What are cultural rights?

Cultural rights were first introduced in the 1948 Universal Declaration of Human Rights with Article 27 recognising the right to take part in cultural life. Later, Article 15 of the 1966 International Covenant on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights consolidated them. So, firstly, it’s important to remember that cultural rights are human rights that are indistinguishable from all others.

It’s true that talking about cultural rights can be confusing: despite efforts to clarify them, multiple categories emerge in different international texts. Moreover, the value of culture has been measured in economic terms for decades – its contribution to GDP, its impact on employment – and this is important, but it is not its only dimension. And then there’s also the lingering idea that culture belongs in the private sphere, unlike education or health, which are usually considered public services.

A good way to understand cultural rights is to think about why we talk about them in the plural. In general, when we talk about the right to culture, we tend to think of access to services and facilities or forms of cultural expression. However, our relationship with culture is much broader; it has to do with our creative capacities, the use of our language, the governance of a cultural heritage, the sharing and transformation of traditions, community culture or participation in the management and evaluation of cultural policies. Understanding our relationship with culture from the perspective of this multiplicity of manifestations allows us to recognise culture as a structural dimension of our existence that is by no means secondary or dispensable.

In your book (Cultura Ingobernable) you point out that “culture has been relegated to a mere act of consumption, instead of being a space for creating bonds and community”. Why do you think this happens?

I think that, among other reasons, it has to do with the fact that the institutionalisation of culture has focused above all on the idea of education, heritage and the promotion of industries, but has hardly worked on its social dimension or the capacity for cultural agency.

With the emergence of cultural policy in the 20th century, the role of the state was primarily centred on guaranteeing access to a certain heritage and then on promoting the arts and cultural industries. With the emergence of consumer society and mass culture, the market began to share with the state the role of mediator regarding access to cultural goods, artworks and products – reinforcing our relationship with culture from a spectator perspective. Culture began to be conceived as a product and not as a right.

The truth is that cultural rights have never been at the centre of public action in culture, and so we tend to forget that culture is a right.

What makes culture “ungovernable”?

The idea of culture being ungovernable is based on the fact that culture is not and should not be made by institutions, but is an expression and manifestation of society, communities and individuals. This means that the role of the public sector is not to provide culture, but to generate the material conditions so that cultural practices can proliferate, so that society’s projects can take place and everyone can enjoy a fulfilling cultural life. The responsibility of government in the cultural sphere is to redistribute resources and opportunities so that people and communities can be the protagonists of their own cultural life.

For this to happen, the fundamental task of an institution is to nurture and foster what exists outside its walls. This is, in fact, the constitutive paradox of cultural public management: if culture is to be strong, if cultural vitality is to flourish, it has to escape from the institution itself. The more culture is able to extend beyond institutional work, the more we will know that an institution is accomplishing its mission. This is why to govern culture is, in a way, creating the conditions for its ungovernability.

How can cultural manifestations be a collective project?

Culture itself is already a collective project since it can only exist if there is a community; there is no community without culture. It connects us to others in many different ways, through the stories in which we step into other realities, by sharing experiences such as a concert or a film, by forming bands or book clubs. All these experiences are about something we do with others, something that not only generates well-being, but also allows us to live together.

Cultural practices create spaces for experiencing life together, which is crucial at a time when strengthening community ties is seen as a way out of today’s crises. Culture is an ideal medium for recognising each other, for connecting and for forging new social relationships when many have been broken. In addition, it has a unique way of bringing different people together beyond fixed identities or rigid hierarchies. This is why cultural contexts are ideal places for democratic experimentation, for cooperation and for diversity. Here lies enormous political power.

Moreover, it is also fundamental for the self-organisation of the social fabric. Through cultural experiences, the social fabric is activated and structured, which is fundamental for strengthening democracy. The livelier and more dynamic this social fabric is, the more individuals and collectives will be able to intervene in the public sphere, have a voice and be organised to take action on what is common. This is why culture works as a kind of trojan horse for the politicisation of society, not because it conveys concrete messages, but because it intervenes in the organisation of society and social ties.

What is the place of participatory art in this approach to culture?

It’s true that ‘participation’ has become a cliché, ranging from marketing strategies to community practices or citizen empowerment. Even so, it remains central to cultural policy. On the one hand, because, as I’ve mentioned, it summarises all the dimensions of our relationship with culture. On the other hand, because it is a strategy for connecting and creating bonds and a fundamental way of obtaining feedback on how public policies are perceived and applied, in order to improve them.

Nevertheless, I believe that we must move beyond the paradigm of participation and move towards a redistribution of cultural resources and the ceding of power to citizens by institutions, so that citizens can define what culture is, produce it, manage it and design the policies that affect them. Without this possibility, cultural rights cannot be fully exercised.

It is not easy. Giving up power is hard, and the political sphere tends to avoid it. Perhaps that’s why, after decades of debate, cultural democracy remains marginal in practice. But if we really want to move it forward, this is the way to go. Like democracy, cultural democracy requires the redistribution of power and resources.

But there is more: power must be surrendered not only so that culture can proliferate, but also so that it can question power itself. Because it is this questioning that keeps society alive and moving.

What is the aim of the Directorate General for Cultural Rights? Why did it need to be created?

It was created in March 2024 and I always say that it is the result of the collective work of those who, from the management, creation, legal or academic fields, have been promoting the framework of cultural rights for more than a decade. One of its main contributions to the ministry’s structure is to complete and complement the sectoral and patrimonial dimension of culture – centred on the conservation, protection and promotion of productive sectors – with what should be the centre of public policy: citizens and the exercise of their cultural rights.

Placing citizenship at the centre means addressing two fundamental vectors: equity and diversity. Culture is one of the most unequal areas, but one where inequality gets analysed the least. Currently, public resources mainly benefit groups with higher socio-economic status and less ethnic diversity. Studies such as The Future of Cultural Value or Culture is Bad for You show how class, gender and ethnicity determine access to and participation in culture. The access-based policies of the 20th century have made progress, but the truth is that not only have they not reduced inequalities, but in many cases they have exacerbated them.

That’s why, for the Directorate, it’s crucial to address socio-economic, gender, ethnic, disability or territorial barriers and to recognise cultural diversity in all its forms. Our first action was the State Plan for Cultural Rights, a roadmap covering topics such as local development, education, gender equality, diversity, disability and digital rights. It was conceived as a participatory process involving cultural agents, citizens and administrations, and we plan to present it publicly in May.

How do you imagine the future after your mandate? What are you hoping will have changed?

For me, the most important challenge is reconnecting culture with social interest. Currently, many sectors of the population are disconnected from culture, either because it is seen as the exclusive domain of specialists or as a mere consumer product. It has been assumed that culture only concerns those who dedicate themselves to it professionally, when in fact it is a social practice that belongs to everyone.

That’s why I’d like to help ensure that culture is gradually no longer seen as something extraordinary, sacred or limited to leisure, but can be experienced in its everyday, shared dimension.

This change in perspective also means moving away from the sectoral view of culture and strengthening its links with other fundamental areas such as education, health, social innovation or sustainability. If culture reaches into all these areas, its impact on people’s lives will be deeper and more tangible.

And in practical terms, this has to do with redistributing public resources so that they reach those who have the least access to them. I hope to have made a contribution, however small, in this direction.