Here is why the Creative Scotland review was such a missed opportunity

But, within the arts, there’s always enormous debate – and worry - about how the ‘creative industries’ sustain themselves; huge tensions between the needs of individual creators, and the potential biases and non-artistic priorities of institutions and funders that can make or break careers.

Some of this is raised in the independent review of Creative Scotland from Angela Leitch CBE, published last week. Commissioned in late 2024 by culture secretary Angus Robertson, after a series of scandals hit the beleaguered funding body, many commentators have praised the report for not pulling any punches.

Murdo Fraser, the Scottish Conservative’s culture spokesman, slammed Mr Robertson’s complacency in his role, given the report delivers ‘a scathing verdict on the quango’s lack of transparency, poor leadership, excessive bureaucracy and a total absence of performance monitoring.’

While I don’t disagree with Mr Fraser’s assessment of the culture secretary’s failures, my overall response was feeling I’d read a different report from everyone else. While welcome in its analysis of the problems above, it didn’t reveal anything we didn’t know already. We’ve known CS is bloated and bureaucratic for years. It also failed to say a word about the biggest scandals rocking the arts world: ideological capture, and belief-discrimination in our funded arts institutions.

Why was this review called? Yes, to question CS’s decision-making processes generally. But the negative headlines CS faced last year were also very specifically about ideological bias amongst staff and projects they fund. The more I read, the report’s omission of this was increasingly frustrating. At times, it had all the depth of an ‘on the one hand this, on the other hand that,’ Modern Studies handout. However, when I reached the paragraph about how arts officers are ‘widely seen as being knowledgeable, professional, helpful and committed’ - with no counter opinion - I admit to expletives.

Here, I must declare my bias. Before I wrote columns, I’d frequently (often wearily) find myself being their subject matter. I’m one of those ‘gender-critical’ feminists, you see. When it was discovered a CS Literature Officer called at least one bookstore last summer to tick them off for stocking my non-fiction book Hounded – ironically enough, about the ill-treatment of women with those perfectly ordinary views - it hit the headlines. When said officer not only retained their post, facing zero professional consequences, it infuriated many. For my part, I was left with no assurances it wouldn’t happen again, nor any sense CS viewed it as utterly abnormal for someone tasked with supporting Scotland’s writers to do such a thing.

But more so than the antics of one officer, it was the nearly £85k of funding awarded to ‘Rein’, an immersive theatre/ dance show involving ‘non-simulated sex’ that caused uproar. It wasn’t just the funding of a live sex show that appalled, nor the vast sums awarded during a time of severe financial pressure in the arts. It was CS’s denial they’d realised the show’s quite obviously pornographic intent. Despite protestations, it was clear even at Rein’s initial research and development phase – for which director Leonie Rae Gasson had also received funding.

Ms Gasson is an experienced practitioner with a long track record working with Scottish dance organisations. Surely those scrutinising her application were familiar with her oeuvre? Did they not care? Think it acceptable? Was this language of queer theory and ‘sex positivity’ so normalised it went under their radar?

To what extent is there ideological capture at CS? It’s obvious to many that several organisations and projects they fund push queer theory and discriminate against gender critical feminists, for example. But who is leading who here? Is it CS priorities causing this, or vice-versa?

The review of CS asks none of these questions. In failing to, it can’t help but be a lost opportunity.

There’s an irony the CS report landed in the same week it was revealed there’s been yet another attempt to have the groundbreaking, ‘gender-critical’ anthology The Women Who Wouldn’t Wheesht removed from the National Library of Scotland’s Dear Library exhibition. Again, I declare self-interest: I’m one of the 34 contributors.

As highlighted by my colleague, the book’s co-editor Susan Dalgety, an Open Letter sent to the Board demands the NLS reverse their decision to include us on their shelves.

Signatories include those in receipt of CS funds, including StAnza poetry festival director Ryan Van Winkle, and Push The Boat Out programmer Catherine Wilson Garry.

It is also signed by two former CS Literature Officers. As someone who was recently heavily involved in Scotland’s creative literature sector, it’s difficult for me to ignore these things. None are household names. Their significance may be misunderstood.

Signatories include those frequently charged with judging fellow writers - for awards, funding, and programming opportunities. It’s a disastrous state of affairs to have those who’d ban books sitting in judgment of literary peers in any circumstances. It has to be called out, strongly. Trying to ban a book from a library is contemptuous behaviour.

I predict the NLS will ignore them. But the wider damage such people are causing - to individual writers and the health of Scottish literature - shouldn’t be dismissed.

The CS review was too narrow. A ‘something must be done, will this do?’ response to a serious problem. While in some respects the review ‘pulls no punches,’ the fact Angus Robertson - the man ultimately responsible for this cultural atmosphere - ‘welcomes’ it, proves none have landed where it matters.