The question is not whether we can afford to invest in culture. The question is whether we can afford not to.

Statements often reveal more about the speaker than the reality they describe. On March 13, Minister of Cultures Francisco Undurraga justified a 3% budget cut ordered by the Treasury with a phrase that deserves scrutiny: "There is excessive spending on culture here." The budget he was referring to: 549 billion pesos, equivalent to 0.6% of national public spending. That is the figure the new government considers excessive.

The 0.6% figure is the ceiling the 2026 budget managed to reach after years of steady increases, starting from 0.3% in 2022. The committed goal was 1%—a standard that places Chile at the very bottom of Latin America, according to comparative studies by the Library of the National Congress based on ECLAC figures. To call that progress "excessive" is, at the very least, disproportionate.

Furthermore, the argument contains an internal contradiction: if the stated problem is that "artists saw none of those benefits," the logical response is to improve distribution, not to cut. Cutting back on a poorly distributed investment does not fix the flaw; it consolidates it.

But there is something else omitted from this debate. Culture is not just a budget line item: it is a strategic asset. For instance, last year, Qatar chose Chile as its Latin American partner for the bilateral Year of Culture. That program generated over 430 national press mentions, 51 international B2B business meetings, and more than 10 ongoing cooperation agreements, according to Trama Cultura’s 2025 YoC Chile Report. That is not an expense: it is a return on investment.

Cutting culture in 2026 is also making the wrong decision at the wrong time. The world simultaneously faces a crisis of human identity against automation, rising violence, steadily declining mental health rates, and a search for meaning that no algorithm can resolve. In 2019, the WHO published a report reviewing over 3,000 scientific studies, concluding that participation in artistic and cultural activities reduces stress and anxiety, prevents mental illness, improves resilience, and strengthens social cohesion. These are not metaphors: they are measurable results.

While the new government looks backward to cut, the world looks forward to invest. According to UNCTAD’s Creative Economy Outlook 2024, exports of creative services grew by 29% between 2017 and 2022, reaching $1.4 trillion. In 2021, the UN General Assembly declared the International Year of Creative Economy for Sustainable Development, formally recognizing creative industries as key sectors for the 2030 Agenda. UNESCO estimates that the cultural sector generates $2.25 trillion annually and employs more young people aged 18 to 25 than any other sector in the world. And unlike copper, lithium, or gas, creativity does not run out. It does not destroy ecosystems. It does not depend on the price of a barrel of oil. It is the only resource that multiplies when shared.

To say that 0.6% is excessive implies viewing the Museum of Fine Arts, GAM, MAC, or the Centro Cultural La Moneda not as institutions serving millions, but as expendable expenses. It implies closing the door on emerging artists whose only safety net is state grants. It implies gambling that Chile can remain relevant in the 21st century without betting on its own image.

A country that abandons its cultural ecosystem does not save; it squanders. It squanders symbolic capital, social capital, and—in strictly economic terms—one of the sectors with the greatest growth potential in the knowledge economy. Chile has the conditions to lead this process in the region: talent, heritage, institutions, history. What is missing is a government that understands that culture is not an ornament. It is education. It is strategy. It is health. It is the future.

The question is not whether we can afford to invest in culture. The question is whether we can afford not to.

We are not asking for privileges. We are asking for consistency. And we ask that before cutting, the numbers be read with honesty: 0.6% is not excessive. It is, barely, the floor from which we can finally begin to build.