When promising is free

By Álvaro J. Díaz-Mella

Democracy allows us to punish those who break the law. The problem begins when citizens stop believing that such punishment serves any purpose.

The children we never had
Vigo is dying. The city of lights is going out

We all remember some political promise. A road that was supposed to be finished years ago, a train that was supposed to arrive, some houses that were supposed to be built, a waiting list that was supposed to be reduced, or a tax that wasn't supposed to go up. Years go by, and some of those commitments remain exactly where they were. We remember them; those who made them seem to have a better time forgetting them.

We must demand that those who govern fulfill their promises. That is one of the reasons they received our vote. Naturally, unforeseen circumstances, budgetary difficulties, or events may arise that make it impossible or even inadvisable to carry out a specific commitment. But then they must explain what has changed, why they can no longer do what they promised, and what alternative they propose. What we should not accept is that what was announced simply disappears and that, after some time, the person who made it comes back asking for our vote with new commitments as if the previous ones had never existed.

In many areas of our daily lives, we would not so readily accept such behavior. If we sign a contract, we must honor it. If we owe money, we have to pay it. If we assume an obligation at work, someone will hold us accountable if we fail to fulfill it. Even in our personal relationships, we know that a promise broken too many times eventually loses its value. However, we have come to accept that something different can happen in politics: a commitment is made, it is not fulfilled, and too often, nothing happens.

So a simple question arises: if those in power aren't particularly interested in remembering what they announced, who should? First and foremost, the opposition. They shouldn't just respond to the adversary's statements or be the center of the day's controversy. They also have to keep track of their commitments: check budgets and deadlines, and ask what happened to the promises made. Sometimes they do this and fail to make themselves heard. Other times they don't even act with the necessary persistence. When no one follows through on a commitment, it becomes easier for the government to replace it with another.

Then there's the press. For a long time, it was referred to as the fourth estate because it was supposed to keep an eye on the other three. An independent media outlet should be able to confront a mayor, a regional president, or the government about what they announced years ago and ask what happened. But we also shouldn't ignore the fact that institutional advertising, public sponsorships, and campaigns paid for by government agencies are part of many media outlets' revenue streams. That doesn't mean that receiving public advertising automatically eliminates independence, and to say so would be unfair. However, a potential conflict of interest does exist, which demands transparency, especially when certain communication activities can also be channeled through contracting or concessionary companies. We should be able to know who is paying, how much, and which media outlets ultimately receive that money.

If those controls fail, we all learn. Politicians too. If announcing a project brings headlines, photos, interviews, and recognition, while leaving it undone has hardly any consequences, the incentive is obvious. When the next campaign arrives, all they have to do is layer new promises on top of the old ones and hope that the public's memory is shorter than the campaign platform.

But citizens also learn. And perhaps that's the most worrying part. There comes a point when some people even stop getting angry. Those who protest still expect something. Those who discuss politics still think it's worthwhile. More worrying is the person who listens to the new promises of an election campaign and ends up thinking: "What for?"

I don't know how many people abstain from voting for this reason, nor do I believe there is a single explanation. Some don't vote out of disinterest, some are satisfied with the situation, some don't feel represented, and some simply cannot or do not want to participate. But when a promise is broken without explanation and no one seems to demand accountability, trust erodes. This doesn't always translate into abstention. Sometimes it becomes cynicism, indifference, or that increasingly common phrase: "they're all the same."

This distrust is not new either. In 1899, Ricardo Mella Cea, from Vigo, wrote in La ley del número (The Law of Numbers) that the elector "remains indifferent, as if he knew beforehand that he has nothing to expect from the legislator." In that passage, Mella refers to the elected political representative as the "legislator." His critique of the representative system was much more radical than the one I present here, and I do not intend to endorse it. What strikes me is that, 127 years later, we can read that phrase and recognize something that still feels familiar.

We have an advantage we shouldn't underestimate: in a democracy, we can remove those who govern us from power. We can reward those who deliver and punish those who don't. But to decide, we need to know what they told us and what they did afterward. We need an opposition that holds us accountable, media capable of fulfilling their function without being overly dependent on those they are meant to monitor, and citizens who refuse to accept that each election campaign erases the previous one.

I'm concerned about broken promises, but even more so that we end up considering it normal. The former may be due to circumstances that those in power will have to justify. The latter means that we have begun to accept that a promise made in politics is worth less than in any other area of ​​our lives. And when promising wins votes and not keeping promises has no consequences, the problem is no longer the promise itself. It's that promising has ended up being free.

Álvaro J. Díaz-Mella
Vigo, August 2026

---

Translation: Elentir.