Do “the creative industries” really matter for city economies?

That bloody elephant in Nantes again. Image: Getty.

Creative industries have long held a special place in economic development. But recent discussions that I’ve been party to in relation to the industrial strategy have underlined to me how confused the thinking on the creative industries is. Here are three areas where this is particularly apparent.

The definition of the creative industries itself is a source of confusion. According to DCMS, it is a combination of nine different industries ranging from architecture to fashion design, and including crafts, libraries and museums in between. This creates confusion on two counts.

The first is the mixing of highly productive industries like computer programming with much less productive activities like artistic performance. One sells to international markets, while the other is much more likely to rely on public subsidy to make ends meet. For a policymaker concerned about increasing productivity, one is much more relevant than the other.

The second is the mixing of industries (e.g. architecture, computer programming) with employment in cultural amenities, such as museums. By grouping cultural amenities in with businesses, we very quickly get into boosterist language about the supposed economic impact of such institutions in order to justify their grouping with the industries.

This is positively encouraged by the government, which requests that bids for things like City of Culture status set out the economic impact they will have. So in order to get funding, bidding bodies need to play the game. The result? We get grand proclamations on the economic impact of a City of Culture programme, no doubt sourced from the pages of a report written by a handsomely-paid consultant (the same is true of lower productivity industries in the definition too).

But this sadly distorts objectives and unfairly expects cultural institutions or activities to do something that they just aren’t able to deliver. Investment in a library is not done for any direct economic benefit, while investment in a museum should not be expected to bring about culture-led regeneration. Yet all these things are all too regularly confused, with April’s House of Lords report on seaside towns being the latest example.


Crucially, playing on these terms means that this is an argument that advocates of culture, in particular, are likely to lose. There’s no way we should expect libraries, crafts or museums to be making a direct contribution to improving the UK’s productivity. The data shows that not only do these activities have below average productivity, it’s actually lower today than in 1990 (as we should expect). And yet strangely exactly these arguments are being made about activities that are simultaneously reliant on public sector subsidy to make ends meet.

Losing this argument is a shame because cultural investment is important – it is likely to have impacts on things like civic pride and it exposes people to new ideas and experiences, for example. These are worthy aims that all policymakers should be attempting to achieve. But we should be clear about the reasons that we are making such investment, and be reasonable regarding the impacts we expect it to achieve. In terms of the industrial strategy, increasing productivity is not one of them.

A final source of confusion is the conflation of creative industries and creativity.

In response to the critiques above, the conversation usually then segues into the importance of creativity in the economy. This is exactly right. Creativity and new ideas are what drive innovation, which in turn drives long-run productivity growth. And policy should look to support this.

But let’s be clear. Despite being similar in name, the creative industries have no exclusivity over creativity. And it is not clear that supporting these specific industries through a sector deal, for example, improves the creative capacity of a local or national economy. Instead, improving education across the country would seem like a much more direct way to do so.

I don’t say this to be unkind or because I have any particular issue with the creative industries; although I’m sure there are many that will take umbrage with the above. I instead say this in the hope that we can bring clarity to what it is that we’re trying to achieve with different policy interventions – be that productivity, cultural engagement or civic pride. Because if we don’t have this clarity of thought, we’re all just going to end up disappointed when our expectations don’t get met.

You can hear more on this topic on our latest podcast.

Paul Swinney is head of policy & research at the Centre for Cities, on whose blog this article first appeared.

 
 
 
 

There isn’t a war on the motorist. We should start one

These bloody people. Image: Getty.

When should you use the horn on a car? It’s not, and anyone who has been on a road in the UK in living memory will be surprised to hear this, when you are inconvenienced by traffic flow. Nor is it when you are annoyed that you have been very slightly inconvenienced by another driver refusing to break the law in a manner that is objectively dangerous, but which you perceive to be to your advantage.

According to the Highway Code:

“A horn should only be used when warning someone of any danger due to another vehicle or any other kind of danger.”

Let’s be frank: neither you nor I nor anyone we have ever met has ever heard a horn used in such a manner. Even those of us who live in or near places where horns perpetually ring out due to the entitled sociopathy of most drivers. Especially those of us who live in or near such places.

Several roads I frequently find myself pushing a pram up and down in north London are two way traffic, but allow parking on both sides. This being London that means that, in practice, they’re single track road which cars can enter from both ends.

And this being London that means, in practice, that on multiple occasions every day, men – it is literally always men – glower at each other from behind the steering wheels of needlessly big cars, banging their horns in fury that circumstances have, usually through the fault of neither of them, meant they are facing each other on a de facto single track road and now one of them is going to have to reverse for a metre or so.

This, of course, is an unacceptable surrender as far as the drivers’ ego is concerned, and a stalemate seemingly as protracted as the cold war and certainly nosier usually emerges. Occasionally someone will climb out of their beloved vehicle and shout and their opponent in person, which at least has the advantages of being quieter.

I mentioned all this to a friend recently, who suggested that maybe use of car horns should be formally restricted in certain circumstances.

Ha ha ha. Hah.

The Highway Code goes on to say -

“It is illegal to use a horn on a moving vehicle on a restricted road, a road that has street lights and a 30 mph limit, between the times of 11:30 p.m. and 07:00 a.m.”

Is there any UK legal provision more absolutely and comprehensively ignored by those to whom it applies? It might as well not be there. And you can bet that every single person who flouts it considers themselves law abiding. Rather than the perpetual criminal that they in point of fact are.


In the 25 years since I learned to drive I have used a car horn exactly no times, despite having lived in London for more than 20 of them. This is because I have never had occasion to use it appropriately. Neither has anyone else, of course, they’ve just used it inappropriately. Repeatedly.

So here’s my proposal for massively improving all UK  suburban and urban environments at a stroke: ban horns in all new cars and introduce massive, punitive, crippling, life-destroying fines for people caught using them on their old one.

There has never been a war on motorists, despite the persecution fantasies of the kind of middle aged man who thinks owning a book by Jeremy Clarkson is a substitute for a personality. There should be. Let’s start one. Now.

Phase 2 will be mandatory life sentences for people who don’t understand that a green traffic light doesn’t automatically mean you have right of way just because you’re in a car.

Do write in with your suggestions for Phase 3.