What if digital cultures showed us how to build the commons through distribution rather than centralization? This hypothesis invites us to rethink cultural fragmentation not as a threat but as an opportunity.
Digital platforms seem to have succeeded in an audacious bet: creating shared meaning from dizzying diversity. YouTube hosts billions of videos in all languages, on every imaginable subject. TikTok sees traditional African dance coexist with quantum physics, grandmother’s recipes with political activism. Yet this apparent cacophony produces vibrant communities, deep learning, effective transmission.
Could we see a lesson here? These spaces suggest that diversity may not be the enemy of the commons but its very condition. The more different content there is, the more everyone can find their place, their path, their peers. The commons would then emerge not from top-down standardization but from a multitude of horizontal connections between heterogeneous elements.
This hypothesis questions the traditional approach of the public cultural sector, inherited from a vision where the people had to be “elevated” toward a single legitimate culture. What if digital technology showed us that the commons could be built through aggregation of singularities, not through imposition of a model? Wikipedia doesn’t have a unique style but millions of voices that converge thanks to shared protocols - perhaps a path to explore for the cultural sector.
Interoperability could be more than a technical issue. We could see it as a philosophy allowing different systems to communicate without losing their specificity. In the digital world, it’s embodied in open standards, public APIs, free formats that enable circulation without standardization.
What if the cultural sector adopted this philosophy? This could mean abandoning the temptation of the centralized system, of the single platform that would manage everything. Experience suggests that these digital cathedrals often become problematic spaces of power. Wouldn’t it be more relevant to think archipelago: autonomous islands connected by light bridges?
This approach could take concrete forms:
Digital commons seem to have grasped something essential: unity could come not from content but from method. Wikipedia doesn’t prescribe what to write but how to write together. Free software doesn’t dictate functionalities but contribution processes.
Could this approach resolve the apparent contradiction between diversity and coherence? We could imagine an explosion of cultural projects in companies, hospitals, transport systems, while building commons if these projects shared certain methods:
Could distribution make the cultural sector more antifragile, in the sense Nassim Nicholas Taleb means it? A distributed system could have this remarkable property: shocks that weaken certain nodes strengthen the whole through collective learning. If a project fails, its documentation allows others to learn. If a crisis occurs, the diversity of approaches increases the chances that a solution will emerge.
This antifragility might involve:
The most difficult part of this transformation might be accepting to let go. Cultural institutions were built on the idea that they knew what was good for the public. What if digital technology invited us to bet on distributed intelligence, on knowledge that emerges from interactions rather than prescriptions?
This trust wouldn’t mean abandoning all requirements. The most successful digital commons have rules, but these rules are collectively negotiated, evolving, transparent. They aim to enable productive coexistence of differences rather than imposing a single norm.
These hypotheses don’t claim to propose a truth but to open paths. The mistake might be wanting to define a priori what the cultural commons should be. Digital cultures suggest that the commons emerges, it isn’t decreed. It’s born from connecting diversities that find, along the way, their resonances and complementarities.
The fragmentation of the cultural sector could only be virtuous under certain conditions: documenting our experiences with generosity, opening our methods to discussion, weaving horizontal links without pre-established hierarchy, welcoming the unexpected as wealth. It’s perhaps by cultivating these practices that we’ll build a truly common culture.
Digital technology is neither the solution nor the model to copy. It perhaps simply offers us inspiration: we could make society differently, diversity could be a strength when accompanied by tools for connection, culture might not need cathedrals but living networks. It’s up to us to invent, experiment, learn together the concrete forms of this new cultural deal.
This transformation would invite a form of creative humility: accepting not to control everything, trusting emergent processes, carefully documenting our tentative steps. It’s perhaps at this price that the distributed cultural sector could become not a dilution but an enrichment of the commons, that is, the emancipation of each individual, going hand in hand with a refoundation of democracy in our new reality.
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.