---

---

In 1969, a visionary moment occurred in Irish cultural policy when Charles Haughey, then Minister for Finance and future Taoiseach, introduced what would become one of the most iconic supports for the creative community in our nation’s history: the Artist Tax Exemption. This groundbreaking scheme demonstrated Ireland’s commitment to fostering artistic expression by exempting creative individuals from income tax on earnings from their original works.

I’ve spent the last four nights diving deep into research about Charlie Haughey and his relationship with the arts. The man was a major patron. He appreciated the finer things in life, like horses, greyhounds and boats. Haughey understood culture in all its forms, both high art and quotidienne musings. Which is why, if he were alive today, I know he would recognise digital content creation as deserving of the same tax benefits as “traditional” art forms.

For almost six decades, this exemption has supported writers, visual artists, composers, and sculptors, allowing them to focus on their craft without the burden of income tax on their creative endeavours. But here’s the question burning in my mind and keeping me up at night. Why hasn’t this exemption evolved to embrace the most significant cultural contributors of our age: Online Digital Content Creators?

While my personal influencer journey has yet to reach the level of spon-con PR packages, that day is coming, and when it does; why should my work not be recognised on the same level as writers, musicians and poets?

Revenue has been cracking down on the humble influencer as of late. 450 letters have been sent to content creators across Ireland demanding that we declare our “gifts” as taxable income. Even Amy Huberman’s husband has been struck with a notice for failure to disclose #ad in a sponsored post.

This is a pivotal moment for our creative economy. Ever since I completed my undergraduate degree in Communications, I’ve considered myself first and foremost an artist. My canvas is the Instagram grid. My medium is the curated lifestyle moment. My patrons are the brands who will recognise my artistic vision enough to send me products that I’ve never heard of, won’t use and didn’t know existed until they arrived at my door.

The Revenue Commissioners seem to believe that when a brand sends an artist their 9th moisture-boosting serum of the month, this constitutes taxable income. But when a painter receives a grant to create their work and sells it for profit, that’s “tax-free art”? Make it make sense.

Let’s talk about qualification criteria. The Artists’ Exemption applies to works that are “original and creative” and have “cultural or artistic merit.” Yesterday, I spent three hours meticulously crafting the perfect unboxing sequence for an unnamed garden mulch subscription box. And after all that work they tell me they’ve “been bought by private equity”, have “gone into receivership.” and won’t be able to “pay me.” Tell me again that dedication to craft doesn’t constitute artistic merit.

When artists like my favourite author Sally Rooney, my favourite composer Bono and famous painters get tax exemptions for their words, music and paintings, why then am I excluded when I compose a thoughtful caption about how charcoal toothpaste has “changed my smile journey”? Is that not cultural commentary? Is that not storytelling? Is that not, dare I say, literature?

The evidence of my artistic contribution is overwhelming. What else is a perfectly curated Instagram grid, if not hours of planning, shooting, editing; representing a visual diary of contemporary Irish consumer culture?

Does not the Instagram story provide a real-time narrative of product integration into daily life, essentially creating a living documentary about Irish consumer identity in the post-Celtic Tiger era?

Is the viral reel about how to style the same dress five different ways not a visual poem about sustainable fashion and economic constraint?

These are not mere commercial endeavours; they are artistic expressions that document and shape Irish culture in real-time. Charles Haughey recognized the value of artists to Irish society, and I believe he would see influencers as the natural evolution of cultural storytellers in the digital realm.

Some may argue that influencing is purely commercial rather than creative. But I’ve seen too much drone footage of hotel getaways to believe that those creators aren’t doing something with their hearts. Since the days of Andy Warhol’s sponsored Campbell’s Soup campaign, the line between art and commerce has been fluid, and commercial digital content creation sits precisely at this intersection, just as a regular, unsponsored poster might sit precisely at the intersection of wanting to be taken seriously while also desperately seeking validation from strangers on the internet for no money.

The financial reality for most content creators is far from the perception of limitless freebies and six-figure brand deals. The average Irish influencer makes barely enough to cover our rent and studio-quality recording equipment. Now Revenue wants us to pay tax on the €15 face mask we’re sent and expected to create content for? Beggars belief!

Traditional artists get grants, studio spaces, and tax exemptions. What do content creators get? Disrespect at every turn, and now, tax bills for products we wouldn’t have even bought ourselves but felt obliged to feature because the brand’s PR boy keeps “checking in” on when the post is going live. It suffocates creative expression in the crib.

In his 1972 address at Harvard University, Haughey stated that the taxation aspects of the artists’ exemption were “of less importance than the clear and unequivocal recognition by the Government of the special position of the artist in society.” A quote I’ve printed out stuck it to my mirror. Because this is all we’re asking for: recognition of our cultural contribution.

If James Joyce were alive today, he’d have a podcast, and a BeReal account and likely, a snapchat, and no one can convince me otherwise.

Maud Gonne would be landing exclusive sponsorships with fashion brands. Lady Gregory would be doing paid partnerships with luxury stationery brands and unboxing videos of first-edition books sent by publishing houses. Elizabeth Bowen would have scored a free stay at every castle hotel with ‘Best Of Ireland’ for her “historical romance aesthetic” Instagram content. The greats adapt to their times and get the brand deals they deserve.

I’m calling on Revenue, Minister Jack Chambers and the Department of Finance, and all relevant cultural bodies to recognise digital content creation as the artistic frontier of our generation. My Instagram grid is a gallery exhibition that refreshes daily. My TikTok is performance art.

The truth is, influencing isn’t just about pretty pictures and free stuff. It’s about connecting brands with audiences in authentic ways. It’s about creating aspirational content that makes people feel like their lives could better; as curated and perfect as ours. That’s not just commerce, that’s culture.

And if anyone from Revenue is reading this, I want you to know that the designer handbag in my latest post was borrowed and due back tomorrow, the “luxury vacation” was actually a paid trip where I shared a room with three other creators and got diarrhoea. The Aperol Spritz I’m “casually enjoying” was purchased specifically for the photo and then given to my friend because I don’t like Aperol.

I’m not just selling products; I’m selling a dream. And dreams, as Charles Haughey understood, deserve to be tax-exempt..

So please, Revenue, extend the Artist Exemption Scheme to include us digital creators. My ring light burns bright, but my bank account is in the dark. And as the man himself might have said if he were alive in the age of Instagram, “The measurement of a nation’s civilisation is how it supports those who document its lifestyle aspirations one sponsored post at a time.”