Compared to 2019, the Tate galleries in London are seeing ~2.2 million fewer visitors, representing an approximately 27% decline in patronage. Much of this is coming from a decline in international/European visitors. They're at 61% of pre-COVID levels, whereas domestic visitors are at 95%.
One of the biggest groups to fall off has been young visitors (aged 16-24) from the EU. Between 2019-2020, the Tate Modern alone welcomed 609,000 people from this segment. By 2023-2024, this had dropped to 357,000 and it remains depressed.
So now the Tate is cutting its staff and blaming two macro changes: the pandemic and Brexit. Though some people are arguing that it's really because the programming has been too woke and stuff.
In my mind, the Brexit excuse makes the most sense because it has clearly created additional friction. If you're a school traveller in France and want to visit the UK, you now need to complete a school trip information form (I'm assuming this wasn't the case before).
And if you're a student from any another country, you need a passport. In some cases you may also need a visa. So it makes sense that schools and teachers might say, "yeah, let's make our lives easier and just stay within the EU."
Based on a very cursory review of how other cultural institutions are doing, this possibly checks out. In 2019, the Centre Pompidou in Paris welcomed over 3.2 million visitors and in 2024 it welcomed 3.2 million visitors. In 2019, the musée d'Orsay and the musée de l'Orangerie welcomed over 4.6 million visitors, and by 2023, this number had jumped to over 5.1 million.
Could it simply be better programming? Yes, of course. But it's hard to argue that erecting barriers to become more closed off from the rest of the world, won't, you know, make you more closed off from the rest of the world. Here we're just talking about one cultural institution in the UK. But the lesson scales.
I'm thinking of you right now, America.
Here is an excerpt from a Guardian article that was published last year (by Tim Burrows) about Grimsby, England:
In Grimsby’s 1930s heyday, fishermen used to head to Freeman Street as soon as they were off the trawler, straight to the Lincoln or the Corporation Arms to spend their bountiful earnings. A century previously, Grimsby had been a fairly sleepy fishing village, but by the 1890s it was on the way to becoming the biggest fishing port in the world. In the mid 20th-century, trawlers were bringing in 500 tonnes of fish a day.
Today, Grimsby still has a thriving indoor market (paid for by the EU and the Enrolled Freemen of Grimsby, an organisation that dates back to the 13th century), but the further north towards the docks you walk, the emptier and more dilapidated things get. A local businessman says sex workers wait around at night for lorries to take them to the deserted docks. “It’s a legacy of the old fishing days.”
There is scant legacy to be found elsewhere. After a long decline, the fishing industry died in the mid 1980s, its owners selling their trawlers to companies in Aberdeen or Japan. Unlike Hull across the river, currently basking in its year as Capital of Culture, Grimsby is the Humber city that never was.
More than 70% of people in Grimsby, England voted to leave the European Union in the 2016 "Brexit" referendum. It was one of the highest shares in the country. But with one of the highest unemployment rates in the country, that outcome is not all that surprising.
Supposedly, at its peak, there were eight onshore jobs for every one at sea in Grimsby. And like all thriving cities, there were economies of agglomeration, which resulted in things like the largest ice factory in the world. The fishing fleets needed crushed ice -- and lots of it.
The Grimsby story is, of course, not a unique one. You just have to replace fishing with some other industry. Many cities have managed to diversify their economies either out of necessity or because they saw the writing on the wall. But for others it has been a real struggle.
It's one of those things that is perhaps simple, but far from easy.
I just received the September issue of Monocle magazine. One of the features I always read is the “Observation” on the very last page. It reads as the editor in chief’s personal blog.
In this issue he talks about the recent EU referendum and the changes he is making to his business in response to that. Monocle is headquartered in London, but he is now finding it challenging to be “an international media business in a country that hasn’t figured out how it’s going to move forward.”
His response?
They are shoring up the Zürich office. They are looking at the possibility of a second bureau somewhere on the continent. And they are similarly looking to increase staff in both Toronto and Singapore.
When one place closes up, the companies and talent will find other cities that are open for business.
As someone who is closing one chapter this week and starting a new one, Tyler Brûlé’s Observation also reminded me of the importance of change. Oftentimes change feels uncomfortable. But that’s not necessarily a bad thing. In fact, it’s more likely a sign that you’re on to something.
What have you done lately that made you feel uncomfortable?