A country that bursts
This country no longer fits in its own skin. And it is not that it is full of joy. Quite the contrary: Spain has not been able to adapt to its exceptional demographic growth, the largest in the European Union, and the seams are bursting.
Since Pedro Sánchez came to power in 2018, the Spanish population has increased by 2.2 million people. This is equivalent to the sum of the populations of Valencia, Zaragoza, and Seville. Without the corresponding investments for this pace, services and infrastructure can no longer cope. The same can be said of Catalonia, which has 657,000 more inhabitants than in 2018. That is to say, almost the sum of Terrassa, Sabadell, and Badalona.
The demographic phenomenon, obviously due to immigration, has fostered notable growth in the economy (2.5 in 2026, according to estimates by the International Monetary Fund) and a record collection by the Treasury: 149,000 million in the first half of this year.
But good macroeconomic data are not reflected in an increase in general well-being. Housing is lacking (even though construction accounts for more than 4% of the gross domestic product), public healthcare and education are visibly limping (even though they squeeze their workers more and more), and there is no need to dwell on the shortcomings of internal transport infrastructure: the railways, whether fast or slow, long or short distance, are a disaster splattered with horrible accidents, and the roads are poorly maintained.
The growth of the population and the demand for services has not had budgetary support. Pedro Sánchez's government has not managed to approve a general state budget since December 2022, when there were a million fewer citizens.
The budgets of the Generalitat de Catalunya for 2026, approved in July, give an idea of the accumulated lag: after three blank years, spending has increased by 22.8% compared to 2023. And yet, it is not enough.
All of this seems to have no importance in an electoral pre-campaign (the real frenzy has not yet begun) that looks like a rollercoaster of emotions.
We barely remember the flood of immigrants in Ceuta, which three months ago was interpreted as an existential crisis. Then the difficult-to-define Maricarmen phenomenon burst in, with which they wanted to characterize the housing problem, something that pushed Sánchez to call elections in a social climate that he considered favorable to his interests. Suddenly, the outbreak of adolescent violence and urban looting emerged, convened by something mysterious and suspicious that calls itself Blocus. The terrible train accident in Urda (when we were already forgetting the one in Adamuz, which occurred in January, in prehistory) has meant, for the moment, a new turn.
Everything is at once very serious and ephemeral.
No government will be capable of solving deep-seated problems, from housing to transport, passing through healthcare and education, in just four years.
Whether the PP-Vox bloc wins, as seems quite possible, perhaps more tinged with the far-right than we now suspect, or whether there is a re-edition (more unlikely) of the diverse coalition around the PSOE, the investment deficit aggravated by the demographic gallop will weigh on the central and regional administrations in the foreseeable future.
Pedro Sánchez's record is poor. The prospect offered by the PP and Vox, inclined (although they do not offer a concrete framework) towards budget cuts and privatizations, does not induce optimism at a time when public spending must be massively increased (and with better distribution).
The problems are so enormous that perhaps the most practical thing will be, as until now, to rely on emotions and not think too much: the outlook is dizzying.
