to defend. Nor do they have the depth of knowledge and experience of those whose lives are spent in the field. They will never be as open to external ideas as they are now.
The story of participation, community art and co-creation must be rethought and renewed. If this work is to thrive once again at the heart of cultural life, we need to be able to explain clearly, convincingly why it matters and how it is best supported. Now is the time to have that conversation.
The photo at the top of this post is from the filming of A Dead Good Life, a Lawnmowers project I worked on between 2018 and 2020.
François Matarasso 
