Traditional cultural institutions, once central, have become marginal in the face of digital practices that now dominate citizens’ attention. This paradigm shift demands a reinvention of public cultural service—more humble but potentially more impactful.
Cultural institutions in France—museums, theaters, cinemas, heritage sites, festivals, etc.—are symbolically regarded, particularly by sector professionals, as the central hubs of culture. Funded by citizens’ taxes and steered by the state (via the Ministry of Culture) and local authorities (via their cultural departments), these institutions are still perceived as dominant in the symbolic realm. For instance, their choices—such as which artists to exhibit—shape cultural hierarchies. Their dominance primarily extends to the professional, cultural, and artistic spheres through subsidies granted to creators and cultural intermediaries in exchange for exposure. They also influence the media and journalistic systems, which rely on their symbolic aura. Cultural offerings outside these institutions are often deemed less valuable because they lack institutional validation.
The individuals leading these major institutions—heritage custodians, high-ranking civil servants with elite educations—live their professional and even personal lives as figures of authority. Traditionally, this system has been seen as the center. On the margins lie independent galleries, autonomous cultural practices (especially digital ones), and creations that exist but lack the validation of the “central institution.”
Everything happening on digital platforms—recent cultural spaces for consumption and creation (at most 30 years old)—is still symbolically considered peripheral. I recall a film distributor publicly stating in 2019 that a movie’s success on Netflix “didn’t count”; to her, that film simply didn’t exist. Much has changed since—she’s likely forgotten her own words. There’s an obvious hierarchy between the Louvre and YouTube, for example. They don’t operate in the same league. But that was before. What I’m describing belongs, in my view, to the past. I’ll explain why—and why understanding this shift is crucial to renewing the purpose of public cultural action.
Why would I dare such blasphemy against symbolic value? On what absurd, superficial grounds can I dismiss centuries of cultural foundations when everything seems to work perfectly? Sure, some cultural venues face attendance challenges, but major museums remain hugely successful, proving their symbolic superiority and central role in shaping shared cultural values and aesthetics. One could easily dismiss my argument with a wave of the hand.
First, we must define “cultural practices.” These include accessing works of the mind—visual arts, music, painting, audiovisual media, literature, digital arts, etc.—as well as encounters with artists and amateur or professional artistic creation. Hierarchies of value exist, whether in reception or creation, and the public culture system’s values evolve with eras and socio-political contexts. Legitimate culture—what’s symbolically recognized as such—influences popular cultures and is, in turn, influenced by them.
Often, initially popular cultures are later integrated into the legitimate sphere. Take street art: once a rebellious street culture, it’s now polished for museums and cultural mediation, far from its original identity. This legitimization is justified—these graphic and musical works always held value, even before being “recognized.” Values are singular, not inherently ranked. This creates a spectrum of legitimate forms, each with its specifics, including within the symbolic center, which is (thankfully) made of diverse, even opposing, artistic currents.
This preamble highlights a system of mutual influence and capillary symbolic evolution between the central cultural field and marginal ones that gradually merge into the center. This system, I argue, has now flipped.
I posit that the culture carried by French institutions has become, symbolically, marginal in the minds of most citizens—orbiting a new center dominated by digital platforms (websites, social media, etc.), which now command the majority of cultural engagement time. (Note: these aren’t solely “popular” cultures, as we’ll clarify.)
This proposition may seem incongruous, even disrespectful—like the petty disdain “common folk” might project onto elites to compensate for inferiority complexes. But that’s not my intent. This shift stems not from revenge but from a broader disruption common since the digital age began.
Quantitatively: nearly all citizens, with few exceptions, are connected to multiple platforms, averaging 5.5 hours of daily digital cultural consumption—at least 35 hours weekly online. This dwarfs time spent in physical or digital institutional spaces. Even frequent museum-goers might spend 12 hours weekly there (a third of their online time). Most people, despite 35+ hours of weekly online cultural engagement, dedicate far less to institutions.
What are these online practices? Infinitely varied and evolving. Many artists are discovered via social media before entering institutions. The cardinal principle of these now-dominant cultural spaces is disintermediation: artists connect directly with audiences. Even if a self-made artist gains legitimacy (e.g., a musician signed by a label), the label would urge them to keep engaging their fan community—just with amplified marketing.
One might argue these practices, though central in attention time, don’t hold the same symbolic value for individuals. Professionals cling to this reassurance. But observe your own or others’ online behaviors: the issue isn’t hierarchy. Diverse cultural practices coexist—facets of enrichment, none inherently superior. A museum visit or theater outing holds value, just as video-watching or fan community exchanges do. Institutional experiences can be profound, but they’re no longer symbolically “stronger” than digital ones. A live classical concert may not surpass streaming the album or interacting with artists online—sometimes, it disappoints.
Disintermediation disrupts institutions’ former role as taste arbiters. Now, communities self-organize, co-opt, and amplify human connections via digital networks—a scale impossible pre-technology. To downplay this, consider romance: most couples now meet via algorithm-driven apps, not physical spaces. This reshapes lives—and future generations. The same paradigm shift applies to culture.
Whether we lament or applaud it, lucidity about this change is vital to reimagining cultural institutions’ role. I firmly believe public service has a major role in culture—for diversity, for emancipation. My goal isn’t to disqualify institutions but to help them mutate, ensuring they endure. If we ignore this shift, clinging to old values, we’ll fossilize into symbols of a bygone era.
This isn’t about demagoguery or “giving people what they want” to scrape relevance. Youth outreach often falls into this trap: “Let’s do graffiti—it’s their culture.” Or: “Let’s use smartphones—they’ll like that.” Such condescension fools no one.
On the contrary: traditional culture, carried by institutions, retains its full historical significance. Losing dominance doesn’t diminish it—it enhances its potential. Freed from hierarchical exclusion (based on cultural “knowledge”), these formerly central cultures can now forge more connections. People, no longer intimidated, may rediscover them without humiliation.
Cultural rights—advocating cultural democracy over democratization—enable marginalized institutional cultures to respectfully engage with the new center, enriching citizens with their depth. But this requires abandoning the old system of domination. Humility benefits all: those who embrace it and those who feel respected in return.
Concretely, public cultural actors must urgently engage with these new central cultures—each in their own way, as this field evolves relentlessly. Take TikTok in 2025: the most powerful platform for cultural diffusion and creativity. Yet 90% of public cultural professionals (regardless of age) haven’t installed it, dismissing it as trivial or harmful. They choose to remain marginal, ignoring the central practices of their audiences.
How, then, can they address the public? How will their institutions survive if they obscure the main cultural practices of those they serve? Inevitably, they’ll recede into irrelevance, catering only to urban elites or school-mandated visits by working-class children—who’ll never return voluntarily, seeing these spaces as alien and marginal.
Compare this to “Uberization”: the disruption of individual chauffeur-driven rides via apps (Uber first), replacing street-hailed or phoned taxis. Remember taxi drivers’ former power—often condescending, even contemptuous.
Fifteen years post-Uber’s Paris-born inception (and despite anti-capitalist backlash), many taxi drivers now prefer Uber for more work and autonomy. The marginal became central; taxis had to adapt (creating their own apps). The condescending “democratization” of old gave way to genuine democracy. Driver-passenger relations are now more horizontal (though ratings systems are debatable).
Uberization, initially seen as destruction, reconfigured and improved the sector’s humanity. Yes, it enriches vile multinationals and spawns new servitude—but also positive change via digital-driven democracy.
Similarly, the cultural sector’s inversion promises more connections, more “trips” to cultural venues (to extend the metaphor), more trust, mutual enrichment, and far less condescension.
Capitalist excesses exist, but public service’s opportunities for new bonds are immense—if we open to present realities and rethink roles anthropologically.
Finally, consider the “liberated enterprise”: teams gain autonomy, forming self-budgeting units even in hierarchical corporations. A traditional factory, “liberated” by its CEO, dismantles pyramids, creating autonomous groups responsible for results.
Do ex-managers become obsolete? No—their expertise and macro-perspectives remain vital, but now solicited by ground teams as needed. Hierarchy gives way to mutual enrichment.
Likewise, all competencies in cultural institutions can thrive in this new paradigm—more effectively once stripped of domination. They’ll better serve public culture’s mission.
This is a conceptual proposition and call to awareness. I’ve cracked open a door to a vast new field for public culture—once it accepts its marginality. As Godard said, “Margins hold the page together.” Our role remains essential, but repositioned: simpler, humbler, and far more powerful in socio-cultural impact and public service meaning.
My multidisciplinary practices—spanning creation, cultural action, training, and support in a wide range of cultural, social, and educational contexts across France—provide me with a privileged, subjective, and in-depth observatory of the cultural sector in France.
This sector is weakened by its position, often deemed “non-essential” by many political leaders, by the competition from digital platforms in cultural practices, as well as by challenges and obstacles related to the difficulty of establishing interdisciplinary collaborations and the scarcity of evaluations, which are often poorly conducted and instrumentalized.
My observatory allows me to identify dynamics that work, as well as difficulties I observe. Here, I propose to share my analyses, methods, and suggestions, hoping they may prove useful. My goal is to contribute to a stronger cultural sector in the future, as I believe that defending a cultural sector funded by taxpayers’ money holds the potential for emancipation, the development of freedoms, democracy, and the capacity to act—in a way that is fundamentally different from what private actors produce.
This is possible if there is no hypocrisy, and in my view, it comes at the cost of a commitment to lucidity and self-questioning, a choice to deconstruct representations, and perhaps to challenge certain privileges and systems of domination.