Do Schools Kill Creativity?

In 2006, Sir Ken Robinson delivered a TED Talk that would become one of the most watched of all time: Do Schools Kill Creativity? His message was simple, and nearly twenty years later, it still rings uncomfortably true:

“We don’t grow into creativity; we grow out of it. Or rather, we get educated out of it.”

I first heard the talk in 2010, during one of my earliest classes at art school. It was introduced by a professor, and the moment has stayed with me ever since. I gather I felt exactly how my professor had intended; profoundly lucky to be there, realising how easily my path could have been different had parental or academic pressure pushed me in another direction—the very dilemma Robinson warned us against. More than that, I felt I had arrived somewhere I truly belonged.

Nearly two decades have passed since Robinson posed his question, yet schools across the world still treat creativity as something conditional: something we add if there is time, if the budget allows, if academic performance targets have already been met. Rarely is it treated as a legitimate career path. While the severity of this differs across continents, the pattern itself is remarkably consistent. Having been raised and educated in the UK and Europe, studied under the American system in Canada, lived and taught the arts in Asia and Africa, and taught remotely to high school students in the United States, I have seen first-hand how often the arts are sidelined as a viable future.

Lessons from India

I have recently returned from India, where my partner and I ran a series of arts workshops in Bhubaneswar, a city where extracurricular activities, particularly creative ones, are not the norm. The school we worked with, Cohen International, is notably forward-thinking in its desire to expose students to the arts, which in itself is rare. As a result, the children were eager to explore, to draw, to express themselves, and to encounter new ways of thinking.

Reflecting on it now, leaving the school in India brought a mix of emotions. While the children were genuinely engaged and a few even reached out afterwards for guidance on pursuing the arts further, the majority made it clear that they already believed the arts were not something they would ever pursue professionally. They participated enthusiastically, yet with a quiet resignation. The workshops themselves were intentionally broad, combining short bursts of creative exploration with discussion. The purpose was to open their eyes to the breadth of possibilities in the arts, encompassing not only drawing and painting but also design, fashion, architecture, film, and more.

We discussed the relationship between design and utility, and how creativity shapes everyday life: the homes we live in, the furniture we use, the clothes we wear, the information we consume. We also talked about differences in how people think and process the world, and about individual strengths. We cannot all become doctors or engineers. Nor should we. What about those who see the world through a different lens? If we had truly taken Robinson’s words to heart, we would recognise by now how harmful it is to individuals and to society, to encourage vast numbers of children to pursue identical academic paths when their genuine strengths lie elsewhere.

What I heard from the children in India went further. Many spoke as though engaging in the arts at all, even if merely for enjoyment was discouraged by their parents and teachers. I felt compelled to tell them that I was not necessarily suggesting they pursue art as a career, but simply urging them not to lose something fundamentally tied to their well-being. When creativity is denied, society is not only robbed of talent; individuals may never discover what they are capable of. Some may spend their lives feeling mediocre, not because they lack ability, but because they were never given the chance to explore what they excel at. Imagine a society filled with half-engaged, half-fulfilled, half-awake individuals. Perhaps that is not a hypothetical future, but the one we already inhabit. Because the arts existed in such a contradiction at Cohen, with teachers strongly wanting their students to be exposed to the arts, yet simultaneously discouraging engagement at any deeper level beyond a workshop or two, I felt concerned that the workshops would fall on deaf ears.

Returning to the UK, I wondered if here the workshops might land differently, if students might be more open to exploring the possibilities I had once longed to hear about, years before beginning my own arts education. I shared the idea of offering similar workshops in Scottish schools with friends and professionals who work in education. The conversations so far, however, have quickly shifted to a familiar frustration: budgets are tight, and the arts are often the first thing to go.

How has something so fundamental to human development, identity, and cultural life become so persistently undervalued?

Creativity Needs No Permission

The children in India were not asking for permission to be creative. They were waiting for adults to stop restricting it. They became animated during the sessions and seemed to agree that the arts were fundamental for them even though they have been told not to pursue them. They collaborated, questioned, experimented. They were curious, fearless, and ready to absorb.

The Same Story

Back in the UK, conversations with educators echoed the same refrain: creative subjects squeezed, teachers overstretched, and a curriculum that still places literacy and numeracy at the top of a rigid hierarchy. Art, music, drama, and design technology remain “nice extras”—misunderstood, undervalued, and quietly disappearing.

This neglect extends beyond compulsory education. When I recently enquired about pursuing a PhD at the Glasgow School of Art, I was literally advised not to bother as there was no funding left for the arts. It seems at every level, investment in the arts is evaporating. The message is clear: we value productivity over imagination, outcomes over exploration, and what can be measured over what is meaningful.

A Fundamental Misunderstanding

At the heart of this issue lies a profound misconception of what art actually is. Somewhere along the way, it became flattened into a hobby, a luxury, or a pursuit reserved for the gifted few. In reality, the arts permeate every aspect of daily life: the design of the objects we use, the buildings we enter, the books we read, the films we watch, the music that shifts our mood in seconds, the clothes we wear, the technologies we depend on. Creativity is not peripheral—it is the infrastructure of human expression. As Robinson argued, creativity is as important as literacy. Yet our systems continue to resist this truth.

What We Lose When Creativity Is Undervalued

When creativity is stripped from education, we lose far more than paintings on fridges. We lose curiosity, empathy, critical thinking, and the ability to imagine alternatives. We produce adults who can maintain systems but struggle to reimagine them. All of this is done in the name of efficiency: saving money, raising test scores, preparing children for the future. Ironically, it is the very skills fostered by the arts that the future will demand most.

Why This Matters Now

We are entering a world shaped by artificial intelligence, automation, environmental crisis, and cultural upheaval. The skills required, adaptability, creativity, empathy, communication, and design thinking are not optional. They are essential. And the arts remain one of the most powerful training grounds for developing them.

Where Do We Go From Here?

We must reframe the conversation. The arts do not need defending as a luxury; they must be recognised as foundational. This means funding them properly, embedding them meaningfully in education, and refusing the narrative that creativity is expendable. This responsibility belongs to educators, policymakers, parents, artists, and institutions alike. It begins with a simple but radical insistence: this matters. Because if we want a future worth living in, we need imagination. If we want innovation, we need play. If we want empathy, we need stories. If we want humanity, we need the arts. The real question is not whether we can afford to invest in creativity—but whether we can afford not to.

If we want to protect the arts, one of the most meaningful actions we can take is to help more creative people get through the doors of the institutions that shape our cultural future. I’ve created a free guide for anyone thinking about art school, whether you’re a student, a parent, or someone returning to study after years away.

Free Resource: Applying to Art Schools in the UK: A Complete Guide
Real guidance. Real steps. No gatekeeping.