Producing in 2025

After nearly a decade of producing, I can say without hesitation that this is the most challenging climate I’ve worked in. Not because the work is any less joyful or urgent, but because the conditions surrounding it are heavier than ever.

The job of a theatre producer has always been part artist, part administrator, part fundraiser, part cheerleader. But in 2025, that role feels stretched to its limits. We're not just spinning plates anymore, we’re building the table, setting the cutlery and cooking the meal, while making sure everyone else at the table has what they need to thrive.

Ticket Sales Are Down. Everything Else Is Up.

Audiences aren’t buying tickets like they used to. Whether it’s post-pandemic habits, cost-of-living pressures or shifting interests in entertainment, even the most exciting, affordable or accessible shows are struggling to fill houses. That doesn't just make the work financially precarious, it chips away at the morale of entire teams who’ve poured their heart and soul into making something special with something important to say about the world, or just to create something fun and joyful that make us forget that the world is on fire for a bit.

At the same time, costs have risen dramatically across every area: travel, accommodation, fees, insurances, materials, etc, yet the core funding we rely on, be it from Arts Council England, local authorities, trusts or individual sponsors has remained largely static or shrunk in real terms. The maths just doesn’t add up and the gap is often absorbed by us, the producers, who are stretching budgets and relationships to keep things moving.

Producers as Caretakers

What many people (both inside and outside of our industry) don’t see is how emotionally demanding this job is. Producers are the connective tissue of a project. We hold the vision and the logistics, the budgets and the people. We make sure the designer has what they need to build the world, the cast has a safe and supported space to perform, the marketing team has a story to tell and the director has enough time to breathe. We’re listening, adapting and creating conditions in which others can do their best work.

It’s a role of constant balance. Between ambition and practicality, creativity, daring and sustainability. The budgets, schedules and contracts are important of course, but they’re only part of the story. The deeper responsibility is to safeguard the wellbeing of everyone involved. To make sure that artistry is not crushed under the weight of pressure and that no voice is lost in the noise.

We manage the nerves, the burnout, the expectations and the doubts. We hold the risk. And in this climate, the risk is higher than ever.

But We Keep Going

And yet, in the chaos of it all, there is still extraordinary work being made. Theatremakers are still dreaming big, reaching deep and creating moments that crack something open. Artists, companies and venues continue to innovate, support their communities and platform voices that urgently need to be heard.

We’re not just creating shows, we’re reimagining how theatre can work, experimenting with new models of collaboration, care and sustainability. Our resilience and creativity are being put to the test.

So What Now?

The danger is that we talk about producing only in terms of survival. Of plugging gaps, firefighting crises and somehow making the impossible possible. But producing isn’t just about survival, it’s about vision. It’s about daring to imagine what our sector could look like if we placed care, access and sustainability at its centre.

We need to be honest about the pressures producers are facing. We need to advocate for more flexible funding, for audiences to take chances again and for decision-makers to value the behind-the-scenes labour that holds this sector up.

We also need to celebrate each other! The job is hard, but it’s made lighter by generous collaborators, brave artists and audiences who still believe that sitting in a room together and witnessing a story unfold is a radical act of connection.

For all the challenges, I remain hopeful. Why? Because despite everything, theatre continues to matter. It continues to transform rooms, open conversations and bring people together in ways no other artform can. That resilience, that magic, is why producers keep showing up, even when the odds feel stacked against us. If we only measure success in pounds and pence, we miss the long-term cultural impact, the invisible scaffolding that producers put in place to allow creativity to sing.

To the producers reading this: I see you. I know how much of yourself you pour into the work. You're not alone. Keep going, but know that asking for support, rethinking how we work and demanding better isn’t failure. It’s the future.

To produce is to believe in possibility. To look at an empty space and see what could be. That belief is hard-earned, sometimes fragile, but it is also contagious. And right now, that belief might just be what gets us through.