The glittering world of the creative fields—publishing, fashion, film, design, journalism—has always been shrouded in a powerful allure. It’s an world sold as one of passion, innovation, and cultural impact. For decades, the price of admission into this exclusive club has been the unpaid internship. It’s presented as a rite of passage, a necessary apprenticeship where hopefuls “pay their dues” in exchange for portfolio pieces and a foot in the door. But as industries reckon with systemic inequalities, this long-standing practice is being forced under an uncomfortable ethical microscope. Is the unpaid creative internship a valuable learning experience, or is it a system of exploitation that filters out everyone but the privileged?
In no other sector is the “passion tax” so heavily levied. Young, ambitious individuals are expected to work for free, driven by the belief that their love for the craft should be enough. The argument is that the experience gained—observing a photoshoot, earning a byline, or getting a credit on a short film—is a form of compensation in itself. This creates a dangerous narrative where creative work is seen as a hobby or a calling, not a profession deserving of remuneration. The promise of “exposure” is dangled as a currency, yet exposure has never paid for groceries, rent, or student loans.
The Great Gate: Who Can Afford to Work for Free?
This is the central ethical failing of the unpaid internship model. By refusing to compensate interns for their labor, creative industries are engaging in a massive act of gatekeeping. Let’s be brutally honest: the only people who can afford to work full-time for three, six, or even twelve months without pay are those who have significant external financial support. This usually means young adults whose parents can bankroll their lives in some of the most expensive cities in the world, like New York, London, or Los Angeles, where these industries are concentrated.
The aspiring graphic designer from a working-class family, who has to work two paid jobs just to get through college, cannot compete. The talented writer from a rural area with no industry connections cannot afford the cost of relocation, let alone the absence of a paycheck. The result is not a meritocracy; it’s a system that selects for wealth, not talent. The industry creates an echo chamber of the affluent.
Stifling the Very Creativity It Claims to Nurture
The irony is that for fields that thrive on fresh perspectives, new voices, and cultural relevance, this practice is actively self-sabotaging. When the pipeline of new talent is exclusively populated by those from a similar socioeconomic background, the creative output becomes homogenous. Art, media, and design begin to reflect only the experiences of a tiny, privileged slice of the population. This starves the industry of the diverse viewpoints that are essential for true innovation. It’s not just unfair to the individuals locked out; it’s bad for the art itself.
This system perpetuates a cycle. Executives and creative directors, who themselves likely started as unpaid interns, see the practice as normal. They “paid their dues,” so why shouldn’t the next generation? This fails to acknowledge rising living costs, crippling student debt, and the changing nature of the work itself. Today’s “intern” is often not just observing; they are coding websites, managing social media accounts, writing copy, and performing tasks that are essential to the company’s operation—work that would otherwise be done by a paid employee.
Legality, Exploitation, and the Power Imbalance
Many companies walk a very thin line, legally speaking. In many jurisdictions, the distinction between a “trainee” and an “employee” is critical. In the United States, for example, the “primary beneficiary test” is used to determine if an intern must be paid. If the employer is the primary beneficiary of the work, the intern is an employee and must be paid minimum wage. If the intern is the primary beneficiary—meaning the internship is highly educational, structured, and mirrors an academic environment—it may be legally unpaid.
The reality in many creative roles is a stark contrast. Interns are often used as free administrative labor or junior staff, tasked with menial jobs like coffee runs or highly skilled work like graphic design and content creation. They are given responsibility without remuneration. This is exploitation, plain and simple.
It is essential for both companies and aspiring creatives to understand the legal and ethical ramifications. If an intern’s work directly contributes to the revenue or operation of the business without a clear, structured educational framework, it crosses the line from internship to unpaid labor. This practice not only exploits the individual but also devalues the creative work of the entire industry. Furthermore, it creates an unfair competitive environment where companies using free labor can undercut those who pay their staff fairly.
Why Does It Persist?
The system endures because of a massive power imbalance. The supply of hopeful creatives vastly outstrips the demand for entry-level positions. Companies know that for every one person who turns down an unpaid role, there are a hundred more lined up, willing to do anything for the opportunity. Interns are terrified of being “difficult” or “ungrateful.” They are in a precarious position, fearing that asking for pay or reporting exploitative conditions will get them blacklisted from an industry they desperately want to join. This culture of silence allows the practice to continue, unchallenged from within.
The Shift: Paying for Talent, Not Just Availability
Fortunately, the tide is beginning to turn. High-profile lawsuits and public call-outs on social media have shamed many large media conglomerates and fashion houses into ending their unpaid programs. Activist groups and industry insiders are increasingly vocal, arguing that talent is everywhere, but opportunity is not.
The business case for paying interns is surprisingly simple, and it’s not just about ethics or legal compliance. When a company offers a paid position, they are no longer limited to the small pool of applicants who can afford to work for free. They open the application process to all qualified candidates. This allows them to hire the best person for the job, not just the wealthiest one. Paid interns are also more invested, more productive, and more likely to be loyal to the company that treated them with respect. It turns the internship into a genuine talent pipeline, a long-term investment rather than a short-term cost-saving measure.
Moving Beyond the All-or-Nothing Model
For smaller businesses, non-profits, or independent artists, the prospect of paying multiple interns may seem impossible. However, the solution isn’t to revert to exploitation. Alternatives exist. Offering stipends to cover basic costs like transportation and lunch is a start. Providing clear, project-based roles with defined mentorship and educational goals can add real, quantifiable value. Remote internships can reduce the cost-of-living barrier, and partnerships with universities for meaningful academic credit (not just as a loophole to avoid pay) can be structured.
Ultimately, the romance of the “starving artist” is a damaging myth that only serves those at the top. The “paying your dues” narrative, when it means working for free, is a relic of a less equitable time. If the creative industries are to survive and thrive, they must stop filtering talent through a sieve of economic privilege. Paying interns is the first, most fundamental step toward building a more innovative, diverse, and ethical future. The passion is free; the labor is not.
