What is art? What is the meaning of art? How relevant are the arts in the modern world? As a music student, I find these questions increasingly urgent – not because I expect definitive answers, but because the way in which we engage with these questions, shapes how and why we value art in modern life.

While the significance of art is a well-established debate, following the recent publication of GCSE and A-Level results, there has been an active voice of concern for the future of the arts, particularly in schools. For example, the number of A-Level English Literature entries have fallen by just under 35% between 2013 and 2023. Having studied English Literature myself, I’m aware of the criticisms – some of them valid. I was often surprised by the traditional narratives the course promoted. Still, I’d rather wrestle with Goethe’s The Sorrows of Young Werther or Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales than grapple with Higgs Particle Theory. Surely, I’m not alone in this.

So, should we be worried about the decline of the arts in schools? I certainly think so. There are many contributing factors behind this steady decline of artistic interest: digital distractions, the rising cost of education and educational assets such as books and music lessons, in addition to lingering elitist stereotypes. But the root cause must be traced to a growing belief that school education is and should be exclusively and indissolubly tied to the job market.

“The root cause must be traced to a growing belief that school education is and should be exclusively and indissolubly tied to the job market”

Yes, education and employment are closely linked; that’s the nature of our economic system. I don’t deny that. But to relegate the arts to a status entirely disconnected from science, and therefore rendered inferior, is in my view, absurd. The popular refrains “if you want a job, go into STEM”, or “if you want to earn good money, don’t study a humanities degree”, have trickled down from higher education to schools, where, as a result of these throwaway lines, meant half in jest, we have subtly shaped how we value certain academic subjects over others. Arts and humanities subjects are increasingly pushed to the academic periphery. Think of after-school clubs: book club, drama, dance and languages were the biggest non-sport club options, at least they were in my schools. And so, the arts are deemed less useful in life and therefore considered more of a hobby or avocation. The result? A holistic education is seen as less important.

In some ways however, this imbalance is understandable: schools are under pressure to teach employable skills. Certain professions, granted often in the sciences, do offer more financial stability. Hence, if someone wants to be a vet, for example, how relevant are Keat’s poems or Proust’s novels to their career? Probably not very. The same applies to lawyers, doctors, dentists, nurses and so on. So then, what’s the point of studying something like Classics? People often ask “what are you going to be? A classicist? Seriously?”

“This imbalance is understandable; schools are under pressure to teach employable skills”

But just because arts subjects don’t ‘do what it says on the tin’, by which I mean they don’t have a clear, indisputable path headed for a career, and may have a higher likelihood of freelance work, doesn’t equate to STEM subjects being more important. Journalists, critics, and illustrators are obvious examples of arts-related professions, but let’s be honest, a world without artistic productions like TV Programmes, films, artwork, music, books would be incredibly tedious.

If you disagree, I’d suggest doing a mental spring clean. And to further this remonstration, art and science are more interwoven than many wish to believe. Once one discovers these crossovers – regardless of their size and significance – the absurdity of the seemingly antithetical treatment of these knowledge forms becomes apparent, and the artificial divide begins to dissipate.

Within my own degree, the mathematical and scientific aspects of music are very much a key part of the Tripos. One optional paper is a ‘Music and Science’ paper, which aims to explore the complexities of sound physics, including the human auditory system, neuroimaging and the psychological effects of these interactions, amongst other things. I would call this a clear connection between these artistic and scientific facets.

Additionally, those who are familiar with 20th century classical music may recognise the significance of mathematical and scientific innovation within composition. Works by Stockhausen experiment with the human voice and electronically-created sine waves, an example of uniting rationalisation and serialisation in music. The creation of modern music is thus interwoven within the scientific and technological sphere.

“If the arts are increasingly seen as optional or decorative, we risk hollowing out the very essence of what connects us as individuals”

So, when we step back, the art versus science issue extends beyond education policy and job market logic. Art and science support the different dimensions of human existence, with art often acting as a constant reminder for the reason scientific research is so important. Yet, if the arts are increasingly seen as optional or decorative, we risk hollowing out the very essence of what connects us as individuals, as cultures, and as a species. The decline in arts engagement is not just a curricular crisis; it’s a cultural and existential one.

Art is a deeply human construct. It forms the intersubjective bridge connecting ourselves with everything around us – a form of dialogue. Art is therefore the genesis of scientific discovery as it makes it human; at the end of the day, much scientific discovery is based around our desire to advance and improve our environment or knowledge of our environment, in whatever field it may be. This is why the anthropomorphic struggle with AI is so controversial: does it create a ‘perfected’ replication of ourselves, or does it threaten the fabrication of our basic human existence?

So, to demote the arts, and those who work within them, to a subsidiary position, highlights how we have reached a social period of what Rod Liddle calls the ‘Disenlightenment’: where the patience to learn, debate and formulate ideas has eroded; we view everything solely through a utilitarian lens.

After all, I don’t need to think if a robot will do it for me. But here’s the paradox: those who engage in so-called ‘important’ fields – such as surgeons, engineers and mathematicians, to name but a few – must also engage with the arts to truly understand their fields. The most effective way to learn is to read, challenge, and contextualise the art of a subject – not just its function.

But as students of arts and casual reading declines in numbers, so too do our interpretive and empathetic capacities, only making it harder to re-cultivate these skills. The result? A stagnant society. And as if that weren’t bad enough, it seems we’re doing nothing about it.