Across the country, places are being reshaped through both devolution and local government reorganisation. They are often spoken about as if they are the same thing, but they are not – and for arts centres and other cultural organisations, the difference is important.

Local Government Reorganisation is, at its core, about structure. It reshapes councils, merges authorities, redraws responsibilities and reporting lines. It can feel very immediate because it affects the relationships you have, the people you work with, and the systems you rely on day to day.

Devolution, on the other hand, is about power and investment. It creates new layers of decision-making – combined authorities – shifting funding and strategic control from central government to a regional level.

For arts organisations, those two processes land very differently. Reorganisation might change who your local authority partner is, or how culture is positioned within a council. Devolution determines whether culture is part of a much bigger conversation about economic growth, skills, health, and the identity of a place. One is about who you talk to; the other is about what gets talked about at all.

There is also a subtle but important shift happening nationally. Recent changes to the English Devolution Bill now require mayors to consider culture as part of their responsibilities. On one level, that is a significant step forward – it creates a baseline expectation that culture is part of the conversation. But it is only that: a starting point. Being ‘considered’ does not guarantee being prioritised, resourced, or meaningfully embedded. What happens next still depends on how the case is made locally, and who is in the room to make it.

From experience of working in a devolved area, the difference is not abstract – it plays out very concretely in what is possible. In the Tees Valley, for example, culture was written into the Strategic Economic Plan as one of six core priorities. That didn’t happen because it was obvious or inevitable; it took a lot of work from people in the sector to make the case, to keep making it, and to do so in a way that made sense to people who weren’t starting with an understanding of what culture does. The result was significant – around £60 million invested into the sector over five years – but just as important was the shift in how culture was understood. It wasn’t a nice-to-have or an add-on, it was part of the economic story.

What becomes clear quite quickly in these environments is that culture is not always well understood, and sometimes doesn’t help itself in that regard. It can present itself as something separate, something that sits slightly outside the main agendas, which makes it harder for others to see where it fits. If we want to be part of these conversations, we have to do a bit more work to meet them where they are.

That usually means holding two positions at once. On one level, being very clear that this is an economic sector made up of organisations and freelancers – or microbusinesses, as I learnt to call them – that need support around skills, infrastructure, and growth just like any other sector. On another level, being equally clear about the role culture plays in shaping places: in attracting people, in retaining talent, in making somewhere you want to live and work. Most combined authorities are already focused on those things. The opportunity is to connect what we do to those priorities in a way that feels obvious rather than forced.

No one is waiting to invite culture into the room. These systems are being built in real time, and if the sector isn’t present, it won’t be factored in. And that is exactly where the opportunity sits. In the places where culture has been able to secure a meaningful role, it’s because people stepped into that space – taking on a leadership role locally, bringing others with them, and being prepared to speak not just for their own organisation but for the wider sector.

That doesn’t mean having all the answers, but it does mean turning up with a clear sense of what matters and why, and being willing to engage in conversations that might not feel immediately familiar. Over time, that builds credibility, and with that comes influence.

There’s also a shift that happens around language, and it’s an important one. Devolution is not, generally, a grant-giving environment. It’s framed around investment, outcomes, and return. If we continue to talk about culture primarily in terms of need – what we require to keep going – we risk being heard as a cost rather than a contributor. Reframing that conversation around potential – what the sector can deliver if it is properly supported – changes how it lands.

Arts centres are actually in a very strong position here, because they already operate in ways that cut across different agendas – they are cultural, social, economic spaces all at once – but that isn’t always how they are described. Making that visible, in a language that aligns with wider priorities, is part of the work.

Alongside all of this sits local government reorganisation, which can feel more immediate and, at times, more destabilising. Structures change, teams shift, capacity can be stretched, and culture can slip down the list simply because there are other pressures. It’s easy to experience that as a loss – and sometimes it is – but it’s also a moment where new strategies and new ways of working are being formed. Where that happens, there is a chance, if the case is made well, for culture to be embedded differently, and perhaps more securely, than before.

What links both processes is timing. Decisions are being made now that will shape how places operate for years to come. The question for the sector is less about whether to engage, and more about how.

There are places where this is beginning to work well. At their best, Combined Authorities are not trying to replicate national funders or commission culture directly. Instead, they focus on the conditions that allow it to thrive: skills, workspace, transport, digital infrastructure, and the wider economic ecosystems that freelancers and organisations depend on. This is slower, less visible work than funding individual projects, but it is arguably more powerful. It recognises that a healthy cultural sector is not built project by project, but through sustained attention to the environment in which creative people live and work.

If you’re facing devolution or local government reorganisation or both, then these three questions may be useful to ask:

• Where is your voice in all of this at the moment – are you part of the conversation, or hearing about it afterwards?
• How is culture being framed locally – is it connected to growth, skills, health, or still sitting slightly to one side?
• And what is the story your place is trying to tell about itself, and how does the cultural sector help to tell it?

None of this is straightforward, and it’s not always comfortable. These are not cultural processes; they are political and economic ones, and they operate on different terms. But they will shape the landscape we’re working in for the next decade or more. Sitting outside them doesn’t keep things the same – it just means decisions are made without us.

The alternative is to step into that space, imperfectly, collectively, and with enough clarity to be taken seriously.