What Bangladesh's creative economy actually needs

The upcoming national budget is expected to set aside Tk3 billion for the creative economy. This looks like the beginning of something significant. But anyone who has spent time with the people who actually make films, run theatre groups, publish books, or weave baskets for a living will recognise a familiar pattern.

In Bangladesh, supporting culture has usually meant breaking ground on something new, not fixing what already exists. The real test of whether this becomes a genuine economic sector or simply another slogan lies elsewhere.

At a webinar series, titled Ajker Agenda, organised by the Power and Participation Research Centre (PPRC), discussants emphasised the need for a comprehensive plan for the creative economy.

Filmmaker Tamim Noor underscored the tax problem first. A filmmaker who sells Tk10 crore worth of tickets currently hands nearly Tk2.3 crore of that straight to the government before the producer, distributor, or cinema hall owner sees a single taka. For a fledgling OTT platform, the number is even starker: a Tk1 crore production budget effectively becomes Tk1.27 crore once corporate tax, VAT, income tax, and advance income tax are added — before a single subscriber has paid a single taka. 

Meanwhile, foreign streaming platforms operating in Bangladesh pay no local tax at all, since they sit entirely outside the domestic system. Bangladeshi companies are, in effect, competing with one hand tied behind their back.

Then there is the more basic infrastructure problem — one that has nothing to do with buildings. Chorki's CEO pointed out that Bangladesh still has no PayPal or similar payment access. A platform earning subscription revenue from more than 180 countries has to route that money through third-country intermediaries who take a cut before it ever reaches Bangladesh's foreign exchange reserves. This is precisely the kind of foreign currency earning potential the government says it wants to unlock, yet the plumbing to bring that money home simply is not there.

Publisher Mahrukh Mohiuddin and cultural organiser Luva Nahid Chowdhury pointed out that copyright is the third leg of the problem — and arguably the most fundamental one. Bangladesh's Copyright Act has not been meaningfully updated in over two decades. Piracy, both print and digital, runs so deep that industry figures in film put the share of unpaid consumption as high as 95%. 

A filmmaker who sells Tk10 crore worth of tickets currently hands nearly Tk2.3 crore of that straight to the government before the producer, distributor, or cinema hall owner sees a single taka. For a fledgling OTT platform, the number is even starker: a Tk1 crore production budget effectively becomes Tk1.27 crore once corporate tax, VAT, income tax, and advance income tax are added — before a single subscriber has paid a single taka.

Musicians and lyricists have no enforceable, permanent right to royalties when their work is resold or reused. Visual artists get nothing when a painting they once sold for a modest sum is resold years later for many times that amount. There is no Collective Management Organisation to negotiate on creators' behalf, no clear agency to report piracy to, and no consistent answer to a question as basic as whether a complaint should go to the police or to the Copyright Registrar.

None of this is solved by a hub, however large. A 100-acre creative centre in Purbachal or new creative spaces attached to Shilpakala Academy buildings across the country may well be useful. But Bangladesh does not suffer from a shortage of buildings. The Bangladesh Film Development Corporation already exists and functions, by most accounts, as little more than a rental facility today. 

Creative Director Bakar Bokul lamented that Shilpakala Academy halls across the country host memorial meetings and seminars more often than they host art. Adding more physical space without fixing tax policy, payment infrastructure, and copyright enforcement risks producing exactly the same outcomes inside newer buildings.

There is a genuine opportunity being missed here, and it is worth naming clearly. The creative sectors identified by the Finance Division — from film and OTT to handicrafts, publishing, and design — already generate real revenue and employ real people, often invisibly. 

A single handicraft company can support nearly 5,000 direct employees and another 20,000 people in its rural supply chain, mostly women working from home who never migrate to Dhaka. This is the real-life experience of social entrepreneur Md Tauhid Bin Abdus Salam. A film industry that once employed up to 200,000 people during its peak in the 1970s and 1980s has the historical proof of concept already sitting in front of policymakers. What is missing is not creative talent or market demand — it is the policy scaffolding that lets that talent turn into sustainable income.

The most useful thing the government could do in the coming months has little to do with land. It means cutting the tax burden on domestic film and OTT production, even temporarily, to attract investment instead of driving it toward undeclared money. It means building the basic institutional plumbing — a proper artisan registry, a functioning copyright enforcement mechanism, and a licensing category for OTT platforms that currently do not officially exist as an industry at all. It means creating one clear authority that creative sector workers can actually approach, rather than shuttling between ministries that each claim a small piece of the puzzle.

Bangladesh has the audience. Films like Utshab and Bonolota Express have proven that domestic viewers show up when the product is good. What is missing is a policy environment that turns demand into a self-sustaining sector. The Tk3 billion allocation signals intent — but what matters now is fixing tax codes, payment systems, and copyright law.

Fariha Afrin is a Research Executive at the Power and Participation Research Centre (PPRC), Dhaka.

Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of The Business Standard.