Concerts today, debt tomorrow: the future we are leaving to Galicia

By Álvaro J. Díaz-Mella

Anyone who strolled along the Transatlantic Pier in Vigo in early September would have seen huge posters advertising the Son & Mar Vigo festival. *El Faro* unwittingly summed it up: "Vigo rewinds to the nineties." It is marketed as a gift—free of charge. The billboards, however, tell a different story: they bear the branding of Concertos do Xacobeo, the Xunta, Galicia Calidade, and a preview of Xacobeo 2027. The Pontevedra Provincial Council is involved, too. It reflects a PPdeG that has been in power at San Caetano for so long that it now conflates Galicia with its own weekend event schedule.

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The port isn't hosting a celebration by accident. Passersby see the administration occupying the pier as if that were its way of engaging with the city. Back in the nineties, you paid at the box office for that kind of music; now, it is promoted as public heritage.

In Vigo, this routine is nothing new. The mayor stages it every summer at Castrelos; now, the Xunta does the same at the dock. The logo and the venue change, but the logic remains the same: you are treated to an event paid for with your own money, and then asked to applaud.

There is no such thing as free when it is paid for with taxes. What is advertised as a gift is essentially a charge without a receipt. In the past, I would go to a concert, pay for the ticket, and that was it—the cost was immediately visible in my pocket. Today, it isn't visible. It is buried in taxes and in a debt that we all carry.

That Saturday, amidst the crowd waiting in an endless line to get in, something unexpected caught my eye: a significant portion of the people filling the dock didn't seem to be locals. I might have been mistaken; I wasn't keeping a tally. Even so, an uncomfortable question remains. Galicians' taxes fund a concert where the audience—at least on that night—was not exclusively Galician. The Xunta would argue that this is precisely the point: to attract tourism and boost spending. The problem is that this promise is almost never audited. They announce the packed house, not what remains once the lights go out.

I am 64 years old and have a 22-year-old son. Between the two of us, we are saddled with about 4,500 euros in debt for living here. The concert means nothing to him. They have reversed the order of things: the superfluous is socialized, while the future is inherited.

Behind those posters lies a decision, not a mystery. The Galician Popular Party (PP) has been in power since 1990, save for a four-year interlude that changed nothing fundamental. We are not talking about responsibility limited to this legislative term, but rather the track record of those who have led the Xunta for over three decades. That priority is once again visible down at the docks.

They boast of "sound" finances because our debt levels are lower than those of other regions. It is a convenient excuse. Galician public debt stands at €12.281 billion—14% of GDP—according to the Bank of Spain. Relatively low, yes; insignificant, no. Interest payments are made annually using funds that could otherwise be allocated to other priorities. The very government that wears this ratio like a badge of honor deems a massive port redevelopment project urgent, even as securing a primary care appointment still takes longer than it should.

The fact that the "demographic winter" is a Europe-wide phenomenon does not absolve those who have had three decades to treat it as an urgent issue but failed to do so. In the first half of 2026, 6,355 babies were born here—a 3.68% drop compared to the same period the previous year, according to the INE. Births fell by 5.74% in Ourense, 3.95% in A Coruña, 3.92% in Pontevedra, and 0.25% in Lugo. Deaths outnumber births two-to-one, rural areas are fading away, meaningful work-life balance remains elusive, and inland rail lines still use the Iberian gauge. The non-financial spending ceiling exceeds €14.177 billion. Yet, the political sense of urgency fits entirely onto a single poster.

A concert does not explain why fewer children are being born. It does, however, reveal what the Xunta deems urgent when birth rates decline. They have built a Galicia that is merely for show: digital portals where files sit dormant on virtual desks. Young people seeking employment commensurate with their qualifications must weigh whether there is room for their lives here. Meanwhile, public funds continue to evaporate across 313 municipalities, four provincial councils, and the regional offices of a fragmented administrative structure—one that citizens perceive as rife with duplication and difficult to navigate.

Citizens do not vote on every single line item in the Xunta’s budget; the absolute majority simply steamrolls them through year after year. I do not want to be "treated" to something paid for with my own money—only to be expected to say thank you. I want a healthcare system that doesn't keep patients waiting, an administration that actually responds, and a future where my son doesn't have to pack his life into a suitcase to earn a living outside Galicia.

Less stage. More future.

Álvaro J. Díaz-Mella
Vigo, September 2026

Sources:

• Galicia – Public debt of each autonomous community according to data and statistics from the Bank of Spain. EP Data. August 22, 2026.
• The birth rate in Galicia continues to decline, while Galicians are living longer: 1.5% fewer deaths and 3.7% fewer births. Faro de Vigo. August 19, 2026.
• The Xunta unveils the Xacobeo 2025 concert program, featuring over 40 events and 500 bands and artists in 2025. Xunta de Galicia, April 2, 2025.

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Image: Grok. Translation: Elentir.