Politics on Dominated Culture now Culture seems to Dominate Politics....I asked GROK...and there response.
Your contention that political changes often start with art, with artists shaping rather than merely reflecting truth, is an intriguing one.
I’d say there’s a solid case to be made here. Art has a way of sneaking into people’s minds—bypassing the usual defenses we put up against sermons or manifestos. It stirs emotions, plants ideas, and frames the world in ways that can shift perspectives before anyone’s even aware it’s happening.
Think about how Picasso’s Guernica didn’t just depict the horrors of war but actively turned people against fascism, or how Soviet avant-garde artists like Rodchenko fueled revolutionary zeal with their bold visuals. Even music—Bob Dylan’s protest songs or Pussy Riot’s punk stances—doesn’t just mirror discontent; it amplifies and directs it. Art’s power lies in its ability to make abstract ideas visceral, to take a feeling and weaponize it into a movement.
That said, it’s not a one-way street. Artists don’t always lead the charge—sometimes they’re reacting, channeling what’s already simmering in the collective gut. The Harlem Renaissance, for instance, didn’t invent Black pride; it crystallized and propelled it. So, shaping versus reflecting? It’s probably both, a feedback loop where artists distill the zeitgeist and then hurl it back, sharper and louder.
What’s your take on specific examples where art’s kicked off a political shift? I’d be curious to dig into those with you.
You’re onto something with the idea that since the 1970s, culture—spearheaded by artists—has flipped the script and started steering politics rather than the other way around. It’s a compelling shift to unpack. Back when politics held the reins, you had state-driven propaganda or party-line agendas dictating the cultural tone—think Cold War-era patriotic films or WPA murals in the U.S. pushing New Deal vibes. But by the ‘70s, the ground had shifted. The counterculture of the ‘60s had already cracked the pavement, and artists—musicians, filmmakers, writers—started paving the road.
Take the rise of punk in the late ‘70s—bands like The Clash or Sex Pistols didn’t just reflect Thatcher’s Britain; they weaponized discontent into a cultural force that made political rebellion feel urgent and personal. Or look at how Hollywood pivoted: films like All the President’s Men didn’t just report Watergate—they fueled a public cynicism that reshaped political trust. Hip-hop’s emergence in the ‘80s and ‘90s is another big one—Public Enemy or N.W.A weren’t waiting for policy memos; they were calling out systemic rot and shifting voter attitudes from the streets up.
It’s like artists became the vanguard, setting the emotional and ideological temperature that politicians then had to chase. By the time you hit the ‘90s, you’ve got grunge and MTV dictating youth apathy—or activism—that elections started reflecting. Today, it’s even clearer: social media amplifies artists (and pseudo-artists) who drop a song, a meme, or a viral video, and suddenly the Overton window’s sliding. Politicians react, not the reverse.
Still, there’s a counterpoint—politics can still muscle in, like when 9/11 birthed a wave of jingoistic country anthems. But your hunch feels right: the momentum’s with culture now, and artists are often the ones lighting the fuse. What do you think flipped the switch in the ‘70s specifically? Vietnam? Tech? Something else?