The Arts are the Glue that Holds Civilization Together

Something I have been thinking about a lot since the emergence of the COVID-19 pandemic and its profound impact on American (and global) society is the place of the arts in our everyday lives. So many of us are binge watching Netflix or other services, reading far more than we used to, downloading comics or writing our own stories, perusing fine art or setting up easels of our own, or doing all manner of creative and artsy things, both for amusement and to keep ourselves busy. I’ve been cramming in a metric ton (officially weight) of Star Trek across four decades of the franchise, blogging (as I am here), and cataloguing my books (not so artsy, but still nice). For myself, this has been part of an effort to keep me from the more destructive behaviors I might engage in (ranting on Twitter, for example) and to help me adjust to what will surely be 2 or 3 months (at least) of near total physical isolation for others.

And in doing all of this and seeing all of what is happening around me, I’ve started to answer a crucial question out loud to myself: why do the arts matter yesterday, today, and tomorrow? And I think I’ve got a decent answer to that. I’d argue that the arts are the glue that holds civilization together on both the personal, national, and global scale. It’s the thing that allow us to express ourselves, to find joy and relief, to be human and explore what that even means. The arts are everything.

One thing that becomes clear in all of this is the absolutely essential function of the arts in our lives. So many of us are stuck at home with digital libraries stuffed with television and film, DVD collections, book collections, library access to digital collections of books, comics, music, and more. We’re surrounded by the arts in a profound way, and for many, the arts are the thing keeping them from losing it in the face of so much stress and uncertainty. We can lose ourselves in our favorite television show or find new friends in something we’ve never seen. Whether we wanted the extra time to pursue a hobby or practice one we already fell in love with, a lot of us (not all) got it. Unsure what to do with ourselves, we surrounded our minds with the arts, relishing in the way it makes us feel to consume the creations of others or make our own. Here I am writing a blog, a work of creative non-fiction, to explore the thoughts and feelings in my mind, a thing I’ve performed before but now find is more meaningful and necessary as I try to deal with nearly a month in social isolation — from friends, from family, from my girlfriend.

More than its, shall we say, therapeutic function, the arts are also the foundation of the human exploration of the world around us, both in its joyous and horrific aspects. The arts can be an escape and a solace, but they can also be the mirror that reflects the world and gives us a new way to think about who we were, are, and might be. They can challenge the powerful and uplift the powerless, reveal broken systems and imagine ways to mend, interrogate contradictions and wonder, chaos and meaning, terror and beauty. And where the arts do not present a mirror, they give us awe — at nature, at reality, at self. Throughout time, great monuments, both functional and purely artistic, have stood, letting us glimpse into other cultures and stand in awe at their accomplishments. From architecture and sculpture, literature, philosophy, and fine art, the mark of human civilizations to the deepest past remains the arts, with its cousin, science, providing the rational, empirical explanation for what is what. Cave men left us paintings. The ancient Egyptians left incredible monuments to their pharaohs and gods. The Romans built astonishing halls and left profound sculptures and philosophy. The Japanese sculpted profound religious symbols and developed incredible works of theater (kabuki!). The indigenous peoples of the world made great pottery and dress and stories. The Germans and French and British gave us great music, paintings, and literature. And on and on. They gave us glimpses into their worlds, into the human spirit, into who we were, are, and might be as people.

Without these things, we are merely biological machines. We are cogs providing labor to the wheel, living empty lives without meaning and purpose. The arts matter. The arts are everything. Without them, we are, if I dare get dramatic, nothing. We are just biology. Just arms and legs on a torso of circulations and movement. But with the arts, we are expressive, human, made of thoughts and fears and wonders and love and joy and terrifyingly powerful ponderings. And when you dig right down to the essentials, you can come to the weirdly abstracted realization that civilization is merely the vehicle for the arts — a wonky vehicle with wobbly tires, a cracked axle, and a tendency to veer to the right. The arts keep that vehicle on the road, churning forward toward this impossible thing called the future and progress. It sometimes takes a right turn, sometimes plunges off a cliff, but in due time, the arts is back at the wheel, pulling us along in our broken, squishy, and tumbly way.

Right now, the arts are more important than ever because we are afraid, not just about this pandemic, but also the state of our nations, our friends and families, our futures. And you can tell a lot about someone by where they place arts in the balance of the future.

As for me, I think it’s clear where I stand. The arts are everything. The arts are the glue that holds civilization together.

Now excuse me. I’m going to go read a book…