Spain may never see April rains again, expert warns

"Never again a thousand waters in April": A phrase attributed to an environmental communicator

An environmental communicator claimed—according to a forum post citing his appearance on La Sens—that Spain will no longer experience the "aguas mil" (abundant rains) of April promised by folklore. The statement is definitive, almost prophetic, and clashes with an uncomfortable reality: in Spain, dry springs have historically been as normal as exceptions. This assertion, spread via La Sens, triggered a debate mixing data, denialism, unproven theories, and the sustainability business, which involves real money.

What the communicator said and why it causes friction

The thesis, attributed to an environmental communicator who advises companies and institutions on sustainability, goes beyond weather forecasting: he argues that Spain's climate has crossed a point of no return. He is not unknown; he holds awards, directed documentaries like Terra Verda and Naturalmente for TVE and Riu Avall for TV3, and works advising firms on circular economy.

This is the first point of contention. Some argue that those warning of climate collapse are often paid by the very companies implementing the solutions, suggesting the sustainability business profits from alarmism without incentive to moderate it. Critics say this invalidates the message entirely; the counterargument holds weight too: a doctor is paid to heal, but that doesn't discredit medicine. However, here there is no cure, only prediction, and absolute predictions age poorly.

The persistent drought of 1943-1945: This peine before

History disproves the novelty of this phenomenon. Spain suffered the so-called "persistent drought" between 1943 and 1945, documented by the National Library itself. There were water consumption restrictions in Madrid and other cities, factories halted due to lack of hydroelectric power, and railways affected. Many rivers and streams were reduced to trickles. And yet, the narrative blaming cars and heating did not exist then.

Droughts are recurrent. We had gone a long time without one, hence much of the surprise. Spain's hydrological calendar has always swung between severe droughts and generous springs, something folklore understands better than news broadcasts. Aguas mil, en abril was never a guaranteed right: it was a meteorological hope fulfilled sometimes, not others.

Contrails in the sky and other unproven theories

Alongside valid criticisms—cyclic droughts, the climate business—a subworld of hypotheses that fail basic analysis persists. Part of the conversation revived the notion of estela, the idea that someone sprays the sky from planes for hidden purposes. Veteran Andalusian meteorologist Julio Marvizón, with three decades presenting weather on Canal Sur, has argued in interviews that he sees "new clouds" in the stratosphere. No study supports global spraying; it is suspicion without evidence, regardless of its audience.

Something similar happens with apocalyptic images of the future—fenced cities, synthetic food, mobility control—which appear whenever water distribution is debated. And with urgent explanations: a volcanic eruption recorded in January 2022 and El Niño have been cited as causes for recent storms. Volcanic activity occurred, certainly; elevating it to the main cause is another matter.

Consensus as argument: Science or politics?

Here appears the most repeated objection: science does not work by consensus, it advances through refutation. It is a formally attractive but somewhat deceptive argument. Consensus is not a matter of faith, but the state of evidence after decades of peer review. That a vast majority of specialists agree on a direction does not close research; it guides it.

It is wise, however, to separate two things the official narrative mixes without shame. One is the physical diagnosis, measurable and verifiable. The other is the set of measures presented as the only possible response: taxes, household consumption restrictions, dietary changes. That the first is solid does not force us to swallow the second without discussing the cost. The carbon business has as many interested parties in the diagnosis as in the solution.

And what about May?

The evolution of the issue is telling. When rains finally arrived, attention shifted to nuance: if they didn't fall in April, they were useless; if they fell too much, the culprit remained the same. The wildcard that explains everything has a serious problem: it also explains the opposite.

One fact remains that no one fully reconciles. Spain has spent years debating water consumption cuts in an era of connected reservoirs and circular economy, using drought as a banner and agriculture as a hostage. What if the right question isn't how much it rains, but who decides what to do with what falls?