Why I Refuse to Become Another Statistic: The Harsh Reality of Being an Artist in Australia
The numbers don't lie, but they don't define us either.
When I first read Creative Australia's 2023-24 annual report, I had to put it down and take a deep breath. Not because the statistics were surprising – if you're an artist in Australia, you're living these realities every day – but because seeing them laid out in black and white, backed by government research, made the struggle feel both validated and overwhelming.
The average professional artist in Australia earns $23,200 a year. Let that sink in for a moment.
That's not just below the poverty line – that's literally half the minimum wage. Half. The government has documented that pursuing your passion, creating beauty, contributing to culture, and enriching society pays you half of what someone working minimum wage earns.
But here's what hit me even harder: this is the seventh time they've studied our economic conditions. Seven iterations of research documenting our struggles. Seven reports showing that being an artist in Australia means choosing financial hardship. Seven studies proving that the phrase "starving artist" isn't just a romantic notion – it's a documented reality backed by government data.
The Statistics That Keep Me Up at Night
The Creative Australia report doesn't just talk about income. It paints a picture of an industry in crisis, and frankly, it's a picture I recognise all too well.
Nearly half of us – 50% of professional artists – have participated in unpaid work. Think about that. Imagine if half of all lawyers, doctors, or accountants were expected to work for free regularly. There would be outrage. But for artists? It's just Tuesday.
The stress levels are through the roof. Sixty-three percent of artists report feeling very or moderately stressed. When you're constantly worried about paying rent, buying groceries, or affording basic healthcare while trying to create meaningful work, stress becomes your constant companion. It's the unwelcome third party in every creative decision you make.
The report mentions that many artists are abandoning the sector altogether due to unstable employment, below-average salaries, and lack of support. Every time I read about another talented friend leaving the arts to pursue "something more stable," I feel a piece of our cultural landscape disappearing.
When the Government Has to Step In
What really struck me was learning about Creative Workplaces – a program Creative Australia established specifically to promote fair, safe, and respectful workplaces for artists and creative workers. The fact that this program needed to exist at all speaks volumes about the state of our industry.
Think about it: the situation became so dire that the government had to create an entire initiative just to ensure artists are treated with basic human dignity. They had to establish guidelines for fair treatment because exploitation had become so normalised in our industry that intervention was necessary.
Creative Australia also partnered with Support Act, a charity that helps entertainment industry workers in crisis. The very existence of this partnership acknowledges that our industry produces so much financial and mental health distress that specialised crisis support is required.
These aren't just statistics to me.
They're a mirror reflecting the reality I've lived, the struggles I've witnessed, and the system I've been navigating for years.
The Post-COVID Reality
The report also highlights something many of us have felt but perhaps couldn't quantify: the lasting impact of the pandemic on our industry. Attendance at arts and cultural events hasn't returned to pre-pandemic levels. Barriers are preventing Australians from engaging with arts and culture as frequently as they once did.
For artists, this translates to smaller audiences, reduced income opportunities, and an even more challenging environment to build sustainable careers. The pandemic didn't just pause our industry – it fundamentally changed it, and we're still grappling with the aftermath.
Why I'm Sharing This
You might wonder why I'm putting these sobering statistics out there. Why highlight the struggles? Why potentially discourage people from supporting the arts or pursuing creative careers?
Because silence hasn't served us well.
For too long, we've romanticised the "struggling artist" narrative. We've accepted that financial hardship is the price of creative authenticity. We've normalized working for exposure, undervaluing our skills, and apologising for asking to be paid fairly for our work.
But here's the thing: acknowledging the problem is the first step toward changing it.
When I see these statistics, I don't see defeat. I see a challenge. I see an opportunity to be part of the generation that rewrites these numbers. I see a chance to prove that artists can be both creatively fulfilled and financially stable.
My Refusal
I refuse to become another statistic in Creative Australia's next report.
I refuse to accept that earning half the minimum wage is the price of pursuing my passion.
I refuse to work for free and call it "building my portfolio."
I refuse to apologise for valuing my time, skills, and creativity.
I refuse to let financial stress compromise the quality of my work or my mental health.
I refuse to abandon my craft because the system is broken.
Most importantly, I refuse to stay silent about these issues.
What This Means for My Practice
This refusal isn't just philosophical – it's practical. It means setting boundaries around my work and pricing. It means being transparent about the value I provide and the costs involved in creating quality art. It means building a sustainable practice that allows me to create consistently without sacrificing my wellbeing.
It means treating my art as both a passion and a profession, because it's possible to be both deeply creative and financially responsible.
It means seeking out and supporting other artists who are committed to changing these statistics rather than perpetuating them.
How You Can Help
If these statistics concern you as much as they concern me, there are concrete ways you can help artists in your community rewrite this narrative:
Value artistic work appropriately. When you commission work, buy art, or hire creative services, understand that fair pricing isn't greed – it's survival.
Share and promote artists' work. In our digital age, visibility is currency. Your shares, likes, and recommendations have real economic impact.
Attend arts events and exhibitions. Your presence and participation help create the demand that sustains artistic careers.
Advocate for better arts funding and policy. These statistics exist partly because of systemic underfunding and undervaluing of the arts at policy levels.
Support artists directly. Whether through purchasing work, subscribing to content, or contributing to crowdfunding campaigns, direct support makes an immediate difference.
The Bigger Picture
These statistics aren't just about individual artists struggling to make ends meet. They represent a cultural crisis. When a society systematically undervalues its artists, it undervalues creativity, innovation, and cultural expression.
The arts don't just entertain – they challenge, inspire, document, and transform. They're essential to a healthy society. But if we continue to treat artists as expendable, if we continue to expect them to subsidize our cultural life with their financial wellbeing, we'll lose more than just individual careers. We'll lose the diverse voices and perspectives that make our cultural landscape rich and meaningful.
Looking Forward
Creative Australia's next report will be published in a few years. When it is, I want to be part of a different story. I want to be among the artists who proved that it's possible to build sustainable creative careers in Australia. I want to contribute to statistics that show improvement rather than continued decline.
This isn't naive optimism – it's determined realism. The challenges are real, documented, and significant. But they're not insurmountable. Change happens when enough people decide that the status quo is unacceptable and commit to doing something about it.
I'm committed to being part of that change. I'm committed to building a practice that proves these statistics don't have to be destiny. I'm committed to supporting other artists who are making the same commitment.
Join the Movement
If you've made it this far, you clearly care about these issues. Whether you're an artist yourself, someone who values the arts, or simply someone who believes in fair treatment for all workers, you can be part of changing these statistics.
Follow my journey as I work to build a sustainable artistic practice. Share this post with others who might care about these issues. Support artists in your community who are committed to changing the narrative.
Together, we can ensure that Creative Australia's next report tells a different story – one where artists are valued, supported, and able to thrive both creatively and financially.
Because at the end of the day, we all become statistics. The question is: which ones will we choose to be?
Want to support an artist who refuses to become another statistic?
Explore my work, commission a piece, come to one of my classes or follow my journey as I work to prove that sustainable artistic careers are possible in Australia.
—
My first act of protest against these statistics?
I turned the struggle into art.
Instead of letting the financial reality of being an artist crush my spirit, I created something that transforms our shared pain into shared laughter.
Because if the system expects us to be broke, we might as well be brilliantly, creatively, unapologetically broke - and make something beautiful out of it.
Because retail therapy is too expensive
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