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# Ask Alex: All things considered, do we really need art?
- URL: https://it-can-only-get-stranger.ghost.io/ask-alex-all-things-considered-do-we-really-need-art/
- Published: 2026-09-28T23:16:32.000Z
- Updated: 2026-09-28T23:45:29.000Z
- Author: Alex Steed

"Does the world really need my art with how a lot of people don't have necessities?"

— Anonymous

Thank you so much for this thoughtful question. Without broader context on hand I'm going to address a few different interpretations of what one might motivate it. 

But before I get into any of that, I'll say it resoundingly: yes. The world needs art, regardless of the state of its compounded, overwhelming plights. And by the world, I mean us. Humans need art, for a number of reasons.

I can imagine two reasons a person might ask this question. The first is to suggest that, of all the productive hours at our disposal, we should spend them on dire material issues rather than on matters of concept and culture. Concepts and creativity and art can sometimes seem silly and frivolous when you set them, even in passing, against the plights faced by so many people and by humanity overall. The second is to ask whether art has meaning or use at all in the face of these compounded, daunting scenarios.

I’ll start with the first. The problems we face are mostly not problems of too many people choosing art and cultural creation over offering material support and solutions. The problem is that systems and holders of wealth and power have created, enforced, and entrenched artificial scarcities. Those scarcities govern the material realities of these plights. In other words, we are not going to recycle our way out of the climate crisis. Larger, systemic changes need to take place: in power structures, in our relationship with capital, in human governance, in priorities, a number of other systems. Risks aren’t being posed because too many people are painting, or making sculptures or video installations or whatever. When it comes to action, whether personal, collective, or private, it is not art that is getting in the way of progress against these deficits.

And even if the question is whether we should put our time toward directly and exclusively toward material issues or toward conceptual and cultural ones, it's a false dichotomy. Concepts manifested in art ideally result don’t exclusively reside on the conceptual. People see them. They're moved by them. The way they respond may shift how they act. That's not to say the only meaningful art is art that moves people to social justice action. But building culture through art isn't purely conceptual, set against more “productive” meaningful, material actions.

Related to this, the ways we engage struggle are rarely two-dimensional or confined to one lane. An artist can also take more direct action. Their artistry doesn't extract them from other forms of engagement, especially if they're in moderately privileged positions.

It's also worth noting that the struggles facing creative people are intertwined with all other humanitarian struggles. Everyone is facing an acceleration being on the losing end of hoarded capital. At this point, it leaves so little for investment in the humanities, or in the any program that offsets the callous brutalities of capitalism.

The second reason for the question is best addressed by thinking about what art is for. We're living in an accelerated time of—dramatic scare quote pantomime—progress. People feel increasingly alienated by a system that seems to be leaving humanity behind. In a time like this, we benefit from being challenged to think about and sit with our humanity. Art does that better than anything done strictly because it's materially efficient, or strictly because it's the most economical thing to do. And by economical, I don't just mean it in a small-c conservative sense. I mean the idea that something is the best way to spend time and labor when you consider all the problems ahead.

None of this means that, if the scarcity were real, all available dollars and time should go into art instead of humanitarian efforts. Or that art should take away from efforts to find a post-capitalist reality that better serves human aspiration, the human condition, and a humane standard of living. And I should say a decent standard of living for everyone and everything we share the planet with, not just humans. But the scarcity as it's presented is artificial. So that shouldn't be how we frame it. We should always be thinking about how to confront the system in ways that expose that myth, and act accordingly.

Art matters both in the process of creating it and in the process of receiving what it creates. It's important for understanding what we're fighting for and who we're fighting for. Or, less contentiously, what we're ***living*** for. What's the purpose of being here?

I am–annoyingly–a generally spiritual person. I don't necessarily have a practice, but I do believe there's some sense to the ways we experience the chaos and the symbols of the world even if it is exclusively contained in our willingness to look for it. Maybe there’s a bit of poetic sense in there, too. I think creativity and artistry are among the most direct ways to tap into that larger source. And receiving those fruits is a way to experience the divine. I'm not so arrogant as to call these things God. But when I'm in these flows, or receiving them, it feels divine. I think a lot of people feel that without using such lofty language. Art is how we touch things bigger than us, and how we're touched by things bigger than us. Sometimes that bigger thing isn't external. It's internal. Art reminds us that we're unified, both in our experience and in our alienation.

That doesn't mean I think all fruits of creativity or whatever are good, or valuable, or that all art is excellent. Capitalist systems decide which visions get resources to take shape. So even well-intended work can be co-opted by the systems that sponsor its production or deliver its audience. Concessions in vision and implementation are likely to appeal to these processes. A great and hilarious example of this in real time is the plot of the show *The Studio*, which shows how a well-intended visionary’s work—for which he has great passion—gets perverted as it runs through the Hollywood studio system. If you haven’t seen it it’s funny as hell. 

When I was a kid, there were endless debates about what was selling out, what wasn't, and what selling out even meant. While some of those debates were blunt and stupid, the post-selling-out system we're in now is corrupted by how many deals with devils one has to make just to get your art passively heard. The most minor transgression is feeding the bottomlessly hungry kaiju that is social media, which we barely even consider anymore. The most major is agreeing to toxic pairings and partnerships to find an audience through subscription services, and so on. In order to get seen or made or hosted or distributed, an artist may have to make X, Y, and Z concession consciously or, more often than not, unconsciously as a means of complying with terms of engagement both said and unsaid. Meanwhile, the systems that once supported artists with fewer or less strings attached keep getting gutted. And even those systems were still corrupted by partisan politics and opportunists. Artists should be self-critical, honest and clear-eyed about their participation in these systems and people experiencing art should be aware of these contexts as well. 

In the face of all this, it remains important to keep a critical eye. One that can see the art, the avenue, and the implications of both. One that understands what art is, what commercialism and corporatism is, and where each meet or intertwine. Nearly every bit of creativity we see is tied up with some level of commercialism, either inherently or through how it's presented.

This means we need art, and we also need critics. The outcome of all-influencer-everything culture prioritizes stylized takes over criticism, which isn't ideal for a level of discourse that ensures we are finding ways to see more broadly and deeply. There are great, thoughtful critics thriving on platforms like YouTube, even as the appetite for criticism seems to be shrinking in larger press outlets. There's a caricature of the critic as a failed artist. Those who can't do, critique, as it were. While it can be true, the competent critic remains more imperative than ever. But we need critics to help us look at these works and think critically about what they mean, for ourselves and for all of us, and how they exist within these systems.

Finally, beyond the spiritual ways art touches us, we need to make sure our actions in the face of these plights are informed by something larger than reflexes limited by our existing perspectives and worldviews. We need a broad understanding of the problems we're addressing and the systems they exist within. That comes from an appreciation for abstraction, the humanities, social sciences, and broader forms of literacy. But it also comes from keeping an open, active imagination that reaches beyond ourselves and beyond somewhat myopic views of material reality. Art and criticism offer ways of seeing, and an understanding of why we see the way we do. Ways of experiencing, and why we experience things the way we do. These keep us open to broader understandings. They can inspire us by keeping alive reminders of what we live for, what we fight for. They can open us to realities beyond our personal experience. And they can keep our aspirational universes larger than our egos would allow on their own.

Thank you again for your thoughtful question. It got me thinking, and I'm sure I'll keep thinking about it.

—

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