Solidarity against confrontation
The polarization of society is no longer a theoretical construct that sociologists warn about. It is a palpable and seemingly undeniable reality. We have to grapple with it every day to swallow the information bombardment we are subjected to and avoid dying of indigestion. The dialectical battle between different political families—not ideological ones—makes sensible dialogue seem impossible, almost a relic of the past. Collaboration? Unthinkable. And solidarity between strangers? Science fiction.
Nothing could be further from the truth. Behind the thick layer of smoke generated by the energy burned in favor of confrontation lies a remarkably supportive social fabric. Solidarity among individuals extends throughout the territory and knows no age, gender, or social conditions; it is widespread among the population as a whole. However, a small group of "super-donors" stands out. The top 10% of donors contribute practically half of everything given. This "small" group stands out for the regularity with which they make charitable donations—more than once a month—and for their financial commitment: they give an average of 5.4% of their income. Superdonors are generally older (85% are over 50), but they are not necessarily the highest earners. They belong to the older middle class. Almost half of these superdonors have an annual income between €20,000 and €40,000. In fact, as their income increases, their financial commitment to charity tends to decrease. The wealthiest individuals give only 0.5% to charitable causes.
These are some of the main findings of a study conducted jointly by CaixaBank Research and Pompeu Fabra University, which has built a new anonymized database from the millions of donations made in Spain through bank transactions (transfers, Bizum, direct debits, etc.). The data also show that the network of associations that channels this solidarity is highly fragmented, with many NGOs spread across the country. This high degree of dispersion helps ensure that donations reach every corner of Spain and that solidarity can be tailored to all the causes that need it. At the same time, there is a very small core of organizations—1% of the total—that channels nearly 80% of all charitable resources. This hierarchical structure also appears to be relevant, both for mobilizing resources and for reaching a wider audience. Furthermore, it is clear that 90% of donations are allocated to four main causes: international cooperation, healthcare, social services, and religion.
The strength of this network of solidarity and associations becomes evident when events mobilize the population en masse. It is evident every year with La Marató de TV3, the Gran Recapte, and countless other examples. It also becomes clear during emergencies, such as the devastating floods in the Valencian Community in 2024, which mobilized hundreds of thousands of people and triggered a surge in donations: local charities saw their fundraising increase by 45%. The wave of solidarity spread throughout the region, but geographical proximity made a difference: those living between 100 and 200 kilometers from the epicenter multiplied their contributions by 1.8 times.
Solidarity begins with a small, individual gesture. But what at first glance seems like a chain of isolated gestures takes on a greater significance: it is the lifeblood of social capital, an invisible network that unites people, sustains mutual trust, and ultimately, the institutions we have created. Citizen participation in collective decision-making, the existence of channels for getting involved in common issues, or the simple conviction that neighbors and strangers alike respond to adversity build a more resilient social fabric. This active solidarity not only increases collective well-being but also creates a favorable climate for successfully facing the shared challenges of our time. The contrast with the confrontation we witness daily is enormous, and it allows us to look to the future with a bit more hope.