Is American culture for sale?

This is a question bound to generate an opinion or two, but a bit of explanation first. By culture, I do not mean simply art with a capital A, or some sort of high brow/low brow distinction between people and their entertainment preferences or taste in fashion. I mean culture in the sense of 'society and culture,” where society is a group of people in a certain place, be it a town or country or even a neighborhood. Their customs, language, beliefs, behaviors, values and material objects, broadly put, form their culture. American society is bound together by a shared culture. We are a pluralistic society of many groups, but we still share cultural traits that make us all, in the end, 'American.”

Capitalism is another word bound to generate strong opinions, both positive and negative. It is undeniably the American economic system and responsible for our high standard of living. But like a lot of 'isms” it carries a host of different angles and meanings. Simply put, I mean free enterprise where private capital coexists with government, and where people behave in certain ways and take part in certain activities because it generates revenue or brings a return on investment.

That said, these two very big ideas increasingly appear to be in conflict these days, their advocates unable to cooperate for the greater good of the country as a whole. Cultural traditions that define and perpetuate our American society are losing ground, both in financial support and popular appreciation. Cultural traditions that help generate a 'sense of community” and bind us together as Americans seem to mean less today because they don't make a buck. Without that ability to generate cash, and do it fast, we value the activity less and less.

Take, for example, museums. These institutions have long educated, inspired, and enlightened their public audiences. At first, most museums were privately funded by the wealthy, or at least people with extra time, some spare cash, and a special interest in history, or art, or science. Over the years museums gained more government support. That made them more professional and opened the doors to a broader range of visitors with free or inexpensive admissions. Today, with public funding down, the fees are inching up. 'Engagement” is the new watchword and museums want, indeed need, to attract and hold the visitor's attention. Blockbuster exhibits generate a lot of attention but also demand high fees at the door. The museum gift shop has become an important profit center allowing visitors to take home a T-shirt or coffee mug to remember their trip. But attention spans are so short there's little time to absorb new knowledge or novel ideas. As an entertainment venue, museums face tough competition for the public's attention including those iPhones in everyone's hands.

Public television and radio suffer from the same lack of financial support. Once commercial free, these media now hold frequent fundraisers and send out solicitation mail all year long. Programming breaks are filled with 10-second thank you's to the stations' 'supporters.” No matter what they're called, these spots are commercials. And why would these media not constantly fundraise since the 'public” support for public broadcasting essentially has dried up? To see what a difference public funding makes,

compare American NPR stations - now widely available for streaming on the Internet - with the United Kingdom's BBC, a truly public broadcasting system of remarkable quality.

A more local example of a public institution fighting for its soul is the State Historical Society of Iowa. The Society was born in Iowa City in the nineteenth century and long served as the one and only statewide historical society. The facility's collection of historic photographs, maps, correspondence and papers, and hard-to-find commercial catalogs and advertising from the last century, is truly extraordinary. These collections have inspired wide-ranging research, resulting in hundreds of books, and journal and magazine articles, with subjects ranging from the Iowa's earliest settlers in 1840s and 50s, to the Civil War, to the Civil Rights movement a hundred years later. Its location near the University of Iowa meant generations of students and professors had crucial opportunities for research and learning about Iowa and its place in the greater American society. But the State Historical Society, especially its original Iowa City's office, has been mortally wounded by reductions in staffing and budget, with hours cut back to the bone. These wounds likely will close the Iowa City facility eventually, thereby denying a central research location to the majority of Iowans who live between Des Moines and the Mississippi River.

Funding for preservation of America's material culture - its historic architecture - has always been meagerly supported in comparison to Europe's deep commitment to it. The UK's National Trust is supported by nearly 4 million members out of a total population of 64 million, enabling it to avoid government funding. The comparable national preservation organization in this country is the National Trust for Historic Preservation. The Trust received federal support for its first 30 years, but this was cut off in 1996. Our National Trust is now is privately supported by 300,000 members, out of a total population of over 300 million. Other federal funding for preservation has stayed flat over the last several decades, meaning government support is actually down if inflation and cost increases are accounted for. American 'individualism” and our dedication to private property rights surely drive this cultural difference in how we value historic architecture and sites.

In a recent op-ed in the New York Times, Roger Cohen wrote 'Americans who dwell in a vast country, sparsely populated by European standards, are hard-wired to the notion of individual self-reliance” and 'tend to see the state as a predator” on citizen rights - including property rights. Returning recently from a trip to Europe, Cohen was struck by America's 'crumbling infrastructure” and the 'paucity of public spaces.” Like preservation, these things cry out for public funding because they benefit the entire society, generally and broadly. But to many people the connection of public places, infrastructure, and historic architecture to the process of making money is far from clear or direct. To some there is simply no connection.

The battle between community enrichment and private property rights recently played out in Iowa City, ending with the demolition of three mid-19th century brick cottages along Dubuque Street. On the one side, the cottages' longtime property owner sought to redevelop the land with a new building that would generate more profit than the old buildings - a perfectly reasonable goal and certainly one within his property rights. On the other side, dismayed community residents could only see important local history turning to red dust as the ancient bricks fell. Also a perfectly reasonable interpretation of the situation.

But it would be hard for any long-term resident of Iowa City to be unaware of the great age and historic character of these brick cottages. Likewise, any Iowa Citian past the age of 30 could hardly miss the preservation battles that erupt every decade or so, played out in the press and through protesters standing in front of the doomed building. In the 1960s it was about the First Presbyterian Church, aka Old Brick. In the 1970s it was the 'urban renewal” of downtown. By the 1980s the fight was over more downtown parking ramps. And in the 1990s, a small and extremely significant 19th-century Gothic Revival cottage called Bluffwood was felled by bulldozers in order to build 'little boxes on the hillside,” to quote the song. It is a hollow excuse to claim being blindsided by the brouhaha that erupted over the Dubuque Street brick cottages.

At the same time, preservationists who have a soft spot for old buildings often face these demolitions with blindfolds on too, unable to understand why a property owner simply won't leave things alone and let their buildings stand. Town residents who appreciate a 19th-century streetscape of fine Queen Ann houses or brick storefronts don't have the profit motive or economic driver that developers have. They can only act as volunteers for the cause, usually with time constraints. Meanwhile the lack of funding for preservation often means the best that can be done is to identify but not protect Iowa City's important historic buildings. A shortage of both money and profit motive frequently puts preservationists in the catch-up game, trying to save a building after its fate has been sealed.

Like museums and historical societies, preservation organizations struggle to provide a broad community benefit in an era of diminishing appreciation and funding. The struggle, pitting profit against culture, is playing out in Iowa City, Cedar Rapids, and all over the state and beyond. We all have much to lose if either side wins completely.

' Jan Olive Full is a historian who works throughout Iowa and lives in Iowa City. janolivefull@gmail.com