Creative Economy: Who Creates the Value, and Who Gets Paid?

Prepared by ArchUp Research Lab

At the edge of the wooden base in the accompanying photograph, a thin strip extends over the carpet. The image records a material detail, not its cause, cost or condition history. We use it as a starting point for an economic question: what happens to the value of design after an object has been made, presented and put into use? The creative economy includes the decisions, labour and responsibilities surrounding that object, not only its finished appearance.

When the event ends and the invoice begins

Imagine a hypothetical scene with familiar ingredients. A carefully designed venue, a screen announcing creativity, a young designer presenting a project, and an institution promising to support talent. The day ends with a group photograph and an attendance report. The next morning, the designer returns to a studio with rent to pay, a prototype to finish and an unpaid invoice to pursue. Did the programme create access to a client? Did the designer retain ownership of the work? Was anything learned that can be applied? Has the capacity to keep working improved?

These questions bring the discussion to the creative economy. Economy requires attention to production, cost, contracts, income and the distribution of value. Creative requires attention to knowledge, imagination, skill, experimentation and difference. Celebrating talent is only part of the task. Turning culture into merchandise is an equally incomplete account. The larger question concerns the conditions under which people can make valuable work and retain a fair capacity to continue making it.

Our argument is that a creative institution should be assessed through what it adds to practitioners’ ability to work, negotiate, learn and reach markets. An event may contribute to that purpose, but its image cannot establish its impact. The more demanding test concerns what participants retain after the event ends and its accounts are closed.

From individual capability to an economic system

The research connects creativity development, knowledge sharing within teams, constraints facing small creative businesses and AI governance. These themes converge on one question: how can the capacity to innovate become sustained work and fairly distributed value?

We distinguish reported findings, our interpretation and proposals requiring evaluation. Financial examples and design scenarios are hypothetical. International comparisons help construct questions; they do not establish that different countries share the same causes of success or failure.

Defining the creative economy before measuring it

UNCTAD includes architecture, design, arts, crafts, advertising, fashion and publishing among creative activities, while recognising evolving definitions and statistical frameworks. [1] A report should therefore explain what it counts before presenting an impressive total. Does it measure whole industries, creative occupations across industries, or trade in particular products and services?

Our working definition describes the creative economy as the organisation of knowledge, skill, imagination and cultural expression into works, services and experiences, together with the rules governing their finance, ownership, circulation and remuneration. It places the architect, designer, editor and craftsperson in relationships with clients, suppliers, platforms, institutions and law. Individual talent remains important, but it operates within those relationships.

Four levels deserve separate attention: an individual’s capacity to develop an idea, a team’s capacity to improve it, a business’s capacity to sell and deliver it, and society’s capacity to retain economic and cultural value from it. Progress at one level does not establish progress at all four. Better creative performance may coexist with low income. A commercially successful business may still exhaust the people who work within it.

Creativity can be trained; a market needs more

Scott, Leritz and Mumford’s quantitative review of seventy earlier studies found performance gains from well designed creativity training. More successful programmes tended to develop cognitive skills through realistic exercises relevant to the domain. [2] This supports investment in development. It does not establish that every creativity workshop is effective or that improvement on a test produces higher earnings.

An architectural exercise might begin by reframing a problem. Instead of asking how to make a reception area spectacular, participants could ask why visitors become lost, where staff must pause and what changes when demand rises. They could generate alternatives, compare them and test selected proposals. This is our application of the general principle, not a protocol validated by that review.

Participants subsequently need paid time to apply what they learn, appropriate supervision, a client willing to support testing and a way to price the work. A certificate may record attendance without establishing any of these conditions. Evaluation should distinguish acquiring a skill, applying it, obtaining work and sustaining that work. Each stage needs its own evidence.

Repetition can produce more of the familiar

Brucks and Huang report different effects of repeated practice across creative tasks: gains in convergent performance, but mixed divergent outcomes, including reduced average novelty in parts of their research. [3] The bounded implication is that repetition alone does not guarantee renewal. It does not follow that practice is useless or expertise generally obstructs creativity.

For a studio, this suggests varying the problem and the method of review. Producing many facades for the same brief may improve speed while leaving assumptions untouched. Looking at use, changing the question or comparing a material intervention with an operational change may open another route to learning. Such proposals need evaluation in their own settings rather than promotion as guaranteed formulas.

Neuroscience does not provide an economic shortcut either. Sun and colleagues reported behavioural and neural changes following divergent thinking training. [4] Those findings concern a particular experimental context. They do not establish that a commercial course will increase architectural fees or create employment. Evidence is strongest when its interpretation remains close to what was actually measured.

Shared knowledge needs someone able to use it

Carmeli, Gelbard and Reiter-Palmon connect supportive leadership, knowledge sharing and creative problem solving, with a more complex pattern than one simple causal chain. [5] Their findings support attention to working conditions. They do not show that more meetings, messages or shared folders automatically produce more creativity.

Consider a studio with a large archive of construction details. Its value depends on understanding why a detail worked in one project and failed in another. A drawing without information about climate, materials, suppliers or site observations may preserve a shape while losing the knowledge behind it. Useful documentation transfers the reasoning, including limitations and mistakes, rather than only the finished image.

Sharing also takes time. When employees are expected to train colleagues outside working hours while being assessed only on individual output, collaboration becomes a personal cost. We propose recognising knowledge transfer in workload and attribution. An institution cannot reasonably expect a culture of exchange while its incentives consistently penalise those who contribute to it.

Sharing does not require surrendering rights

Explaining a general method, discussing practical experience, releasing confidential client files and transferring rights to exploit a design are different acts. Confusing them can damage collaboration. Teams need to know what may circulate, under whose permission and for which purpose. Trust benefits from understandable boundaries.

The language of creative community should also be examined when a programme requests usable work without payment. If participants produce something with commercial potential, the programme should explain ownership, compensation and the treatment of unsuccessful submissions. Supporting knowledge exchange and purchasing creative labour are compatible responsibilities. Treating remuneration as the opposite of passion allows passion to become a continuing source of unpaid production.

Small businesses live between the idea and the payment

An important analytical vulnerability lies in the interval between starting work and receiving payment. A practitioner needs time and may also need materials, specialist input or a prototype. Decisions can be delayed and scope can change. A project may look profitable while its payment cycle leaves the business unable to meet wages or rent.

Support should therefore begin by diagnosing the constraint. Someone seeking a first client needs more than finance. A business with confirmed orders and overdue receivables may need something other than another ideation workshop. A physical product involves testing, suppliers and storage; a service may depend on an agreed scope and approval process. The category creative business should help identify these differences rather than conceal them.

Indonesia: changing a label does not change an institution

Fahmi, McCann and Koster found differences in the interpretation of creative economy policy across the Indonesian cities they studied. They highlighted academic and community involvement in Bandung, while describing cases elsewhere in which the concept helped relabel established activities. [6] This is a situated historical comparison, not a permanent ranking of cities or a current verdict on Indonesia as a whole.

The distinction should not become a hierarchy that dismisses crafts or heritage. A craft practice can innovate through materials, organisation or use; a digital business can repeat familiar products. The question is what changed, who benefited and how that can be established. Preserving a living tradition is a legitimate cultural objective even when it produces no invention. Evaluation should identify that purpose honestly.

For institutions adopting the term creative economy, we propose examining their instruments. Have contracts changed? Have application and purchasing processes become more accessible? Are services adapted to small businesses? Or do the same procedures continue under a new programme name? These questions need local evidence, but they prevent an expansive concept from replacing an account of actual work.

Architecture produces work and the places where work happens

Architecture participates through intellectual labour, coordination and judgment. It also creates the environments used by other creative occupations. Studios, theatres, galleries and furniture workshops depend on rent, equipment, access and storage. A district’s creative appearance cannot establish that it accommodates the activities named in its branding.

The entire cost of a building should not automatically be counted as economic value produced or retained by its architect. Analysis needs to distinguish design fees, construction expenditure, land value and operating returns. A cultural image might increase property value without improving designers’ earnings or workshops’ ability to remain. This is a possibility to investigate, not a finding about a particular development.

Design also affects how resources are used. Repairable furniture, reusable exhibition structures and products suited to efficient manufacture connect ideas with supply chains and material consequences. Environmental claims nevertheless need evidence about materials, lifespan, replacement and transport. A product is not demonstrably sustainable simply because it is local, handmade or creative.

A creative district needs an affordable workshop

In a hypothetical district brief, a loading area may matter more to a furniture maker than a generous lobby. Acoustic separation may matter more to a recording studio than a glass facade. A fashion practitioner may need fitting and storage space rather than an open desk. Design should begin with activities and then establish which facilities can be shared and which need privacy.

Frequent social contact does not itself prove productive exchange. Work sometimes requires encounter and sometimes concentration or protection of sensitive material. We propose a range of spaces with clear prices and operating rules, accompanied by monitoring of business continuity. If rents rise and the workshops that gave a place its character leave, visitor growth alone is insufficient evidence of success as a production environment.

From contract value to the amount a practitioner retains

Consider a hypothetical contract worth 100,000 monetary units. A studio pays 30,000 to specialists, 20,000 for prototypes and production, and allocates 10,000 to operating costs. The remaining 40,000 precedes tax, financing and any costs omitted from the calculation, including the founder’s labour if not already accounted for.

The contract value is revenue. The remainder is not automatically net profit. If payment arrives after suppliers must be paid, a financing need also appears. A support programme should therefore distinguish signed work, money actually received and the amount retained after relevant costs. Announcing the value of opportunities without that distinction can produce a persuasive total while concealing severe cash pressure.

Procurement is also creative policy

A supporting institution may itself be an important prospective client. Its purchasing practices consequently form part of its impact: scope clarity, payment for substantial proposal development, approval stages, payment times, usage rights and the treatment of revisions. These details rarely dominate event photography, but they influence whether a working relationship can continue.

An institution should examine the labour required before selection. Does it ask several teams to produce nearly complete work while paying only one? Could it assess relevant experience first, or remunerate a defined development stage? Competitions are not inherently exploitative, but their costs to participants should be visible. A market building institution must examine its conduct as a buyer as well as its language as a sponsor.

Choose finance according to the need

A grant, loan, purchase and investment solve different problems. A grant may suit an early investigation with uncertain commercial potential. Confirmed demand may create a working capital need. In another case, a clearly scoped trial purchase may be more useful than either. Calling all of these support does little to establish which instrument fits.

Support should not automatically push a business to expand before its demand, quality and supply arrangements are stable. A small workshop can produce excellent work at a limited scale. Evaluation should consider its ability to meet obligations rather than headcount alone. It should also distinguish commercially oriented activity from work serving a public cultural purpose that needs sustained, openly justified funding.

Intellectual property: who may use the work later?

A contractual relationship should identify what transfers to the client, what remains with the maker, and the scope of modification, reuse and attribution. Applicable law varies by jurisdiction, work and agreement, so no single clause can be offered as a universal legal answer. The economic question remains straightforward: do both parties understand what was purchased?

For architects and designers, accumulated methods and technical knowledge may be more significant than one final file. An unnecessarily broad transfer could limit a studio’s later use of its experience, while the client legitimately needs sufficient rights to use the commissioned work. Clearly defining the exchange protects collaboration and investment on both sides.

AI changes the allocation of time and returns

Reducing the cost of producing an image or draft does not necessarily reduce every task required for responsible delivery. Problem definition, selection, verification, coordination and accountability remain. Their share of the work may change. A tool should therefore be assessed across the complete process rather than through the speed of its first impressive result.

If time is saved, who receives the benefit? A studio may retain a larger margin, lower a price, accept more revisions or reinvest time in testing. These are possible outcomes shaped by bargaining and work organisation. Increased productivity does not automatically become an equivalent increase in the worker’s income.

Training also requires attention. If routine early tasks are automated, how will a newcomer learn the reasons behind decisions? We propose retaining deliberate review of assumptions and errors within the learning process. This is an educational recommendation, not evidence that every use of AI causes deskilling. The issue is how responsibility for judgment is developed alongside tool use.

Europe and Brazil: distinguish law from a proposal

It is no longer accurate to describe the EU AI Act simply as the 2021 proposal. The Commission identifies obligations for providers of general purpose AI models including a copyright compliance policy and a public summary of training content, with application and transition dates depending on the case. [7] These requirements do not automatically compensate every creator or settle every copyright dispute.

On 12 November 2026, Brazil’s Chamber of Deputies record showed Bill 2338/2023 awaiting the rapporteur’s opinion in the special committee. [8] We therefore treat it as a proposal under consideration rather than presenting proposed provisions as rights already in force. Comparing instruments at different legislative stages also cannot establish which regime performs better in practice.

The institutional lesson is that a regulatory text does not complete implementation. Practitioners need to understand rights, evidence and the cost of asserting a claim. Organisations need clear procedures for tools and content. The distance between an announced principle and its practical availability affects who can benefit from technology and who bears its risks.

Cultural value cannot be reduced to sales

An archive, craft practice or educational programme may deserve support because it preserves and makes knowledge available, even without commercial profit. A financial return need not be invented for every worthwhile activity. Its purpose, expected public benefit and evaluation method should nevertheless be explicit. Cultural value should not become a phrase that exempts all programmes from scrutiny.

Conversely, commercial success does not establish fair distribution. A product may earn substantial revenue while its originator remains uncredited or has little bargaining power. Cultural value, commercial returns, working conditions and rights are related but separate dimensions. They may improve together; that relationship should be examined rather than assumed.

How should a creative institution be assessed?

We propose a framework that connects activities with outcomes and publishes definitions and follow up periods. These are evaluative suggestions, not a standardised instrument validated for every organisation.

Every indicator needs a clear denominator. A percentage obtaining contracts is difficult to interpret without knowing who participated, who was followed and who could not be contacted. Revenue flowing from a programme through a studio to a supplier should not be repeatedly counted as independent new value. Transparent accounting is part of an honest narrative.

Did the programme cause the result?

Someone who obtains work after participating might have obtained it anyway. A celebratory survey cannot resolve that causal question. Evaluation can improve through baseline information, later follow up, suitable comparison groups where feasible and explicit discussion of limitations. These measures do not automatically constitute a controlled experiment, but they reduce the leap from sequence to causation.

Those who withdraw or do not succeed also matter. A programme may suit people who already have connections, available time and initial resources while remaining inaccessible to others. Omitting that difference makes outcomes look more inclusive than they are. An institution need not claim to reach everyone, but should identify whom it serves and whom it has yet to serve.

A practical programme connecting contracts and learning

The framework could be tested through a small programme with a defined group of practitioners, documented needs, training linked to a paid commission and subsequent review of delivery, payment and reuse. Purpose, budget and ownership conditions would be declared at the start. Change would be measured at completion and after a stated interval. We propose no magical duration or predetermined success rate.

In a hypothetical interior project, an emerging team could reorganise a real space under a limited, paid brief with user feedback. The team would record decisions, review construction and maintenance, and receive payment at agreed stages. Training, work, knowledge and rights would become parts of one assessable process. A final presentation could explain that process instead of substituting for it.

An institution that earns the word creative

Serious institutional competition needs a demanding standard: what changed in practitioners’ ability to work, what supports the claim, and who received the returns? Any organisation can announce an interest in the creative economy. Fair purchasing, timely payment, accessible knowledge, respect for ownership and transparent evaluation are practices that can be examined.

The creative economy advocated here makes imagination sustainable as a practice. It connects individual development to team organisation, business capability and the rules of markets and institutions. It respects the maker without removing the obligation to produce good work. It also keeps the institution’s own role open to scrutiny.

When a designer leaves the venue, something more than a photograph should remain: usable knowledge, understood rights, fair payment for work and a credible next opportunity. That is where the creative economy becomes a subject of production and accountability, and where an institution’s claims can be tested against the value it helps create and distribute.

Sources

1. UNCTAD. Creative Economy Outlook 2024; Trade and the Creative Economy.
2. Scott G, Leritz LE, Mumford MD. The effectiveness of creativity training: A quantitative review. Creativity Research Journal. 2004;16(4):361–388. DOI: 10.1080/10400410409534549.
3. Brucks MS, Huang SC. Does Practice Make Perfect? The Contrasting Effects of Repeated Practice on Creativity. Journal of the Association for Consumer Research. 2020;5(3):291–301. DOI: 10.1086/709174.
4. Sun J et al. Training your brain to be more creative: brain functional and structural changes induced by divergent thinking training. Human Brain Mapping. 2016;37(10):3375–3387. DOI: 10.1002/hbm.23246.
5. Carmeli A, Gelbard R, Reiter-Palmon R. Leadership, Creative Problem-Solving Capacity, and Creative Performance: The Importance of Knowledge Sharing. Human Resource Management. 2013;52(1):95–121. DOI: 10.1002/hrm.21514.
6. Fahmi FZ, McCann P, Koster S. Creative economy policy in developing countries: The case of Indonesia. Urban Studies. 2017;54(6):1367–1384. DOI: 10.1177/0042098015620529.
7. European Commission. General-purpose AI obligations under the AI Act; Guidelines on obligations for General-Purpose AI providers; AI Act Article 53. Official guidance, accessed 12 November 2026.
8. Câmara dos Deputados, Brazil. PL 2338/2023, legislative record 2487262. Status checked 12 November 2026: awaiting the rapporteur’s opinion in the special committee.