On Being an Older Worker in the Arts

Earlier this month, Arts Professional and Baker Richards published Arts Pay Survey Report 2025 - a weighty, 174-page assessment of pay, conditions and culture across the UK arts workforce. It’s a sobering read. And for those of us who’ve recently crossed the threshold into freelance life, much of it feels uncomfortably familiar. Access the report here. Worth a read if you haven’t already.

After thirty years in organisations, leading teams and commissioning hundreds of brilliant freelancers, I thought I understood the landscape. I thought I had a fair grasp of what “good practice” looked like: paying for planning time, building in prep, not assuming availability, acknowledging expertise. But stepping into freelancing later in my career has been its own education. And one statistic leapt out at me being - can I say it - being slightly older: ‘Over 40% of older respondents reported feeling undervalued’.

Not unheard of. But seeing it written down, set against broader findings on class, gender and identity bias, is tough to hear. In another line in the report, a worker reports: “After 30 years in the arts, I feel invisible”. Crikey. That feeling that your experience is somehow “past its sell-by date” isn’t theoretical, it’s visible, creeping gently at the edges of conversations – hardly visible but nibbling away.

The report reminds us that age bias doesn’t stand alone; it compounds. Older women, older freelancers, older working-class practitioners are consistently facing additional barriers to new contracts, leadership pathways and even being perceived as “current”. And yet - and this really matters - retaining and working with experienced permanent or freelance professionals is critical to cultural continuity. Experience isn’t an obstacle. It’s the very substance that keeps sectors upright when systems wobble.

The report paints a picture that is both stark and sadly unsurprising:

• 70% of full-time workers report excessive hours.

• 67% have undertaken unpaid work.

• The median freelance income sits around £28k - with chronic late payment as standard.

• Burnout is normalised; boundaries are rare.

• Many workers “code-switch” to fit in professionally.

Some of these patterns I knew from the employer side. But living them as a freelancer - at a stage of life where stability, clarity and respect become non-negotiables - is a very different experience. The sense of being “assessed for relevance” lands differently when you’ve stewarded entire programmes and careers.

And yet, the sector is full of extraordinary contracted and freelancer workers - creative, resilient, funny, principled people who continue to make things happen despite the system. And that resilience is real.

So, what do we do with this? There have been a lot of people talking on socials about the report, but I think it worth just putting some of the recommendations out there again. Clarity and transparency aren’t luxuries - they’re foundations. Pay bands published up front. Clear scopes. Written agreements before work begins. Progression routes that don’t stop at 35 - mentoring, shadowing and leadership pipelines that include freelancers, not just staff. Cultural change around overwork – so leadership modelling boundaries, and not just talking about them.

But I’m also reflecting on what we, as individuals and freelancers, can do…. Namely stopping the apology reflex and find likeminded peers who can act as our anchor points, especially when confidence gets shaken.

Because for all the challenges, I don’t want to step back. In fact, this new work phase has reminded me how much I still want to contribute - and how much experience can offer when it’s invited in with intention…. So, if this resonates, and you are working in education, policy or the arts and any of this strikes a chord - whether you’re rethinking how to support freelancers, trying to build healthier workplace cultures or simply navigating the shifting ground yourself – let’s talk.

The arts can do better than “precarity by design”. And many of us, especially those with a few decades under our belts, have a lot still to give, and learn of course….

Until next time.