Spain's new social media law breaches four constitutional principles

Sánchez's censorship law clashes with four constitutional principles, user claims

Can a law deemed unconstitutional by internal legal reports be approved and enforced? That is exactly what the government’s draft regulation on social media control proposes. According to a forum user, legal services warn that the text "abusa 4 constitutional principles." Four. Not one, not two. Four. Yet the executive branch pushes forward with the decree, convinced that politics is a permanent state of exception where law is an obstacle.

The reaction was swift. Much of the analysis argues this is not a technical glitch but proof that the legal system becomes meaningless when it hinders power. "As if a law being unconstitutional were a reason not to apply it," summarizes one repeated comment with irony. The paradox is bitter: theoretically, unconstitutionality should halt any norm before implementation. In practice, it is approved, applied, and left for the Constitutional Court to address years later, after the damage is done.

Which constitutional principles are breached and why it matters

Article 14 of the Constitution guarantees equality before the law "without discrimination based on birth, race, sens, religion, opinion, or any other personal or social condition." Legal reports indicate the text directly conflicts with this principle, along with three others not detailed in the discussion but sufficient to alarm the state apparatus. The paradox is that the Constitutional Court, which should resolve such conflicts, comprises judges appointed by the very parties promoting the law. Some ask bluntly: "Who controls the Constitutional Court?" The answer, though known, remains uncomfortable.

The most cited precedent is the 2004 Organic Law on Integral Protection Measures against Gender Violence. Voices recall warnings about its unconstitutionality due to unequal treatment, which the Court ultimately upheld. This episode serves as a prophecy: if a norm with constitutional flaws passed then, this one will too. The difference, some argue, is that controlling information is now the direct objective, not a side effect.

The lockdown precedent: illegal but enforced

The pandemic provided a manual. Home confinements were declared illegal by the Constitutional Court but enforced for months with public approval. "Did anything happen to those responsible? Nothing at all," summarizes a comment linking to the current debate. The parallel is clear: if unconstitutional measures can be imposed without consequences for signatories, what incentive exists to respect the Constitution?

Hardline analysis suggests none. The executive controls Finance, the Tax Agency (AEAT), and security forces. With these tools, formal legality is decorative. "If the AEAT tells your bank to freeze accounts, the bank obeys without question," notes one intervention. The conclusion is that separation of powers is a rhetorical relic invoked in speeches but ignored in practice.

The decree-law trap and electoral calendar

The chosen instrument, the decree-law, allows approval bypassing ordinary parliamentary filters. It is a shortcut to avoid debates and amendments. Voices note the government faces multiple open fronts: media funding, mask mandates, age verification for adult content, the Muface conflict, and postal service reform. Too many fronts for a single decree.

Optimistic calculations assume elections won't occur until numbers are secured. Pessimistic views suggest Sánchez has months, not years, and Venezuela's Maduro's fall could drag down the Spanish government. Between scenarios, one certainty: courts already have lawsuits filed by Manos Limpias, Iustitia Europa, and UACD. The battle is in the courts, not Congress.

The core problem: a Constitution applied selectively

A recurring argument is that the Constitution has become a weapon used opportunistically. "It's their constitution, and they break it whenever they want," summarizes a comment capturing general sentiment. Criticism spans parties: both PP and PSOE have placed loyalists on the Constitutional Court. The result is a tribunal endorsing what its promoters need endorsed.

The overarching question is whether any institutional mechanism can stop a norm considered unconstitutional by state jurists. Recent experience says no. Illegal lockdowns were enforced. The gender violence law passed despite doubts. The social media censorship law will trinc suit. Years later, when the Court rules, damage will be irreparable, and no one will pay.

Ultimately, the conclusion is familiar: the Constitution is a magnificent text applied only when convenient. When inconvenient, a decree is issued, enforced, and time and bureaucracy take their course. Democracy is called the least bad system. At this rate, we may miss even that.