Immigrants and extreme penny-pinching: a lesson in saving or freeloading

Immigrants' group buying at Mercamadrid ignites the debate on saving in times of crisis

It was 7 in the morning on a December day in 2010. Samuel Prado and Francisco Javier Vélez, Colombians aged 51 and 42, were waiting in the Mercamadrid parking lot after collecting their unemployment benefits. They were not alone: five families, four of them immigrant and one Spanish, had joined forces to buy wholesale. The idea: cut out the middlemen and save. Daniel Ayllón's article in El Confidencial presented them as pioneers of 'lonchafinismo' – that ability to stretch the household budget to unsuspected limits – and sparked a discussion that, fifteen years later, is still going strong.

Innovation or forced survival?

The concept is nothing new. In times of scarcity, group buying has been a constant all over the world. But the context of the 2008 crisis put the spotlight on immigrants as trailblazers of a trend many Spaniards were slow to adopt. While some saw these informal cooperatives as a lesson in efficiency – "tightening our belts and waking up our ingenuity", as an analysis of the time put it – others denounced it as nothing more than freeloading. "Free education, free healthcare, free subsidies... now that's penny-pinching!", the critics quipped, pointing out that the real saving came from abusing public services.

The 'señoritismo' (entitled gentlemanly attitude) as a cultural barrier

One of the sharpest reflections pointed to the difficulty Spaniards have in organizing into cooperatives. "Even in the direst misery, we will always be little lords", one observer lamented. The culture of individualism – or 'marxism', as it was labelled at the time – clashes with the need to band together to negotiate prices. While immigrants, used to extreme situations in their countries of origin, apply inherited survival tactics, the average Spanish citizen still prefers the comfort of the neighbourhood supermarket. "They were born in the middle of Mad Max", one participant summed up graphically. "They survived and made it this far – that alone earns them the rank of Jedi knight of survival."

The numbers don't always add up

But real savings have their limits. Going to Mercamadrid requires paying an entrance fee (about 3 euros), buying whole crates, having a van and spending hours distributing the goods. A detailed analysis showed that the margin is not as large as it seems: the discount is around 30% on fruit and vegetables, but it does not always make up for the logistical effort. What's more, bulk buying demands coordination and giving up variety. "Why are there hardly any cooperatives that last in Spain?", someone asked. The answer: differing tastes, distrust and lack of time.

The final paradox

Fifteen years on, the debate is still open. The immigrants proved – at least back in 2010 – that necessity sharpens ingenuity. But they also showed that the formula has an expiry date: as the crisis eased, many of those informal cooperatives dissolved. What remains is an uncomfortable lesson: the 'lonchafinismo' so applauded in speeches clashes with the reality of a society that, in the words of one commenter, "would rather watch Esteban on TV than organize itself". And meanwhile, the eye-opening fact: the savings from that joint purchase barely exceeded 50 euros per family. Much ado about very little.

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