Opiod scandal: Rebuffal of donations shows big business is guilty until proven innocent in the arts world

UK arts industry is begging for investment, argues Chris Blackhurst, so why is it being so picky?

The Tate said it would not take future donations from the Sacklers (EPA)

First, the National Portrait Gallery refused a gift of £1m because the potential donors are accused of fuelling the US opioid scandal. Then the Tate followed suit and said it would not take future donations from the same source. Cue applause among campaigners against the addictive prescriptive painkillers.

It looks like a clear-cut case of ethical standards rightly overruling a quest for cash. But is it so black and white?

First, the Sackler family behind the eponymous trust that was making the donations has not been convicted of anything. They own Purdue Pharma, manufacturer of Oxycontin, one of the main drugs at the centre of the crisis. However, they deny the claims made against them.

Their opponents will maintain – well they would say that, wouldn’t they? The Sacklers are unlikely to cough, they’re bound to defend their honour and reputation. That’s true. Equally, though, it is worth repeating: they have not been found to have acted illegally.

I don’t hold a candle for the Sacklers. On the face of it, the industry they’ve played a leading role in appears especially odious. But we used to live by the saying innocent until proven guilty. Now, it’s more a case of guilty without the proof. By turning down their money, which they have every right to do, the galleries have decided to play by this new standard.

The National Portrait Gallery cash was offered in 2016 to go towards its £35.5m redevelopment. Instead of turning it down flat there and then, the trustees wavered. Clearly, given the fact it took three years for them make up their minds, there were those who thought the £1m should be accepted.

It’s not as if the opioid epidemic is new – it’s been raging since the 1990s. Against that backdrop, the gallery still went ahead and talked to the family trust. What happened in those three years is that activists raised the temperature and brought pressure to bear on the gallery. The allegations swirling around the Sacklers have also intensified. But, I repeat, without any member of the family being convicted.

If alleged bad behaviour, immoral conduct, call it what you will, necessitates the withdrawal of donations and bequests, then institutions up and down the land must be scrutinising their plaques and citation boards

In the end, the National Portrait board decided the unwanted attention was proving too much, possibly would worsen, and chose to decline the gift. I might have done the same if I were in their position. I may, though, have contemplated the precedent I was setting, let alone saying goodbye to a much-needed, and hard to come by, £1m injection.

For that is the second point, that Britain’s arts funding is in desperate shape. And, while I am at it, not only arts but the entire charitable sector. We simply do not possess a culture of philanthropic-giving, like they do the US. Arguably, the rejection of the Sackler funding makes the gulf even deeper.

If alleged bad behaviour, immoral conduct, call it what you will, necessitates the withdrawal of donations and bequests, then there must be plenty of institutions up and down the land that right now are scrutinising their plaques and citation boards. There can’t be a charity anywhere that has not received cash from a benefactor against whom it is possible to make a case for sending back the money.

More than that, we’ve reached a moment in our national life where almost anything regarding substantial wealth and big business is widely viewed with suspicion and cynicism, if not downright hostility. Rather than celebrate successful entrepreneurs, we denigrate them. If it’s a choice between remaining hard-up or taking their donations, seemingly, we’d prefer to remain impoverished.

I once took the head of one of our largest banks to watch a play. The theatre was desperately short of finance. I introduced him to one of the theatre’s senior figures. When he heard what the banker did for a living, he made the sign of the cross, as if he was meeting Count Dracula (it was after the banking crisis). He should have been delighted that this wealthy, very well-connected executive was visiting his theatre among all theatres, and gone out of his way to explain its predicament and to charm him.

Quite the opposite: what may have been a light-hearted gesture, displayed a prevailing view, drove the banker away. He stayed for the show but the damage had been done. Any act of generosity on his part perished. There was no likelihood of him ever writing a cheque to that theatre.

Likewise, I was talking to an oligarch recently, who was moaning about the negative media he was receiving. In truth it was not that bad, but the coverage did dwell on his riches and not his achievements in business. It was sufficient to annoy him, and he was considering trying to boost his image, to gain more positive press.

One way we discussed was for him to make a substantial payment to a good cause. We thought about it, and we dismissed it. The more we considered it, the more worried we became that all his sponsorship would do would be to invite further attention on his fortune and not on how he got there. It would, in other words, not only defeat the object but actually make the treatment he was receiving more negative.

There is a phrase that all our arts and financially-pressed charitable bodies should hold dear: beggars cannot be choosers. By all means refuse the Sackler money but be aware of the downside.

Chris Blackhurst is a former editor of The Independent, and director of C|T|F Partners, the campaigns, strategic, crisis and reputational, communications advisory firm