How lessons from the New World reflect on our current state

With wide-eyed curiosity I trod through this French Canadian town, two lines from Virginia Woolf sprang to my mind: ‘As if under cover of this excuse we could indulge safely in the greatest pleasure of town life in summer - rambling the streets of London (Montreal)’, and, ‘It is always an adventure to enter a new room’.

This new room that I’ve entered: the circular auditorium of La TOHU, where Marché International de Cirque Contemporain (MICC) is held. Under its roof, where the ceiling seems to stretch into infinity, the contemporary circus sector finds itself once again at a curious intersection of artistic ambition and political pragmatism in an international gathering of such scale. When leafing through its programme, I cannot help but wonder how regional governments are reshaping the contemporary circus landscape through strategic cultural investment. As a matter of fact, internationalisation stands as one of Circuscentrum's decretal tasks under public perception and promotion, which extends both within Flanders and internationally, with Focus Canada being one of the strands within.

Regional Investment and Cultural Soft Power

Seated in La TOHU, witnessing dedicated programmes presented by the Catalonian and Flemish governments, I glimpse into how regional territories like Flanders, Catalonia, and Quebec—each with complex relationships with their respective nation-states—strategically deploy cultural investment as a nuanced form of soft power projection. These regions share recent histories of autonomy-inspired mobilisations and ongoing tensions with their central governments, making targeted cultural spending and alliances performative forms of political actions. Here, it's worth distinguishing between the nation-state as a political entity and what 'the state' is as the conditions and structures within which we find ourselves in. Regional cultural investment operates within this latter understanding, as a renegotiation of the very conditions of cultural production, recognition, and belonging. International events such as MICC serve as the perfect grounds on which regions can actively constitute alternative frameworks for cultural legitimacy and artistic value. Coming from the UK, I am well-versed in Anglo-American marketing approaches - the inevitable byproduct of liberal economies. But it was genuinely fascinating to see three regions showcase themselves at this international market of cultural products and artistic productions, each playing their part with the same goal: promote one’s region.

The presentations and discussions’ subject matters reveal the priorities and cultural preoccupations of the regional contexts. We saw that the opening discussion presented by the Government of Catalonia offered to address the living legacy of circus. The panel attempted to explore the heritage of circus as a living cultural tradition. While I could not fully grasp their proposed differences between ‘heritage’ and ‘legacy’ possibly due to linguistic barrier (and not-yet-accurrate real time AI translation), what was clear was that it was in their utmost interest to preserve their heritage for collective self-understanding and projection into the future. It is understandably an embodied matter, as I held my breath during their cocktail reception watching Les Castellers de la Vila de Gràcia’s human towers rose over the crowd, steady with precision, protective arms reaching upwards as the little ones scrambled over their elders with nimble confidence. When they reached five or six bodies high, the moment felt incredibly moving: it was a catharsis of relief that they reached up safely and the pride of witnessing human triumph of trust and community, built one person at a time. A collaborative effort that strengthens community and continues a historic practice. The merriment was accompanied with fresh food and drinks sponsored by the Government of Catalonia, and such sumptuousness was followed the next day by a networking reception from La, and the day after by the Flemish Government.

This leads us to see that when governments across Europe and North America grapple with competing budget priorities, the performing arts—and circus in particular in our case—have become unlikely beneficiaries of a new form of cultural diplomacy. This dynamic raises provocative suggestions about circus's political potential. One dimension is that circus is a new front for regions to invent and reshape their identities. This also reflects the distribution of powers within the state, under which regional governments may conduct external action in matters within their jurisdiction, including diplomatic relations and cultural collaborations with foreign counterparts independently of the central or federal level. When Flanders, Catalonia, and Quebec invest strategically in circus, they are not simply promoting an art form; they are constituting alternative frameworks of cultural authority that challenge the hegemonic conditions set by their respective nation-states. This way of asserting cultural distinctiveness requires consistent and instrumental support by the regional governments, where circus turns out to be the serendipitous winner. Yet this windfall comes with strings attached, revealing deep structural inequities that money alone cannot remedy. We will look into this further into the article. The other dimension is that if art genuinely possesses transformative power, can circus influence political discourse or have real political sway beyond the social realm? The evidence suggests modest impact. While circus may offer inclusive programming for underprivileged communities or underserved populations, its capacity to drive systemic political change remains under-observed.

What interests me is that the political nature of circus funding becomes apparent when examining how regional governments make funding decisions. Since funding allocation involves human judgement and resource distribution, it is inherently political - shaped by competing priorities and policy goals. Would circus emerge as a strategic vehicle for soft power and non-coercive influence, going beyond what is usually perceived as purely artistic expression, an entertainment product or social outreach? The Flemish delegation’s trip to MICC could serve as an occasion for Circuscentrum to transform external observation into internal monitoring for its future internationalisation efforts, not only by benchmarking their current practices against global standards, but also to understand diverse cultural approaches to circus in the Western world.

The Flemish Case for When Circus has its own Policy

So what state are we in? Not merely the Belgian nation-state as a political entity, but 'the state' as the conditions and structures within which cultural production becomes possible or constrained. Belgium's Flemish region offers a compelling case study in how circus gains its own set of policies that promote the form. The Flemish government's systematic approach—first establishing robust institutional support, then allowing market or various other forces to determine distribution—has created what I observe as a "trickle-down" cultural economy. This model stands in stark contrast to the funding drought experienced elsewhere, particularly in Anglophone countries where recent legislative developments have threatened to eliminate arts funding entirely. When an audience member shared during the panel discussion of Worlds in Motion the news of US legislation proposing zero federal arts funding, the assembled professionals confronted an uncomfortable reality: while some regions debate distribution mechanisms, others fight for existence. The symbolic weight of this divergence in treatment towards cultural sectors by their respective governments cannot be overstated. In countries and regions where arts funding diminish however gradually or dramatically, the state actively withdraws the conditions necessary for artistic labour to exist as a viable practice. In contrast, regions like Flanders construct elaborate infrastructures that position cultural production as integral to regional identity and civic life. While some artists in the auditorium create within systems that treat culture as infrastructure—essential, worthy of long-term investment, others work in contexts where each grant cycle might be their last, where the legitimacy of artistic labour itself remains perpetually in question. This divergence shapes not only what art gets made, but who can imagine themselves as artists and which communities see their experiences reflected in public culture.

For the MICC participants whose circus sectors are just beginning to develop in their countries as well as the Anglosphere, the budget presentation by the Flemish delegation was eye-watering. However, Flanders' apparent privilege viewed from the outside masks deeper structural tensions. Beyond the concern of culture’s administrative repositioning within broader budget categories, the sector faces internal challenges that illuminate funding mechanisms’ complex relationship with artistic equity. Recent appeals from established sector voices for additional structural funding exemplify these challenges. The sum, while modest within domestic bureaucratic expenditures, represents an astonishing figure within the global arts funding outlook. More significantly, the petition originated from established sector voices for their work to be continued and to expand, while smaller companies and marginalised artists remained yet to be seen from this advocacy effort. This pattern brings us to a critical question: can increased funding in the absolute sense genuinely democratise artistic access for both large and small stakeholders? This concern sits at the heart of questions around practical support, which aims to promote expertise and spur relevant social and sector-specific evolutions. Would propping up the big players eventually trickle their benefits down to the rest of the sector?

Anne-Marie Vaillancourt from DynamO Théâtre, whom I met during a lunch encounter, expressed that the Flemish presentation bore a striking resemblance to the cultural field in Quebec in the 1990s: the creation of the Quebec Council for the Arts, early stages of structuring, collaboration over competition and a sense that ‘everyone helps each other’. She also admitted that while the spirit lingers, reality has evolved as the system became more organised—or professionalised—with professionalisation being a key focus area that Circuscentrum addresses through its decretal task of practical support and the sustainable development of a professional sector.

Anne-Marie’s experience corroborates a common pattern I observe across maturing cultural landscapes. When sectors possess limited resources, peer support and grassroots innovative solutions tend to flourish in unexpected ways. Artists collaborate from necessity, creating horizontal networks that prioritise collective advancement over individual gain: a sense of surviving together. However, as systems professionalise and funding increases, these collaborative structures frequently give way to competitive individualism. This transformation appears closely linked to the funding environment: higher funding levels tend to coincide with higher stakes, which corresponds with artists investing in professional grant writers, business managers and sophisticated application processes. The resulting "dossier wars" tend to favour those with access to cultural capital—education, connections, language and presentation skills. While every artist reasonably considers their work important, this dynamic systematically gives advantages to established players over emerging or marginalised voices. Whether it is domestic or international, perhaps the critical question becomes not whether more funding democratises access, but whether existing resources reach those most requiring support. The petition that sought extra lump sum to fund specific stakeholders in Flanders, regardless of its ultimate merit, raises substantial questions about sectoral responsibility. If organisations receive considerable public investment, what obligations do they bear toward less privileged colleagues? How can privilege translate into broader sector advancement rather than individual company consolidation and expansion?

Once again, the political economy of circus reveals itself most clearly in resource allocation mechanisms. In Flanders' close-knit cultural community—where commissioners, programmers, and artists interact within overlapping social networks—creates what economists might recognise as market inefficiencies that may appear to be meritocratic at first glance. The absence of transparent widespread open-call procedures transforms funding or residency decisions into exercises in social capital accumulation, where networking ability is rewarded over artistic merit. This phenomenon extends beyond individual career outcomes to shape entire artistic communities. Without systematic equality monitoring, such as the UK's equality and diversity monitoring—which serves as a rigorous, albeit laborious, oversight mechanism required for the public sector—resources repeatedly flow to established players who have the time and resources to network, creating nearly impenetrable barriers for entrants with less social capital. The coincidental result is that resources circulate among mostly known players. One of the notable stumbling blocks of the Flemish circus sector may not solely be the proportionally limited funding for a growing field, but rather how the existing resources are being distributed through mechanisms that require updating. One thing I have to point out is that the French exception proves particularly instructive. Despite—or perhaps because of—French culture's historical hegemonic position within Belgian politics and specifically contemporary circus, francophone artists navigate these networks with advantages that highlight the intersection of cultural and linguistic capital. Such an observation is even more pronounced with French citizens in Quebec. This dynamic reflects broader patterns of privilege that transcend artistic merit, suggesting that cultural policy cannot be divorced from historical power relations.

Beyond Simple Economics

In a conversation with Paul Hegge, General Representative Delegation of Flanders to the USA who gracefully joined our expedition to Montreal, we discussed a common misconception prevalent in cultural policy advocacy. Our conversation encapsulated the discourse around cultural value. He offered a familiar formulation where "six performers entertain 300 audience members" – the kind of convivial interaction that circulates readily in diplomatic and policy contexts. While mathematically appealing, I countered that this framing risks oversimplifying the cultural value proposition. Such justification typically misses crucial variables: ticket pricing that limits accessibility, content quality, and the demographic composition of audiences who can afford premium cultural experiences. The performance we attended at L'Espace St-Denis cost around CAD $50 (but we were given complimentary tickets as part of the delegation). It was adequate entertainment and the audience were the regular cabaret goers if one can imagine. Yet this moment reveals something more complex than simple economic reductionism. Those who advocate for culture in governmental and diplomatic spaces – like Paul himself – often find themselves caught between two languages: the language of art and culture’s transformative, immeasurable impact, and the language of policy which demands quantifiable returns as well as diplomatic revelry. Is there a need, then, to move away from this reductionist approach to cultural economics that mirrors broader policy discussions treating arts funding as a simple cost-benefit calculation? The answer is complicated. Another example I can share is when inclusivity and social justice become selling points rather than embedded practices, cultural work risks commodification that undermines its transformative potential. This tension reflects broader debates about art's instrumentalisation within policy frameworks that demand measurable outcomes from inherently intangible processes. All in all, such ways of measuring return on investment could be seen as a symptom of key performance indicator rationality in institutional funding. The reality proves to require more thoughtful planning and patience. Sustainable cultural development requires long-term institutional commitment extending beyond financial injection to encompass education access, community engagement, and systematic bias reduction. An alternative to reductionist thinking in circus's political economy involves accepting that it is about money, but ultimately it is not about money. Meaningful cultural impact emerges from sustained practice rather than isolated interventions from and for the few. This perspective demands different evaluation criteria—ones that prioritise long-term community engagement over short-term audience metrics or revenue generation.

The challenge intensifies when considering circus's unique position within the cultural landscape. Unlike traditional theatrical forms with established institutional frameworks, contemporary circus dynamically inhabits both the spaces of art and popular entertainment. This ambiguity creates opportunities for new sparks but complicates funding justifications within bureaucratic structures designed for clearer categorical distinctions. The commission of Circusdecreet (the main funding stream for circus in Flanders) precisely has to chart through these waters, dissecting applications of this artform full of promises and yet inherently ambiguous.

In her July 2025 update for In Between Time, Bristol, Helen Cole shares that “the future of art isn’t just about putting on a great show anymore. Or creating a great festival. It’s about working together to create worlds where people feel seen, inspired, and ready to dream new futures more than ever before.” This evolution in artistic focus suggests that it may not hinge on constructing new circus apparatus or ‘reinventing’ established disciplines; rather, it emphasises the importance of inclusivity and collaboration in engaging diverse partners, performers from varied backgrounds and hard-to-reach audiences. Cole affirms that the true significance of art lies not in the commercial success of productions targeting familiar demographics, but in their ability to transcend everyday experiences. Circus, with its subversive history that we know, arguably should stand first in line for this job. Achieving this transformative potential necessitates a collective effort, where artists, producers, and programmers unite, daring to craft and promote radical new works that genuinely challenge and inspire. Collaboration looks like when artists dare to make radical works and changes, producers and programmers dare to defend them.

Toward a More Equitable Cultural Economy

The contemporary circus sector stands at a crossroads. European integration offers unprecedented resources for cultural development, while political polarisation threatens arts funding in other regions. Success in traversing this terrain requires acknowledging that cultural policy extends far beyond funding formulas or simply more funding. Most importantly, it requires acknowledging that circus's political potential lies not in grand claims about social transformation, but in the patient work of building inclusive communities one performance or one outreach project at a time. Regional cultural policy's true power may lie precisely here: not in accumulating budgets or asserting autonomous cultural sovereignty, but in gradually reshaping the conditions within which artistic labour, community formation, and cultural recognition become possible. It means that cultural policy must balance regional identity with international cooperation, market efficiency with equitable access and other factors I have not yet mentioned above i.e. artistic research freedom with institutional stability. Only by acknowledging these tensions can circus fulfill its potential as both art form and social practice.

At time of writing this article, President Ursula von der Leyen's proposal to double Creative Europe's culture budget within the 2028-2034 Multiannual Financial Framework represents the latest iteration of European cultural integration. This substantial investment reflects The EU's recognition of culture's role in shaping European identity and values. However, past experience suggests that top-down funding increases do not automatically translate into greater social cohesion or cultural understanding. Will additional resources address structural inequities within existing cultural hierarchies, or will they simply amplify current patterns of privilege and exclusion? The answer depends largely on whether funding mechanisms can evolve beyond traditional approaches that favour established networks over emerging voices. The circus sector's response to this shift will prove telling. The stakes extend beyond artistic careers to encompass fundamental questions about culture's role in democratic societies. In this context, circus as entertainment and art lives out its fullest potential—it becomes a testing ground for Europe's cultural values and political commitments.