MAKE ART, NOT WAR: What the BBC Scandal Reveals About Soft Power in Modern Diplomacy
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When a global institution like the BBC falls into crisis, it’s tempting to read it as “just another media scandal.”
But that narrow framing misses the point.
The BBC is not only a broadcaster.
It is one of the United Kingdom’s most powerful soft-power engines — shaping perceptions, exporting national narratives, and quietly influencing how the world understands Britain.
When its credibility shakes, something much larger shifts:
the foundation of cultural diplomacy itself.
This reminded me of a BBC Analysis episode on Cultural Diplomacy, where the host explores how governments use culture — art, media, language, artists — as strategic tools. The episode describes moments like artist Grayson Perry traveling with the British Council, suddenly becoming a de facto ambassador of British identity.
It sounds lighthearted.
But it’s serious business.
Because in the world of diplomacy, culture often succeeds where politics fails.
Soft Power: The Most Underestimated Force in International Relations
Hard power forces compliance.
Soft power invites admiration.
A symphony, a film, a book, a photograph, a public broadcaster — these are not neutral objects.
They are carriers of identity.
They shape worldviews.
And they do so quietly, without coercion.
The podcast makes this clear: governments know exactly how influential culture can be. That is why institutions like the BBC and the British Council exist — not simply to “inform” or “educate,” but to present a coherent, compelling national story to the rest of the world.
So when a broadcaster faces a major scandal, it is not merely a journalism issue.
It shakes a pillar of national influence.
If the storyteller loses trust, the story loses its power.
The BBC Crisis Isn’t Only About Credibility — It’s About Diplomatic Leverage
Today, the BBC is facing questions about editorial standards, political pressure, biased editing, internal culture, and transparency. But the real diplomatic question is this:
What happens to a country’s soft power when its greatest cultural asset loses trust?
For decades, the BBC has been Britain’s global megaphone — a messenger the world listened to because it was perceived as balanced, rigorous, almost mythically reliable.
That reputation was soft power.
It was diplomacy.
It was Britain’s cultural capital, broadcast 24/7 into millions of homes.
So when that capital is shaken, the UK loses more than its reputation.
It loses influence.
Soft Power Lives at the Dinner Table
U.S. diplomat Adam Vaught, speaking in the World Affairs Council of Atlanta’s episode “Who Wants To Be A Foreign Service Officer?” (2022), described something that reveals exactly why this matters.
He talked about the kind of public diplomacy that doesn’t look like diplomacy — the happy hours.
Beautiful gatherings in Shanghai where he found himself talking to journalists from Bloomberg, Reuters, the BBC.
People who translate nations to the world.
People whose work becomes part of a country’s global identity.
Around those tables, everyone brings their best. There is a mutual respect, a shared desire to understand, to represent, to communicate — softly, humanly.
This is soft power at its purest.
Not a negotiation.
Not a press conference.
A conversation.
But that entire dynamic depends on one fragile condition: trust.
When a major outlet loses its credibility, the tone at that table changes.
The easy flow of influence is disrupted.
Diplomats lose key partners.
Journalists lose the authority of their voice.
Soft power evaporates.
And once that trust breaks — how do you rebuild it?
This is the dilemma the BBC faces now, and a warning to every cultural institution that soft power is delicate, relational, and easily shaken.
Culture Builds Nations More Quietly — and More Permanently — Than Politics Ever Could
As an Estonian, I see this clearly.
Arvo Pärt — a single composer with a handful of notes — has done more for Estonia’s global cultural reputation than any political campaign, trade negotiation, or diplomatic strategy.
His music made Estonia a place where people felt something.
Soft power at its purest.
No sanctions.
No lobbying.
Just resonance.
This is why cultural diplomacy matters.
And it’s why EART (Estonian American Art Diplomacy) was created — to build bridges through art, storytelling, and creative expression; to let culture do what politics often cannot.
Culture disarms.
It connects.
It humanizes.
It tells the world who you are without ever raising your voice.
“Make Art, Not War”: A Thesis for the 21st Century
We are living in a world where:
- political rhetoric escalates
- borders harden
- trust in institutions erodes
- media fractures
- people become more polarized than ever
And yet, art remains a universal language.
A shared emotional field.
A diplomatic tool with no casualties — only connections.
Soft power is not decoration.
It is strategy.
It is influence.
It is peace-building.
It is identity-making.
And it often achieves what diplomats dream of.
The BBC scandal, ironically, proves this:
when cultural institutions falter, the entire diplomatic ecosystem feels the shockwave.
So the way forward — for nations, institutions, and cultural leaders — is clear:
Invest in credibility.
Invest in culture.
Invest in artists.
Invest in the stories that shape how the world sees us.
Because at the end of the day,
war destroys,
politics divides,
but culture — when used ethically — endures.
And in the international arena, the nations that thrive will be those who understand that the most powerful form of diplomacy is not control, but connection.
Make Art. Not War.