The Death of the Critic: From Cultural Visionaries to Vacuous Performers

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In December, the LA Times’ theatre critic lamented a bygone era in which “critics bestrode the media universe like giants, issuing cultural verdicts with the gavel-pounding authority of high court judges”. This sentiment is not unique.

Prospect magazine recently dissected the cultural role of far-right commentator Douglas Murray. Murray, known for inflammatory musings – such as suggesting the forced removal of Palestinians from Gaza – has been lauded as a leading public intellectual by figures such as the French public intellectual Bernard-Henri Lévy. Prospect concluded that this state of affairs says “nothing good” about modern society.

The shift from critics as cultural giants to divisive figures like Murray reflects a broader erosion of intellectual rigour and ethical responsibility.

Once, critics were cultural cartographers, mapping art, literature, and architecture with insight and vision. Figures such as Ian Nairn and Robert Hughes didn’t merely critique; they offered imaginative frameworks for society’s aspirations. They were provocateurs of thought, inspiring audiences to engage with the world more deeply.

Today, their role has largely been usurped by ideologues and algorithms. In place of thoughtful analysis, we see clickbait, performative outrage, and shallow commentary optimised for engagement rather than substance.

The critic, once a navigator of meaning, is increasingly irrelevant in a landscape dominated by metrics and mediocrity.

In place of thoughtful analysis, we see clickbait, performative outrage, and shallow commentary optimised for engagement rather than substance

Thoughtful Lost Giants

More than two decades ago, I experienced this shift firsthand while working with Jonathan Meades, one of the last great cultural critics.

I was his researcher for a BBC documentary on the architecture of Luis Barragán and Ricardo Legorreta in Mexico City. But the series was abruptly cancelled, with the then BBC2 controller Jane Root deeming Meades too “pale, male, and stale” for modern audiences. This decision effectively ended his television career. Imagine a British commentator today being commissioned to examine Mexican architecture – it seems unthinkable in a media climate that can prioritise superficial diversity over intellectual depth.

Shortly afterwards, I interviewed for a position as a researcher on Robert Hughes’ series Australia: Beyond the Fatal Shore. During our meeting, news broke of his near-fatal car accident. Though he survived, the injuries diminished his towering creative presence.

The sidelining of Meades and the loss of Hughes’ vitality were milestones in the decline of cultural criticism.

Upon Hughes’ death, The Wall Street Journal remarked that he left “many admirers but few followers”. This grim assessment encapsulates the modern critic’s plight.

Since the turn of the century, 80% of American newspaper and magazine cultural critics have been dismissed, and Britain’s intellectual landscape fares no better.

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The Decline of Cultural Ambition

The loss of these figures is a cultural tragedy.

Critics like Ian Nairn, whose 1955 Outrage condemned post-war Britain’s architectural mediocrity, didn’t just voice complaints; they issued moral indictments against societal complacency.

Hughes’ 1980 documentary series The Shock of the New didn’t merely document modernity’s chaos but provided audiences with a lens through which to engage with it meaningfully.

These critics were cultural stewards, challenging power, inspiring imagination, and connecting society to a broader continuum of human endeavour.

Today, these voices have been replaced by metrics-driven mediocrity.

Consider The Critic, a publication funded by millionaire Jeremy Hosking. While it postures as an intellectual platform, it often serves as a megaphone for reactionary grievance politics. Upon its launch, it claimed to challenge a “self-regarding consensus of virtue” supposedly dominating British institutions. This ignores the reality of more than a decade of Conservative Governments and a predominantly right-wing press. Far from revolutionary, The Critic exemplifies the parochialism it claims to oppose.

Misogynist influencer Andrew Tate. Photo: Associated Press / Alamy

In the void left by genuine critics, figures such as Andrew Tate, Jordan Peterson, and Laurence Fox have gained prominence. Their ‘cultural commentary’ is often little more than self-promotion disguised as intellectual discourse. Fox’s pub-bore provocations and Russell Brand’s conspiratorial ramblings illustrate a broader malaise: the triumph of sensationalism over substance.

This decline extends beyond personalities. Successive governments have gutted public institutions, leaving Britain’s cultural landscape adrift. Schools, libraries, and public spaces – once vibrant arenas for collective aspiration – now crumble under neglect.

Critics, once anchored by a shared cultural narrative, find themselves untethered, unable to provide the profound insights of their predecessors.

The Tyranny of Algorithms

Central to this crisis is the algorithm, an indifferent arbiter of value. Where critics once shaped cultural discourse, today’s commentators chase clicks. Depth and nuance are sacrificed on the altar of engagement.

Jonathan Meades lamented this transformation, describing modern television as a “moronocracy” where marketability trumps meaning.

The cancellation of Meades’s series symbolised the death of the critic for me.

The BBC, once a bastion of cultural ambition, now prioritises superficiality over substance. This shift represents more than a professional loss—it signifies the dismantling of a cultural infrastructure that once nurtured dissent and imagination.

Critics like Nairn and Meades offered visions of what society could be. Without them, we are left with uninspired narratives and “half-digested clichés,” as Nairn once warned.

A Call to Action

To be clear, the issue isn’t the decline of the white male critic. In an age of pluralism, we need plurality. Great critics transcend demographics, offering insights that challenge parochialism and connect us to internationalist visions. Figures such as Catherine Slessor, Angela McRobbie, David Olusoga, and Kehinde Andrews continue this vital work. Yet, their voices are increasingly marginal in a cacophony of mediocrity.

Reversing this decline requires a collective commitment to prioritise quality over engagement. We must fund cultural institutions, support thoughtful platforms, and foster environments where intellectual dissent thrives. Critics must reclaim their roles as navigators of meaning, not pastiche provocateurs.

The death of the critic reflects a broader societal failure: our inability to imagine and articulate new ways of being. Without critics, we are at the mercy of algorithms and ideologues, trapped in cycles of disinformation and mediocrity. But this decline is not inevitable.

Good critics can rise again – if we choose to value their role as cultural cartographers, illuminating the way forward in an increasingly disorienting world.

The question remains: will we?