Charging for fibre ducting: the neighbours' war in Spain

Charging for fibre ducting: the neighbours' war in Spain

A homeowner paid 300 euros out of his own pocket for underground ducting a decade ago. When operators started hanging fibre across his façade without written permission, he decided enough was enough. The industry's response was the expected one: administrative silence and a pair of shears as the final argument. The episode, which begins with a neighbour's complaint and ends with the local police involved, sums up a conflict repeated on thousands of streets: who pays for the infrastructure and who pockets the profit.

What the law says about wiring on façades

Spain's Ley 9/2014 General de Telecomunicaciones (the country's general telecommunications law), in articles 45.4 and 45.5, requires the operator to notify the homeowners' association or the building owner in writing, with a technical project included, before installing the final network segments. The text says nothing about verbal notice or asking a single neighbour for permission. It speaks of prior written consent.

The problem is that such notification rarely arrives. The subcontractors deploying the fibre usually work by piece rate, with incentives for metres installed, and the quick route is stapling the cable to the façade. Underground ducting requires a municipal works permit, a bond for the metres of pavement to be dug up, and weeks of paperwork. The façade, by contrast, can be sorted out in an afternoon.

Some argue that the operator may occupy private property if there are no economically viable alternatives, as the law itself provides. Against that stands a detail technicians tend to overlook: a viable alternative did exist. It was buried under a paving tile, paid for by the residents, and nobody asked.

The owner's calculation: 100 euros of tubing and rent still owed

The affected owner's breakdown is simple. Thirty metres of façade, three tubes — two for electricity and one for telecommunications — a 300-euro investment split between two neighbours. The share attributable to the fibre is 100 euros. His proposal: charge rent for the use of that ducting, along the lines of the 6 euros per metre per month that, according to one participant, is paid in some cases for using someone else's infrastructure.

The figure is not arbitrary. Telefónica charges 18 euros for the basic phone line. Having the operator pay 6 for using a tube it did not install does not seem far-fetched. What the owner will not accept is having his infrastructure used on the cheap and then being expected to say thank you.

The comparison with drinking water is inevitable. No water supplier hangs pipes across façades to save itself the trench. They open the street, lay ducting and repair. The difference is that water does not have a law allowing it to occupy private property with a burofax (a certified urgent-notice service).

From threat to cut: the timeline of a neighbourhood standoff

The process had several phases. First, the verbal warning to the technicians: seven days to remove the cable. Then, the complaint to the local police and a letter signed by residents revoking any prior consent. Finally, the cut. The owner unstapled 30 metres of cable, removed the junction box and left the installation out of service.

The operator's reaction was the expected one: a threat to sue for leaving neighbours without communications. The owner's legal argument is that a cable installed without written consent confers no rights whatsoever. The local police, according to his account, ended up advising him to file a complaint himself.

The immediate outcome was a improvised workaround: the technicians crossed the street at another point, drilling into other people's façades. Two affected homeowners' associations announced complaints over unauthorised works and cracks in the walls. They avoided one front and peine three.

What happens if you cut the fibre cable on your façade

There is no single answer. The law allows the operator to occupy private property when there is no viable alternative, but requires prior written notification. If that notification does not exist, the installation is irregular. That is another matter from whether cutting it is advisable: the owner risks a damages claim and a conflict with neighbours left without service.

The safest route is administrative: a complaint to the town hall, a formal demand to the operator and, if it persists, a civil claim. Cutting the cable directly works in practice, but turns the affected party into the villain of the story. And in a building with connected neighbours, that carries weight.

The fibre business and who pays for the infrastructure

Fibre rollout in Spain has been carried out, in large part, across other people's façades with verbal permissions. Operators save on trenches, permits and bonds. Owners who paid for ducting years ago never see a euro. And town councils, which require ducting in new construction, look the other way when fibre arrives through the air.

The paradox is that the end user does not win either. Even though his façade holds up the cable, there is no discount on the bill. The savings stay with the operator. The investment, with the owner. Penny-pinching all round.

The prediction, with reservations: as long as the law allows façades to be occupied with a notification that hardly anyone demands, the cable will keep hanging. The cuts will be anecdotal. So will the lawsuits. And the ducting the residents paid for will remain empty, waiting for someone to decide that using it comes at a price.