Jordi González: "'Collapse' is my epilogue, I won't do any other shows."

BarcelonaAfter hosting television programs for forty years, Jordi González is giving his own personal victory lap at TV3, with a program that he has been able to tailor to his needs. Collapse It's getting good ratings, and in this conversation, the presenter asserts his experience, talks about a health scare that kept him in a coma for weeks, and reviews his career at the helm of countless formats.

"Now I'll be less González and more Jordi." These are your words after overcoming a serious illness. Are you living up to them?

— I think so, because I'm staying true to myself, which is TV3, and it's a program directed and presented by me, without much of a script, not the constraints of a fixed format. I say what I think in the language I think.

You've done a lot...

— 74!

Do you think that what you're doing now would be what best represents you then?

— Probably, yes. I make the show I want to make, with the people I want to make it with, and with the maturity that forty years in television have given me. I was going to say security, but no, because the insecurity is the same as on the first day. Now, thinking about it more, perhaps I'd say that the show that best represents me is L1,000 and onewhich was made 25 years ago here on TV3. It was the first late night in Catalonia and there I discovered that television was a fantastic invention, where you could do things with imagination and take risks.

The program championed "creatures of the night." Did you want to give visibility to a type of character that, until then, hadn't had a place on television?

— Yes, yes, of course. The creatures of the night were any living being that didn't sleep. And this included everyone from newspaper employees, who back then were in the newsroom until 4 a.m., to people who put on makeup to perform in a cabaret. The most absolute diversity was encompassed by the term "people who don't sleep."

And do you sleep or not?

— I don't sleep very well because I've always worked nights. I go to bed late, and I spent nine years living between Madrid and Miami, commuting twice a month, which really affects my sleep patterns. I don't sleep very well, but I feel fine. I've been sick before and had to sleep for many days, even weeks, so I've slept more than enough.

Are you fully recovered?

— Yes of course.

Have you experienced any psychological impact from being close to death?

— The trauma was what scared me most, but I followed my psychologist's instructions. He told me, "When possible, get on a plane and go to where all this happened," which is in Colombia. And I did it this summer. I was able to walk up those streets I couldn't walk before because I was sick and had trouble breathing. Not singing, but I walked up them. And I haven't had any nightmares since.

Is it true that you were going there as a philosopher?

— Well, I studied philosophy. I started out studying information science, and my mother, who was very intelligent, noticed I was getting a bit bored with that degree. Because, of course, her friends' children would dedicate themselves to studying before exams, and she realized I wasn't. "But in this degree you're doing, don't you study?" she asked me, and I told her not much. She then asked if I was enjoying it, and I told her I'd like to study more. And so I also pursued the other degree. However, at 17, I started working at Radio Popular.

How do you go from philosophy, which is commonly associated with introspection, to entertainment, which is the complete opposite?

— Well, the same person who reads the ARA newspaper in the morning listens in the afternoon The window from SER and at night he watches a comedy on a platform, or one reality on TV. We are not a single viewer, nor a single communicator: we are several in one.

If I draw a line between introvert and extrovert, would you place yourself at one point or would you say it depends on the moment?

— I'm an introvert, I'm shy. I find it really hard to break the ice... but not in front of a camera. I'm more authentic on camera. In real life, it's much harder for me. I've never been out on camera, I'm embarrassed, I have insecurities... But not in front of the camera. Well, not at the most intimate level with friends and family, but between the people who know me and those who watch me on TV, the people who watch me on TV know more about me.

You have been very protective of your private life.

— Yes, but this is easy. Well, no, it's not easy. Quite the opposite, it's difficult. Because you're often tempted to commercialize your private life. Or your personal life, which isn't the same thing. Now, when you're able to say no to a magazine that offers you a fortune to take a picture of you next to a Christmas tree and to say that it's your house, and all you have to do is go and let them take the picture... well, it's hard to give up those 15,000 euros. But saying no to things like that is what gives you the certainty that they won't bother you anymore.

Have you ever felt uncomfortable on any of the shows you've hosted?

— Yes. There's a show I did in 2006 that featured witnesses. It's about shamelessly exposing other people's feelings, frustrations, and misfortunes. And a good witness presenter—which I'll never be—is someone who makes the person telling their story cry. But I find it very embarrassing when people cry on TV, so if they did, I'd be there with them and try to hold them back: "Don't cry." And, of course, they'd say to me through the earpiece: "What do you mean, don't?! Let her cry, let her cry!" Anyway, I felt uncomfortable and managed to quit after six months.

You've been at Telecinco for many years. What's the best and worst thing about that behemoth?

— Twenty-two years, that's what it was. The best thing about Telecinco is its speed. They can decide today, Thursday, that they'll do a show, and by Monday they have it up and running. And the worst thing about Telecinco is that there are too few studios for such a large production, and it's obvious that you're filming a show on a set that was used for something else the day before.

Presenting Noria You experienced an advertiser boycott. They were protesting the interview with the mother of the man who covered up Marta del Castillo's murder. Have you reflected on that moment?

— I always stand by what I present, whether or not I'm responsible for it. In that case, I won't lie to you, it was a program produced by a company in which I had no involvement or say in the content. The boycott happened because it came out that the interview had been paid for. That was the serious mistake. It's awful to pay the mother of someone who covered something up. But if I arrive and find the mother of someone who covered something up sitting in the chair and I have to interview her... I'll do my job as best I can, right? And I did it well.

But the internet exploded, as the saying goes.

— At that time, social media was just starting to take off, and people were joining without any instructions. But yes, a campaign grew, fueled... Well, I don't have proof, but I think it was fueled by competition from Mediaset. And it reached an absolutely unprecedented extreme, where advertising was blocked and all the brands withdrew. This led the CEO, Paolo Vasile, to declare that, by his balls, the program would not be cancelled. We went a year and a half without advertisers until, one day in November, El Corte Inglés aired the first ad. And only then, from that moment on, was it decided to replace the program with another one, which was called The great debate, which I did for 3 years.

Luis Rubiales is on tour these days, presenting his book. Would you interview him?

— Yes, yes.

Even though he has been convicted of sexual assault.

— I'll interview him, even if he's someone I personally detest. My limit is that I won't debate things that, in my opinion, shouldn't be debated. I've had plenty of debates in my life, but I've never had one about the death penalty, because I never want to give a platform to anyone who defends it. I've never had a debate about democracy: that's not up for debate. I refuse to give anyone a reason to deny it.

Last week, the program was criticized on social media for lumping Jordi Pujol and the former king together in a program about corruption. Do you defend this decision as well?

— Yes, the decision was mine, but it's not exactly like that. The link between these two lives is the year 2014, which connects both figures: one had to abdicate as king, and the other had his title of "Honorable" revoked. And, since then, both have tried to clean up their legacy, as is natural. Pujol has done so in a much more discreet way, while the other has written a book that makes no sense whatsoever, in which he insults everyone, and he considers that he only made a few mistakes. But the topic was of interest, and that's proven by the record-breaking ratings.

Do you think these criticisms of social media are spontaneous, or are there people who are out to get them? Collapse?

— There's a bit of everything. Watching TV and being online at the same time feels cumbersome to me, but some people enjoy it that way. There are people who watch a three-hour program just to find a line they can use to tear the other person apart. It's a phenomenon. hater.

And do you notice it more in Catalonia or in Spain?

— I don't notice it because I left social media three or four years ago. Look, there will always be political parties or stances against TV3, no matter who's in charge. If one side is in charge, the other will make a fuss. And when the other side is in charge, it'll be one of them doing it. But this has been happening on public television since I was a kid, and I've been in television for forty years now.

Some people criticized your signing because they saw it as a symptom of the Castilianization of TV3.

— Well, in Parliament, the director of TV3 was asked about my hiring, and it was pointed out that I wasn't exactly what you'd call a pro-independence supporter. And I can't answer that because I've never said who I vote for, what I pray for, what I earn, or who I sleep with. But I don't know how someone who represents so many citizens as a member of Parliament can associate a surname ending in Z with the Spanishization of TV3. But perhaps Catalonia is much bigger than that. After all, Catalonia has had an Andalusian president, for crying out loud.

One of your last experiences was very brief, at TVE. It was called The La1 square and it didn't even last two weeks.

— We made seven shows, imagine that. That's when a new management team arrived at Spanish television, and they were in a huge rush to get everything working. They'd launch shows and then cancel them mercilessly, without a second thought. In fact, not long ago they launched a show on Saturday night, Eva Soriano's show, and they've only made two, just two. I also thought that public television needed to be a little more patient, but when you apply the methods and structures of private television to public broadcasting, you understand that if you don't perform, you're fired. And nothing happens: a show is just a show. It's not a favor, it's not a family member, it's not a friend. The only thing you know for sure when you start a show is that one day it will end.

When someone signs you up for a show, what do you think they're looking for?

— I don't know... Maybe it's the effectiveness of many years. Some will see talent, and others will know that even if all the guests drop out, I'll still get the show done, even if it means interviewing the audience or the cameras. I'll figure something out, but we'll do it. I think that's it: the guarantee that I won't throw in the towel or walk off the set.

How many times more does Spanish private education pay than Catalan public education?

— They don't pay the same anymore. I started at Telecinco in 1998 and they paid me a fortune. The contributors, when they went on a program like NoriaThey used to earn 1,500 euros. Now they're paying 300, 200. I joined Telecinco during a golden age, when they also signed Ana Rosa, Jesús Vázquez, Piqueras, and me. Vasile used to tell us we were the aristocracy of television. After 2000, salaries started to moderate.

Could you reveal what your highest salary has been?

— In 1999 he was earning 20 million pesetas.

That's 120,000 euros. Per season?

— By program, by program.

After forty years on television, you'll have a good cushion.

— Oh, I have to say that I've paid everything I owed to the tax authorities, you know? Because I think it's better to pay taxes than penalties. I've never paid a fine. But don't think I'm left with much! I wasn't earning this much back in 2002. And when the crisis hit, they cut everyone's pay by 50%.

You're 64 years old. That's 65 minus one. Are you thinking about retirement?

— Yes, I was supposed to retire a while ago. And after the illness I had earlier this year, I already told the people around me that I was leaving work. I have money, I don't have children, so go for it. But then the offer from TV3 came along, and wow, it's a reputable program, with an audience, that has proven its worth, and it's in Catalonia and in Catalan. And I'm not just presenting, I'm also the director. I thought: take it because it's a satisfying way to end my career.

Is this your epilogue?

— Yes, of course, sure. We can have this written in writing before a notary. Collapse This is my epilogue. It may last three months or three years, but I won't do another show.

And the next day?

— The next day I'm going to Japan, which I haven't been to yet.

And two days later?

— I want to learn English and learn to cook. These are the three things I set out to do when I was 40, and I still haven't been able to.

You, who have met everyone in the business, what's the best and worst advice you've ever received?

— The best advice I received came from Jesús Hermida. He told me: "The camera doesn't take a portrait, it takes an X-ray." And I won't name the author of the worst advice, but someone told me:Don't do 'Big Brother', it won't go well for you...And I did it for sixteen years.

Do you ever call him to remind him of the bad prediction?

— No, I don't hold grudges at all. I'm even giving an interview to a newspaper that occasionally insults me!

He doesn't insult you, he criticizes you.

— Okay... and he insults me, saying there's disrespect involved. When you read that I ask childish questions... well, I think that's offensive. But whatever.

How do you handle criticism?

— I only care about the criticism I receive from three people, who are the ones I trust and love.

Can we name them?

— My friend Eva, my friend Jaime's wife... and well, the criticisms I got from the smartest person in this industry, Joan Ramon Mainat. He was a very good friend of mine, but he gave me incredibly harsh critiques that were so insightful they were worth printing and framing. Now, the criticisms I get from a publication... they don't affect me anymore. When I was little they did, but not anymore. Neither positive nor negative. I'm more affected by the audience. I'm serious. If we get good ratings: that matters to me. Because I connect with the audience. If we get bad ratings, I'm like those Barcelona fans who don't eat dinner when Barça loses.

So, is it all for the sake of ratings?

— No, but it affects me a lot. I think that if you make a show with a large audience, you're making the best show.

Should television make us better people?

— It made me a better person.

I was referring to the viewer.

— No, television should do two fundamental things: inform and entertain. But there are many ways to entertain, and everyone chooses what suits them best. I'm not entertained by disaster movies or gore films, but they have to be made because some people find them entertaining. It must be clear once and for all that television's mission is not to educate. Education happens at home and in schools. We'd be in a bad way if a household appliance had to educate us!