Spain at the bottom: economic gloom becomes chronic

Spain at the bottom: economic pessimism is now an epidemic

Spain boasts about life expectancy, sunshine and terraces. But the country's economic conversation has taken a grim turn: young people cannot move out, wages do not cover rent and the grocery bill has become a recurring problem. The discontent is not new, but its intensity is: the perception that Spain is one of the worst countries in the developed world is spreading fast. Exaggeration or a symptom of something deeper?

The diagnosis: work, housing and food

The blunt starting point: precarious or poorly paid work, wages that do not stretch to an apartment and impossible housing. Add the cost of food, with cuts in both quality and quantity: meat, fish and fruit out of reach for many families. The international comparison stings: while a simple set menu in China costs around 2 euros, in Spain it is closer to 12. In terms of purchasing power, the average Spaniard has lost ground against other countries.

The debate takes on a generational edge: those worst off are the under-40s, who live with the uncertainty of never being able to start a family. Meanwhile, the over-50s enjoy generous public pensions (some collect 3,000 euros a month) and accumulate wealth: three or four owned properties. The gap between generations is increasingly an abyss.

Failed state or country in crisis? The doomsayer and the sceptic

Positions are polarising. On one side are those who argue Spain has crossed a line: the storming of the Ceuta border fence, blackouts remembered with unease and a sense that citizens are left unprotected lead them to openly speak of a failed state. Ironies aside, they point out that even the football World Cup cannot mask the slide down the real quality-of-life rankings.

On the opposite side are those calling for perspective: Spain is still in the world's top 50, they recall, and there are countries with far graver problems. The nuance: within the first world, Spain is no longer near the top. The pessimism, they say, is somewhat parochial: you travel to Eastern Europe and realise people complain there too.

Emigrating: the old escape route that is no longer so easy

Spain's history teaches that when things turn ugly, the suitcase comes out. But the current analysis knocks down that escape route: rents in Eastern capitals such as Bucharest, Warsaw or Prague have risen between 40% and 60% since 2015. They are no longer the bargain they once were. Options remain in Spain's emptied-out interior: Burgos and Palencia emerge as low-cost refuges with factories (Renault, Grupo Antolín, Leche Pascual) that are still going strong. But a population density of 12 inhabitants per square kilometre and the cold are tolls many are unwilling to pay. Curiously, a video of a young Eastern European man declaring himself unable to pick up anyone in Barcelona because of how closed-off locals are has become a symbol of social frustration. Paradise, in short, no longer exists anywhere.

The political factor and social apathy

In parallel, the political management is drawing harsh criticism: corruption, lack of institutional respect and a sense that the ruling class does as it pleases. References to Prime Minister Sánchez and the possibility that the PP (the main conservative party) may replace him fuel the idea that the parties are part of the problem, not the solution. Society, they say, is individualised: everyone in their own bubble, headphones on, incapable of protesting. The memory of the pandemic, when people in France took to the streets while here they applauded at eight o'clock, is used as an example of that apathy.

The question left hanging is uncomfortable: if the discontent is so widespread, why are the terraces still full and people carrying on through the summer as if nothing were happening? The contradiction goes unresolved, but the unease has already taken hold. How long that unstable balance can hold, nobody knows.