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Last year provided the European cultural community with much to reflect on and act upon: the European elections and the rise of far-right influence, the new European Parliament, the new Commissioner for Culture, and the adoption of the AI Act—all unfolding amid global unrest.

In this piece, Culture Action Europe offers a meta-level perspective. Reflect with us on what the recent changes reveal about the idea of cultural policy and what they imply for the future of governance in the cultural sector in 2025.

1. Culture, the far-right’s favourite child

Culture is sidelined in EU politics, claims our State of Culture report. Yet, it is only partly true. The far-right, who in 2024 continued their steady ascent, clearly prioritise cultural affairs. They fought for the chairmanship of the European Parliament’s Committee on Culture and Education. They come to the Committee meetings well-prepared, confident, and assertive, normalising talks about ‘gender propaganda’ and questioning the funding of projects on migration. They make friends with Russia, a global sponsor of authoritarianism, that spent over €1.1 billion on media and culture in occupied territories of Ukraine alone when the EU’s Creative Europe budget for 2024 was €335 million. 

Here is the paradox: authoritarian regimes invest heavily in cultural policy, treating it as a tool of power—without the diminutive adjective ‘soft.’ This has been evident for some time, from Lenin and Mussolini’s declaration that ‘Cinema is the most powerful weapon’ to ‘Panem et circenses’ in The Hunger Games. 

By contrast, the democratic response remains far behind the scale of autocracies’ investments. The EU—which, on paper, identifies culture as a foundation of EU values, democracy, and unity—fails to act decisively. Subsidiarity. Supporting competence. As a fundamentally democratic project, the EU cannot impose a cultural policy on its Member States. What was once a safeguard has become a double-edged sword. 

With Trump’s victory, we anticipate greater polarisation, increased spending on the arms race, and support for culture insofar as it serves the militarised agenda. This is a reminder that culture is never apolitical—it compels you to choose a side if you haven’t already.

The EU faces an existential choice: either remain confined to its limited competence, letting its citizens be exposed to authoritarian influence and eroding its own democratic legitimacy, as demonstrated in Romania elections, or invest in culture as a strategic pillar for security and resilience. 2% for defence, 2% for culture. 

Things to follow in 2025: the preparation of the next Multiannual Financial Framework, the EU’s seven-year budget for 2028–2034. The European Commission is expected to submit its first proposal by July 2025. Polish and Danish Presidencies of the Council of the EU will play crucial roles in the negotiations. Another area to follow is the development of the European Democracy Shield and culture’s role in it. 

2. Negative cultural policy is not where it’s needed most

The rightward cultural shift is tightening the screws on artistic freedom. In Slovakia and Portugal, leaders of cultural institutions were dismissed for political reasons. We saw proposals to cut funding for ‘non-traditional’ culture in Hungary, France, Germany, and the Netherlands. There are more and more instances of ‘negative cultural policy’ at the Member State level, which means cultural expressions are treated as potential threats to be contained through prohibitions, restrictive licenses and taxes, and systematic administrative censorship.

Ironically, in some areas, ‘negative policy’ is long overdue but nowhere to be found. Take technological content control—limiting AI’s reach into cultural production. In 2024, the EU introduced the world’s first comprehensive Artificial Intelligence Act to regulate AI’s development and deployment. But for artists, creators, and cultural professionals, it has raised questions more than answered them.

While the Act grants creators the right to opt out of having their work used for AI training, there are no standardised protocols or accessible enforcement mechanisms so far. Tech companies can simply ignore opt-outs. The much-touted Code of Practice, intended to guide compliance, is non-binding and leaves creators in a grey legal zone.

Audiences, too, are fed up with AI-generated ‘slop’ on social media. New models like SORA and GPT-01 promise more sophistication, but deepfake labelling, required by the AI Act, is conspicuously absent from the draft Code of Practice.

Many creators would prefer to ban content derived from copyrighted material and prohibit cultural data sourcing by default. We’ve reached a phase where ‘negative policy’—restrictions and regulations—is deemed necessary to preserve human cultural authenticity.

In 2025, we can expect more culture wars and increased restrictions, particularly in Member States, to exert control and shape content to fit specific agendas. At the same time, advocacy efforts will try to shield culture from the invasive and exploitative impacts of AI. Apocalyptic times make us withdraw and restrain rather than remain open to the world.

Others argue that culture should adapt to the changes, not fight with them. And then there’s Google’s unveiling of a quantum chip and even bigger technological shifts ahead. Quantum computing promises breakthroughs in pharmaceuticals, cryptography, and finance. The question is: how will it redefine culture? If we are already struggling to govern AI, are we prepared for what comes next?

Things to follow in 2025: the adoption of the AI Code of Practice in May, the trajectory of national funding for culture and the conditionalities attached to it, and the ongoing discussion around the review of the European Commission’s Rule of Law Report, where Culture Action Europe is advocating for the inclusion of Artistic Freedom. 

3. The ungovernability of culture is both a limitation and a strength

In 2024, the Culture2030Goal campaign continued advocating for the recognition of culture as a standalone Sustainable Development Goal. Initial optimism waned, however, when the UN Pact for the Future grouped culture with sport, reducing it to just another tool for sustainable development. 

Critics—and we at Culture Action Europe, too—argue that current cultural policies treat culture as a tool to achieve other policy goals without ensuring the cultural sector’s own vitality. The creative industries narrative now faces growing scepticism; at the same time, the global cultural marketplace becomes more monopolised by major content-producing companies.

The vision for a new cultural policy remains fractured. Should it centre on the commons and self-governed communities? Revive the age of philanthropists and patrons? Frame culture as a fundamental human right—or a public good?

For several years, scholars have debated ‘the end of cultural policy,’ ‘deculturation,’ and cultural ‘decline.’ As we consider new approaches in 2025, it’s worth remembering that culture is bigger than us and cannot be fully reduced to a set of shared social codes. Its inherent ungovernability both protects it from the full authoritarian takeover and keeps it from becoming entirely clear, manageable, and transparent. 

While we assign culture the tasks of imagining futures and bridging social polarisation, it may hold something else for us. As long as we reduce culture to a policy tool, we risk missing what it is telling us: it’s not here to solve our problems but to confront what we become when the world obscures our sight. 

Things to follow in 2025: Cultural Deal for Europe Policy Conversation (4 February, Brussels), UNESCO’s cultural policy conference Mondiacult (29 September – 1 October, Barcelona).