Andrew Eaton: The Prompt

IT'S said often, but is worth repeating. There is no experience in the world like Edinburgh in August. You can see it in the eyes of everyone who arrives here for the first time, giddy with anticipation yet completely unprepared for its sheer scale. You can see it in the enthusiasm of people who are addicted to its buzz and return year after year.

A big part of its thrill, for me, isn't even to do with any of the shows on offer; instead it springs from the knowledge that the city I live in is suddenly full of people who think it's the most exciting place to be in the whole world - and that many of these people are from cities which ordinarily regard themselves as (in Western terms at least) the centre of the cultural universe, such as New York, Los Angeles and London.

For anyone working in the arts in Scotland, this kind of global enthusiasm is a much-needed shot in the arm, especially at a time when the industry is bracing itself for savage funding cuts at every level. The arts, we are being told, need to "share the pain" of the recession. Why should the government protect culture when every other area of public spending is facing radical cuts?

Put like that, it's a difficult argument to oppose without looking self-indulgent. Except that it's a false choice. As the festival proves, year after year, something that is relatively cheap to produce - the Fringe, in particular - can have an impact that is profound and global. Ordinarily, it is much easier to make a connection between pounds spent and, say, the length of a hospital waiting list than it is to say how many people have had their lives enriched, or transformed, by the arts. In Edinburgh in August, though, almost anyone you ask will tell you how much this festival means to them. It is Scotland's brightest, loudest global statement of cultural significance. Memories are made, creative relationships forged, that shape whole lives. The evidence is everywhere you look.

And, it's worth pointing out, in the midst of a global recession the Fringe has increased in size this year, again, and ticket sales are in rude health, again. It's the ideal platform to make the case, loudly and unapologetically, that arts spending - which consists of modest sums yet enriches thousands of lives, enhances this country's reputation globally, and makes money - should be fiercely protected.

• This article was first published in Scotland on Sunday, August 1, 2010