The Future Is Now: Reimagining Museums for a Changing World
The best way to predict the future of museums is to create it
A couple of weeks ago, I had the pleasure of visiting Western Washington University in the beautiful town of Bellingham, Washington, to meet with students and give a public talk on campus. I spent time with students in a museum studies course taught by Ashley Mask—an incredible museum educator and colleague—and we had thoughtful, engaging conversations about the challenges museums and museum professionals are facing today.
That evening, for my public talk, I chose to focus on a topic that has become central to my thinking: radical imagination and envisioning different futures for museums.
This is something I’ve spoken about in multiple talks and written about here at Agents of Change. But as the world around us continues to shift in unpredictable ways, I find myself even more committed to the power and necessity of imagination in shaping the future of our field.
So, I want to take some space here to share & expand upon many of the ideas I discussed in my talk—ideas about how we might push beyond the limits of the present to envision truly transformative possibilities for museums. What does it mean to dream bigger? To step outside of existing models and rethink the role of cultural institutions in our communities?
These are not questions we can answer alone. The work of imagining and building better futures is always collective, and I would love to hear your thoughts, feedback, and insights. Let’s be curious together, ask questions together, imagine together, and continue this conversation together.
The Future Is Now: Reimagining Museums for a Changing World
Four years ago, I published Museums as Agents of Change as a call to action—an argument that museums are not neutral spaces but powerful catalysts for shaping the world around us. I believed then, as I do now, that museums have a responsibility to engage deeply with their communities, to inspire action, and to foster the kind of radical imagination that leads to real change. But today, as I reflect on that work, I recognize that the landscape has shifted in ways that feel both urgent and unsettling.
Right now, things feel stuck. We are in the midst of profound and difficult change—much of it beyond our control. The political landscape within the U.S. is increasingly volatile, and around the world, we are witnessing shifts that threaten progress and the very fabric of democracy. In this context, advocating for museums as catalysts for social change might feel like a message that is out of place. But in reality, it has never been more necessary.
Now is the time to keep pushing forward. Museums are among the few institutions that can still serve as spaces for dialogue, reflection, and imagination—places where we can come together to ask, What if? If we envision museums as community spaces where radical futures are not only imagined but actively built, we can break free from the limitations of our current moment.
Fear, scarcity, and cynicism may seem like natural responses to our present challenges, but we have a choice. We can choose abundance, curiosity, joy, and a resilient sense of imagination. We can choose to insist that museums are not passive observers of history, but active participants in shaping what comes next.
Museums are at a crossroads. In a rapidly changing world, they can either cling to outdated models, entrenched power structures, and legacy narratives that no longer serve us, or they can boldly reimagine their role as dynamic, community-driven spaces that shape a better future. The choice is ours to make—but the time to act is now.
For too long, museums have been defined by their past. They have measured their success by the size of their collections, the number of visitors they attract, and their ability to preserve and interpret history. But what if we measured success differently? What if museums were defined not by what they house, but by what they activate? Not by what they preserve, but by what they inspire? What if museums became spaces where the future was not only imagined but actively built?
I fully acknowledge that museums are operating in an era of financial strain, staff burnout, and institutional uncertainty. Many professionals might read this and think, That’s all well and good, but we barely have the resources to maintain daily operations, let alone reimagine the future. This is a fair and important concern. But reinvention does not always require massive budgets or sweeping overhauls. It often starts with small shifts in thinking, in priorities, in how museums define success. The question is not whether transformation is possible, but what steps—big or small—can we take toward it?
The Missed Portal to a Different Future
The COVID-19 pandemic, which began 5 years ago, cracked open a moment of radical possibility—a portal to a different future. In that intense rupture of trauma and disorder, museums and cultural institutions had the chance to reorder themselves, to shed outdated systems and structures, and step boldly into something new. For a brief time, the old ways were no longer inevitable. The past was no longer a given. The institutions that have long been defined by tradition had, perhaps for the first time in generations, an undeniable opportunity to reinvent themselves.
But instead of leaping into the unknown, most institutions clung to familiarity. The deep human desire to "return to normal" won out. Many museums and cultural institutions rushed back to familiar ways of operating, prioritizing financial recovery and traditional structures over bold reinvention. And so, we turned away from that open door, retreating to the comfort of what had been, rather than embracing what could be.
But what if we had chosen differently? What if we had walked through that portal, not with hesitation, but with conviction? What if museums had reassembled themselves in a new form—one shaped by care, community, and imagination rather than by the inertia of tradition? Could we have built institutions that truly centered our communities and our futures rather than simply preserving the past? If we had dared to dream a braver, bolder future, perhaps we wouldn’t be looking back with regret at the moment that slipped away. Instead, we might already be standing in the future we once wished for—one we not only envisioned, but had the courage to live.
The Power of Radical Imagination
This moment of hesitation, of clinging to the familiar instead of stepping boldly into reinvention, revealed a deeper issue: the limitations of our collective imagination. When faced with disruption, many institutions looked backward rather than forward, prioritizing stability over transformation. But what if we had embraced the unknown? What if, instead of restoring what was, we had committed to imagining what could be?
The future is not something that simply arrives—it is something we shape through our ability to envision new possibilities. And if museums are to truly serve as catalysts for change, they must cultivate and prioritize radical imagination as a fundamental practice.
Historian Robin D.G. Kelley reminds us that “the map to a new world is in the imagination.” Similarly, writer and activist Walidah Imarisha argues that “we can’t build what we can’t imagine.” These insights push us to recognize that the future we long for isn’t something we wait for—it is something we actively create. While our institutions are often focused on preserving the past, they must also serve as incubators of the future. Without the capacity to dream beyond what already exists, we risk replicating the very systems we hope to transform.
The act of imagining is not just about wishful thinking; it is a radical, necessary step toward actual change. If museums are to serve as spaces of transformation, they must embrace imagination not as an afterthought, but as a foundational practice.
Too often, museums operate under a mindset of scarcity—worrying about lack of funding, dwindling attendance numbers, and institutional survival. But what if we redefined museums as Fourth Spaces—places where people come together not just to reflect on history, but to actively envision and build the future?
Seth Goldenberg, in his work on Radical Curiosity, describes Fourth Spaces as sites that are “dedicated to the future … where we reclaim our identity as civic actors responsible for shaping the emergent future.” Unlike traditional institutions that focus on heritage or commerce, Fourth Spaces are designed to be hubs of inquiry, dialogue, and creative experimentation. They are places where people gather to pose big questions, test ideas, and construct new ways of thinking and being.
If museums embraced this identity, they could become living laboratories—places where new models of collaboration, governance, and community engagement could be prototyped in real time. Instead of being guardians of the past, museums could become architects of the future.
Reconnecting Museums with Nature
Museums have long played a role in interpreting and educating about the natural world, but interpretation alone is no longer enough. As we face accelerating climate change, biodiversity loss, and increasing disconnection from the environment, museums must take an active role in restoring and rebuilding our relationship with nature. This means moving beyond traditional exhibitions and engaging directly with land stewardship, sustainability efforts, and ecological education that connects people to the living systems around them.
In her powerful TEDx talk, botanical illustrator Nirupa Rao discusses how much more likely we are to recognize the brands of cars and corporate logos than we are to recognize the types of plants and trees that we might encounter everyday. Early in her talk, she asks:
“What experience with nature will the next generation have? And if that generation lacks a connection with their environment, will they bother to fight and save it when we need it most?”
This question challenges us to consider the role museums have in fostering environmental awareness and action. Too often, museums present nature as something distant—something to be studied rather than lived with. But what if museums helped reawaken our sense of relationship and connection to the natural world? What if they used their physical spaces, programming, and resources to cultivate deeper ecological literacy and responsibility?
Many museums also own land that remains underutilized—parking lots, lawns, courtyards, and rooftops that could be transformed into native habitats, pollinator gardens, meadows, or urban forests. Imagine if every museum planted just one tree each year. Across thousands of institutions, this could have a tangible impact on local ecosystems, air quality, and community well-being.
Some museums are already taking steps in this direction: the Smithsonian Anacostia Community Museum’s Growing Community initiative reclaims urban spaces for food sovereignty, while projects like the California Academy of Sciences’ Wander Woods create immersive natural environments where visitors can engage directly with the land. These efforts model a future where museums are not just spaces for learning about nature, but places for actively repairing and sustaining it.
What Future Are We Creating Today?
Ayana Elizabeth Johnson, marine biologist and environmental policy expert, poses a powerful question: “What if we get this right?” This question is not just about avoiding disaster—it is about envisioning the best possible outcomes for our collective future. Johnson challenges us to think beyond fear and crisis, urging us to imagine a world where we have taken bold, necessary actions to address the challenges before us. Her work in ocean conservation underscores the importance of long-term thinking and the power of collective effort. She reminds us that change is not just about preventing harm, but about actively building something better—something rooted in care, sustainability, and a commitment to future generations.
Museums, in many ways, are uniquely positioned to be spaces for this kind of future-oriented thinking. They have the ability to bring people together, to foster dialogue, and to create environments where we can engage with both history and possibility. But this requires museums to move beyond their traditional roles and to embrace their potential as spaces where imagination and action intersect.
One institution that exemplifies this approach is the Museum of Homelessness (MOH) in Finsbury Park, London. I was fortunate enough to visit MOH last summer, and learn from their inspiring team. Instead of being a museum about homelessness, it is a living, evolving space that is created by and with people who have lived experience with homelessness. Through exhibitions, archives, and direct community support, MOH challenges traditional museum models by centering those most affected by the issues it seeks to address. It is a space where community care and activism intersect—where imagination is used not only to reframe narratives but to drive real-world change. This is what it looks like when a museum moves beyond preserving history to shaping the future.
The future is not an abstract concept—it is shaped by the choices we make today. If museums commit to fostering creativity, curiosity, and resilience, they can serve as vital gathering places where communities come together to envision and work toward a future that is more just, sustainable, and connected.
The question is not just “what if we get this right?” but “what will it take for us to make this future a reality?” And how do we ensure that the steps we take now are moving us closer to that vision?
To get there, we must first ask ourselves some tough questions:
What legacy narratives are holding museums back?
What would it look like to let go of outdated institutional norms and embrace radical transformation?
How can we reimagine museums as dynamic, community-driven spaces rather than institutions that simply house collections?
A Call to Action
The best way to predict the future is to create it. If we want museums to be catalysts for change, we must start acting as if that future is already possible. This means rejecting the idea that transformation is something distant or unattainable and instead embracing the mindset that museums can and must play an active role in shaping what comes next.
Every decision we make today—whether it is reimagining how museums engage with communities, using institutional resources to support local initiatives, challenging outdated structures, or even just planting a tiny community garden—creates ripples that shape the future. The changes we need will not happen overnight, but they will not happen at all unless we begin.
So what can we do right now?
Interrogate outdated assumptions: Identify one entrenched narrative in your institution and start rewriting it. If your museum has always been about collections, how can it become about connections? If it has always been about education, how can it also be about activation?
Practice radical imagination: Gather your team and ask, What if? Encourage museum staff, volunteers, and visitors to brainstorm futures that are not constrained by current realities. What if your museum were to embrace a completely new model of engagement? What would that look like? Don’t ever be afraid of dreaming.
Commit to action: Small steps build momentum. Whether it is inviting community voices into decision-making, reallocating resources toward new initiatives, or rethinking the role of museums in environmental stewardship, take a step—however small—toward making change real.
A better future for museums is not some distant possibility. It is something we create through our choices, our actions, and our willingness to dream. The portal to a different future is still open. When will we choose to step through it?