To me, the issue at the Berkshire Museum is not about deaccessioning artwork. The issue is about the violation of public trust.
Like many museum directors across the country, I've followed the controversy at the Berkshire Museum with a mixture of curiosity and alarm. I have not visited the museum, nor do I have any personal connection with the Berkshires.
But I do care — deeply — about the role museums play in connecting people with culture in meaningful ways. In a world that is increasingly privatized and commodified, museums, like all nonprofit organizations, stand for something public and shared. Public trust is precious and rare. And in the Berkshires, I fear it is under threat.
The Berkshire Museum isn't deaccessioning artifacts of questionable public value. They are selling off 40 of their top artworks on the open market. By deaccessioning the most valuable art in their collection, the Berkshire Museum is transferring valued public assets into private hands.
They are making an arrogant gamble, claiming that their planned new museum will have equal or greater public value than the artworks they are selling to fund it. Maybe it will. Maybe it won't. They are selling heritage to finance progress. It's not surprising that not everyone takes their claims on faith.
It's not entirely the Berkshire Museum's fault that they are in this position. Museum industry standards on deaccessioning are inflexible and antiquated.
Right now, there is no "ethical" vehicle by which a museum might sell high-value artifacts for any purpose other than to buy and protect other artifacts. This standard is unreasonable in a time when museums do much more than collect and care for objects — and it forces the Berkshire Museum into an all-or-nothing choice. An institution like the Berkshire Museum risks professional censure whether they sell a painting on the open market or to another museum, assuming they plan to use the proceeds to fund their New Vision.
Why wouldn't they make the rational choice to get as much money as possible for their sins? Because their choice has consequences beyond their own self-interest. It exposes the fragility of the rule of deaccessioning, the thin line between "treasured public asset" and "hard cold cash." The rule is built on a sleight of hand, a conceit that says that museums won't acknowledge the market value of objects — until they will. As cultural theorist Diane Ragsdale put it, "When communities become markets, citizens become consumers, and culture becomes an exploitable product."
When museums start putting price tags on their objects, other institutions do too. When Detroit was going bankrupt in 2013, the city's emergency manager fought to sell off some of the prized artworks in the Detroit Institute of Art. In 2009, Brandeis University came close to looting and liquidating its Rose Art Museum, and today, a similar controversy is raging over the museum at La Salle University.
At La Salle, as in the Berkshires, university leadership argues that the deaccessioning and closure of the museum is a necessary, painful corrective to dire financial conditions. These museums and their artworks were exposed as market assets to be cashed in as needed.
Museum professionals often decry these actions because they will disincentivize future donors from giving valuable artwork to museums (and therefore, the argument goes, to the public). But I think there's a much more insidious impact of these actions: It encourages the continued slide of museums away from the public trust and into the market economy.
And once that happens, all bets are off. Two years ago, the Detroit Institute of Art won the battle to keep their treasured artwork in the museum. But other battles have been — and could be — lost. It could even happen on a national scale. If a rapacious, short-sighted federal government is willing to strip protected land for natural resources, what's to stop them from looting the Smithsonian to fund their own version of progress?
There are creative alternatives to traditional museum deaccessioning policies that could solve this problem. Instead of fighting to protect an imperfect and antiquated rule, we could create new rules — rules that put the public trust, not objects, first.
Other nonprofit industries have done this. Accredited American zoos, for example, have a strict policy that governs how animals move from one institution to another. If your zoo no longer plans to exhibit giraffes, those giraffes don't suddenly become fungible assets on the open market. They become tradable assets within a controlled market — with other accredited zoos, who will care for the giraffes as well as you once did.
Food banks have an auction-based model. There's a national online auction site where food banks can bid on large lots of donated food with fake money, called shares. The auction system helps individual food banks determine what they need most, rather than a national agency guessing — and sometimes, guessing wrong.
Both zoos and food banks have gotten creative about how to manage their assets and serve the public trust. Instead of clinging to outdated deaccessioning policies, it's time for museums to get creative as well. If we don't, we risk betraying the public trust in a venal grab for more flexible assets.
Rather than converting assets from the public trust to the private market, I'd like to see more creative ways for nonprofits to increase the number of assets in the public trust. I'd like to see dividends from large endowments shared among nonprofits in their respective communities. I'd like to see more land trusts sharing their space with other organizations. I'd like to see more museums sharing their artifacts. I'd like to see more marketplaces like those of zoos or food banks, so assets in the public trust can be shared wisely and efficiently.
We shouldn't have to choose between the Norman Rockwell paintings and a great Berkshire Museum. There should be a way to expand the pie of public assets instead of swapping the heritage we have for the future we will build.
What if the Berkshire Museum could sell a fraction of their prized artworks to other museums, for a fraction of their fundraising goal, so they could test out whether their "New Vision" actually served their community better? What if they got involved in a project like Culture Bank, to invest the artworks securely to fund some aspects of their planned transformation? What if they worked out a way to accrue less and get more — more for their community, more for the public at large?
The pressure will always be on to capitulate to the market economy, to embrace the market and live by its rules. But we can resist. Nonprofit organizations have unique opportunities to resist. If we want to embrace communities instead of markets, we have to fight for it. We have to fight for the public trust, generosity, and shared ownership. We have to be ingenious in coming up with alternative forms of economic value, accumulation and transfer. No one is going to do it for us.
Nina Simon is the executive director of the Santa Cruz Museum of Art & History in California. She is author of "The Participatory Museum" (2010) and "The Art of Relevance" (2016), and she writes the popular Museum 2.0 blog where a version of this commentary first appeared.