On Success.
Many in the arts cling to romantic notions that no longer serve them. Is it time to reframe what it means to succeed as an artist?
While some artists define success as critical acclaim, others define it simply as the ability to create and share their work, irrespective of reward (The “I don’t care about money” crowd). A handful, however, define success as financial stability or, more precisely, the ability to persevere by profiting from their creative labor. But if you are familiar with the arts, you’ll know this latter view has its detractors—and extremely vocal ones.
Many in the arts believe that talk of money isn’t relevant to discussions of success, much less an appropriate motivating factor for artists. To these critics, the purest, most innovative, and most socially responsible motivation for art production has nothing to do with the marketplace. These individuals believe that absorption with matters of money can lead to a narrow view of what art is and what it can achieve. They argue that art has the power to inspire, challenge, and provoke—that it can have social and political significance beyond its economic value. In their understanding, artists who feel pressured to achieve financial stability are less likely to take risks or experiment with new ideas or approaches, which can stifle creativity and innovation.
But is any of that true? Or are artists who champion this perspective inadvertently contributing to a culture that makes it increasingly difficult to pursue their craft as a viable career?
Let's begin by addressing the idea that pursuing financial stability hampers artistic innovation—the most straightforward claim to refute. To understand why, we need only look at the broader landscape of human achievement, where there is ample evidence to the contrary.
Here’s the thing: if monetary concerns stifled creativity, we wouldn’t have any of the stunning technological, systemic, and cultural innovations we have today. We'd be stuck in a world of stagnation, bartering for the necessities of life rather than experiencing the incredible advancements and conveniences we currently enjoy. Here’s how the process has historically played out: financial rewards and recognition that come with success in a market-based system act as powerful motivators for creators to hone their skills, refine their vision, and strive for excellence in their work—and this drive to stand out in the market leads to a proliferation of diverse and groundbreaking works that likely would not have emerged in a system without financial enticements. In short, the marketplace's ability to reward and incentivize innovation has been a key driver behind the continuous evolution and advancement of human endeavors—including art—pushing creators to explore new frontiers and challenge the status quo.
Therefore, critics who denounce the profit motive are wrong to think it stifles creative exploration. Indeed, they are so wrong as to be diametrically opposed to the actual facts of the matter.
Many artists of this type will undoubtedly misread this argument as a call for the complete commercialization of art. They’ll call foul, claiming it encourages artists to pander to the lowest common denominator and sacrifice their artistic integrity. But that’s a silly, reactionary misinterpretation of the argument. It’s also demonstrative of a fundamental misunderstanding of how markets operate. These critics fail to recognize that the marketplace is not a monolith but a complex ecosystem of different tastes, preferences, and communities, providing ample room for creators of all types to find their niche and build a loyal following. One need not compromise one’s vision in such an environment.
Let’s dive a bit deeper to further the case.
In today's world of plenty, the vast majority of goods and services we consume are not essential for survival but rather cater to our higher-level needs and desires. Because of this, businesses across industries invest heavily in crafting and communicating the unique value of their offerings in order to make sales. They understand something very important: nowadays, purchasing behavior is rarely driven by privation. Instead, it is motivated by individuals’ constantly shifting aspirations and identities. That means the perceived value of a product or service (including artistic creations) is primarily shaped by how well it aligns with and appeals to these evolving desires and self-conceptions rather than any objective measure of necessity or utility. The point is that a market-based system doesn’t constrain creative potentiality the way many artists seem to believe it does. On the contrary, it helps produce conditions where the value of one’s art is determined primarily by one’s ability to connect with and influence the ever-evolving desires and character of one’s audience.
The real kicker is that these dynamics make art indistinguishable from most modern products or services. For all intents and purposes, it sits comfortably alongside a pair of Nike shoes, a box of fresh croissants, news subscriptions, and a bar tab, among countless other things.
And now we’ve stumbled upon where the real tension lies: many artists see themselves as belonging to a rarefied class of visionaries and truth-tellers whose work carries a weight and significance that sets it apart from mere consumer goods. In other words, by dint of the fact they make something called art, they see themselves as belonging to a higher order of creators.
They’d rather be seen as prophets and priests than producers or technicians.
But in truth—and I know this will enrage many artists—art on its own is no more transcendent than a stick of gum. Like so many other products, it requires framing, contextualization, and the development of a compelling narrative around its meaning and value. Again, this is like any other product or service vying for attention in a crowded marketplace. Sure, art can indeed have social and political significance; it can certainly inspire, challenge, and provoke. But the same could be said of the smartphone in your pocket, your shirt, the food you eat, and the books you choose to read, all of which embody a complex web of meanings, values, and aspirations. Numerous consumer brands have transcended their basic utility to become cultural icons, symbols of identity and belonging, and even agents of social and political change. They impact our lives in profound and far-reaching ways.
So, how, specifically, is art different?
At the end of the day, insisting on art's special status as a unique force, separate from the realities of the market, is ultimately a distinction without a difference. Art does not, in fact, stand apart. It's a romantic notion, to be sure, but one that crumbles under the weight of even the most cursory examination of how it is created, disseminated, and consumed in the real world.
But if art doesn’t belong to some higher order of human output and modern markets allow for endless creative optionality, why are artists suffering? Why do so many see markets—and capitalism, especially—as antithetical to creative freedom?
The root of the problem lies in artists' tendency to conflate capitalism and commercialism, erroneously attributing the negative influences of the latter to the former. However, capitalism, as an economic system based on private ownership and free-market competition, is not inherently detrimental to the arts. As already argued, it produces conditions where the arts can flourish. Commercialism, on the other hand, refers to the prioritization of profit and mass appeal over artistic merit or originality. When artists criticize capitalism, therefore, most are actually targeting the commercialization of art—the pressure to create work that is easily marketable and appealing to the broadest possible audience. This pressure can indeed lead to the homogenization of art if artists succumb to it and sacrifice their unique vision to achieve commercial success. However, it is crucial to recognize that commercialism is not unique to capitalism. The pressure to conform to popular tastes and the influence of powerful gatekeepers can exist in various economic and political systems (I wrote about this dynamic previously). That means artists who single out capitalism as the root of all evil are not only misdiagnosing the problem but also limiting their ability to thrive. They suffer largely because they have internalized a false dichotomy between artistic integrity and financial success, leading them to view the market as an inherently hostile force rather than a potential ally in their creative endeavors.
Another conceptual misunderstanding revealed in numerous artists’ complaints is the belief that the value of their work should be self-evident. That is, its value should be an undeniable and irrefutable fact that speaks for itself rather than something that must be actively communicated and demonstrated to potential audiences and supporters. This belief is made obvious through these artists’ behavior, too. Many live their lives as if they’re waiting for the proverbial knock of destiny. You know the story. It’s the one where a prestigious gallerist eager to catapult the artist to stardom makes a miraculous appearance. But in reality, nobody’s beating a path to their door. That’s because the road to artistic recognition is not a passive waiting game but an active process of building relationships, creating opportunities, and crafting compelling narratives around one's work.
Some will think I’m encouraging a 'sell-out' mentality here. Once again, that’s a misreading that completely overlooks the overarching point. Embracing financial stability doesn't mean compromising artistic vision or integrity. Instead, it means developing the skills and mindset necessary to navigate the realities of the art world effectively. Full stop.
It should be obvious to most levelheaded readers that financial stability allows for increased artistic freedom. It’s not difficult to understand that when artists do not have to worry about making ends meet, they can take more risks, invest more time in their craft, and pursue ambitious projects that might not have immediate commercial appeal. In this way, financial success is a tool for greater artistic exploration and innovation, and by taking it more seriously, artists can open themselves up to a world of possibilities. When artists learn to see the market not as a constraint but as a complex ecosystem full of niches and opportunities, they can always find ways to stay true to their vision while also building a sustainable career. But for many in the arts, this is difficult to grasp.
It should be clear by now that many in the arts need to reframe their understanding of success.
While critical acclaim and the ability to create for creation's sake have their merits, more artists should consider defining success in terms of financial stability and the ability to sustain themselves through their creative labor. This shift in perspective doesn't mean sacrificing artistic integrity or pandering to the lowest common denominator. Instead, it involves recognizing the realities of the market. By understanding that art, like any other product or service, requires effective communication of its value, artists can position themselves to thrive in a market-based system rather than viewing it as an adversary.
Embracing this mindset also means letting go of the romantic notion that art exists in a realm separate from commerce. It means acknowledging that success will never come from passively waiting for recognition but from actively building relationships, creating opportunities, and crafting compelling narratives around one's work. It means engaging with the world outside one’s studio.
This approach doesn't diminish the power of art to inspire, challenge, and provoke. Instead, it provides a sustainable foundation from which artists can continue to create, innovate, and contribute to society—and in doing so, artists can ensure that their voices have a lasting impact.
But this shift is not just about individual artists' well-being; it's about fostering a vibrant, diverse, and sustainable artistic ecosystem that can continue to enrich our culture for generations to come.
And who in their right mind doesn’t want to get behind that?