The energetic ones

Film and television series are, without a doubt, cultural and sociological products that, regardless of their artistic value—little or not—explain different keys to interpreting a historical or future process in its social, economic, and political aspects from different perspectives. From the reality they represent to how they recreate it, and something that can never be forgotten, both in politics and communication, when facing a crisis: they describe, analyze, and, above all, "construct reality," helping to shape what happened or will happen, even if it never happens or never happened.

In the wake of the "great blackout," many Spaniards have dusted off films and series like the vademecum that anticipated the tragedy: The Blackout , The Eternalauta , and Day Zero . Electrical dystopias that now seem less implausible. And yet, given the reactions in Spain this first week after the "blackout," and beyond the logical questions about what happened that the authorities will have to explain, we must admit that our political debate hasn't been much like that of the international series. It's far from a dystopia. In less than 24 hours, power was restored. Rather, the debate was reminiscent of that of those two rustic men, polarized for centuries (thus begins the film), played by Fernando Esteso and Andrés Pajares in Los energéticas , when they learn that a nuclear power plant is going to be built on their land.

Nuclear power? The debate that always comes back . There's been more talk about nuclear power plants than about the energy model we want. With "energy people" like those of yesteryear, adding insult to injury. With indecipherable Newspeak, like in the film, which premiered in 1979, coinciding with the oil crisis . Confusing the debate with a self-interest that's useless, since it's only noticeable at times. What do we Spaniards today have to do with the society described in The Energizers ? Nothing, but we need to break the fourth wall. We need to meet the replacement schedule.

There has been more talk about nuclear power plants than about the energy model we want.

Was there an excess of renewable energy before the blackout? The technical answer must be resounding: no. Just one fact: of the 2,808 hours of operation from January 1 to April 27, on almost 200 occasions (189, specifically), national renewable energy exceeded 75%, well above the blackout figures. Renewables work, and trust is proven. The chaos has originated in another direction.

The cultural response must therefore be forceful: the largest mobilization of investment in renewables in history. There must be more electrical grid, less speculation—which exists—decisions must be made about how we operate, who decides, what energy is supplied, and also about local consumption or the massive introduction of batteries to control power surges and consumption. And what, from these bases, in this ecological transition we are undergoing, is Spain's response to a critical moment, how we operate more effectively across all technologies until there is more consumption. This political response defines the society we are today, not the one we have already left behind.

We must think big and be different to achieve the energy sovereignty that is within our grasp. It is, therefore, a debate about how we bring this renewable future to the present. Generation is not the same; it is no longer produced where it was before, and we must purify energy like water. This means synchronizing frequency through more investment. As you can see, this is an economic and political debate. What we have experienced in Spain is not a dystopia. The blackout also tells us that we must move faster in investments.

We must think big and be different to achieve the energy sovereignty that is in our hands.

Last week, we told you that the three conceptual axes of the moment were, in this order, "vulnerable, marginalized, and migrant." All public debates will revolve around this strategic driver, from the election of the new Pope to the energy blackout. And in crises, what happens precisely is that, in the blink of an eye, we recognize ourselves as more vulnerable, more marginalized, more migrant, with all our social failings and inner demons, made in Spain . Connecting with society today requires a different kind of political communication. On the day of the blackout, millions of people wondered at some point if our political representatives were telling us the whole truth and if we were the target of a cyberattack. They are the ones who will decide the cultural victory first, and then the political one.

Next week Iceberg

Why, if Spain pays its bills and fulfills its commitments, would 15% of the electorate today vote for the authoritarian right? This, like the tip of the iceberg, is what we see, what floats on the surface. It is technically the demand for discontent expressed through the supply of discontent. And the rest of the resentment in Spain? What is it about the iceberg we don't see, but is there? This isn't about management, but about strong leadership that makes sense to the electorates who demand decisiveness and effectiveness in addressing the challenges they face.

The Hawkeye Theory of suspicion

The virus of resentment is spreading. The thesis: we're not safe, we don't have a place in the world, and we're not being told the whole truth. The MAGA movement and that of the authoritarians rest on this kind of theory of suspicion. Three words: Wuhan, Soros, and the 2030 agenda. The mockery of the EU's survival kit is still fresh in our minds, and after the blackout, many will have found themselves trapped in this mindset of the authoritarian right. It's time for political communicators to unravel them.