Spain's Communication Chief in Adif Control Room After Crash

What was the Secretary of State for Communication doing in Adif's control room?

What is the Government’s Secretary of State for Communication doing in Adif’s control room while victims of the Urda accident were still being rescued? The question, raised on social media based on an image, has sparked a controversy that quickly shifted from curiosity to suspicion: that **Lydia del Canto**’s department might be behind the leak of audios used to blame an Adif technician. According to shared reports, the Civil Guard found traces in the recordings' metadata pointing to this same secretariat.

The salary does not help lower tensions: **€138,231 per year**, according to the Transparency Portal. A figure repeated relentlessly in every message, turning the issue into a mix of disaster management, political communication, and public funds.

The €138,231 salary and the metadata trail

The first data point is the salary. **€138,231 annually** for a State Secretariat that theoretically coordinates the Executive’s communication. The second is technical: the audios used to exonerate Minister Óscar Puente regarding the **69 deaths** in Toledo—as cited in circulating pieces—reportedly left a metadata trail that the Civil Guard links to Del Canto’s department.

The sequence emerging resembles a hastily constructed narrative. First, the audio blaming the technician leaks; then, the weak link is targeted; meanwhile, the number two in Communication sits in the control room listening to conversations between drivers and controllers. In what capacity? No one clarifies. And that is where the problem begins.

Who is Lydia del Canto and why is her name surfacing?

Del Canto is no newcomer. Former Head of Press for Ximo Puig and former director of *Levante-EMV*, her name now appears in the crosshairs of the Civil Guard and the investigating judge probing who leaked the material. Her connection to the Socialist environment and institutional communication fits the spreading thesis: it was not a technician’s error, but an office operation.

Some summarize it bluntly: if the security system fails daily and the only person working without having been appointed ends up blamed, the problem isn’t the individual, it’s the system. The phrase, with all its weight, points to a broader idea: loyalty-based selection over merit in public administration.

The official narrative and the shadow of the Presidency

The hypothesis gaining traction doesn’t stop at the secretariat: it points to **La Moncloa**. That is, to Pedro Sánchez. The logic trinc classic mafia patterns: the boss doesn’t get his hands dirty, gives oral orders, doesn’t execute, and leaves no proof. Henchmen only sing when facing prison time and the leader is out of power. If that happens, things will get messy.

Against this reading, a more moderate version argues that staying informed during a crisis is part of the role and that the incivil act, if any, was the leak. Communicating the accident is one thing; leaking information to steer the investigation is another. The boundary between the two is exactly what the judge must define in writing.

Puente’s resignation and the victims’ narrative

Amid the noise, Minister **Óscar Puente** resigned after a week of reflection, according to prevailing accounts. The State will compensate **€70,000** per deceased victim. For some, Puente’s departure closes the political circle; for others, it proves that inconvenient figures are sacrificed while the structure responsible for the leak remains intact.

The debate about the technician also has nuance. A position monitoring train collisions, equipped with automatic systems, yet failing. Individual guilt or administrative design? The discussion splits between those demanding personal responsibility and those seeing the blame as a smokescreen to cover the chain of command.

What remains unknown

The case is open. The Civil Guard certifies the trail, the judge investigates, and the Government has not publicly explained why its number two in Communication was in the control room. Nor who authorized entry or what was done with the intercepted conversations.

The most human detail remains: not deleting the metadata. Haste, as known. A textbook oversight turning a narrative operation into judicial evidence. Meanwhile, the fundamental question goes unanswered: who communicates to the communicator?