També en català | También en castellano
Today is the “premier” of the episode 5 of the series Day One at the Maxwell Auditorium of the ALBA Synchrotron, where the facility plays a “key” role in the plot. This series, as was presented at the time, is promoted by the Mobile World Capital Barcelona Foundation, a public-private foundation that receives on average €5 million per year in public funding from Catalan institutions. Beyond whether we liked the series or found it amusing to see colleagues appear in it, it certainly raises some questions.
Barcelona has long sought to position itself as an international technological capital. On paper, the goal is clear: to showcase Barcelona as a cutting-edge technological ecosystem and to strengthen the city’s international appeal. However, this strategy raises an important question: what is the real impact of these initiatives on science, research, and the people working in these fields? And, going even further: what is the real impact of this technological model on the city and its inhabitants?
A striking statement by the foundation’s Director of Communications and Institutional Relations in an interview [1] particularly raises doubts about these initiatives: “Although it is difficult to quantitatively assess the legacy of both the congress and MWCapital, it is undeniable that they have contributed to boosting economic sectors, the city, and the country.”
This statement highlights a structural issue: if the impact is difficult to quantify, how is public investment justified? Is this the most efficient way to give visibility to the ALBA synchrotron when its workers are denied competitive conditions compared to similar institutions?
In science policy, measurability is crucial. When results cannot be quantified, there is a risk that narrative is prioritized over real transformation. This is especially problematic when, at the same time, world-class scientific infrastructures face structural limitations such as stagnant salaries or difficulties in retaining talent.
The contrast is clear: while technological branding and promotional projects for Barcelona are funded, the working class faces denied wage increases and labor rights, alongside an increasingly unlivable city.
Beyond the use of the ALBA Synchrotron facilities as a narrative setting for Day One—without a faithful representation of its activity (security personnel in the control room, unsupervised experiments, synchrotron light appearing in a “microscope” that produces a 3D image of a chip in 30 seconds), which could be justified as artistic license—a voice inside me (usually an angry one) asks: what does this actually contribute to ALBA synchrotron? Other institutions have done similar things—the CERN appears in series and films, as does NASA—but in this case, this is not merely entertainment; it is an initiative linked to institutional technological promotion strategies.
All this seems like superficial branding that costs taxpayers a significant amount of money and has a “hard-to-quantify” impact. But beyond that, it also perpetuates other issues: where is the Catalan language? Is this the city that is meant to be promoted?
To complicate matters further, Catalan is used as a symbolic element or set dressing. Although the series takes place in Barcelona and nearby cities, the language is merely decorative: a “no passeu” sign from the Mossos d’Esquadra in a crime scene, character names… All this with the participation of 3Cat (Catalonia’s public television), which at least dubbed it into Catalan for its platform (crumbs…).
This debate cannot be separated from the urban model represented by the Mobile World Congress (the foundation is also funded by its organizers). For years, the congress has been presented as an essential economic driver for Barcelona. However, critical sectors have repeatedly questioned this narrative.
The Mobile World Congress generates a concentrated and temporary economic impact, but it also contributes to dynamics that worsen structural problems in the city: pressure on the rental market, intensification of business tourism, temporary privatization of public space, and prioritization of corporate uses over community needs.
Barcelona is already a city undergoing strong gentrification processes. The continued commitment to large technological events reinforces an outward-oriented urban model focused on attracting investment, often at the expense of livability for residents.
The case of Day One at the ALBA Synchrotron reflects a promotional dynamic (again, not quantifiable…) that, in my view, has very limited impact. Public administrations prioritize visible and media-friendly initiatives, somewhat similar to what ALBA’s management does: appearances over real changes that could make people’s lives easier.
These actions have an immediate return: they generate headlines [2, 3, 4], strengthen institutional image, and project a version of Barcelona that today hardly reflects the reality of its inhabitants. In contrast, structural investments (salary improvements, job stability, baseline funding, or housing policies) have less public visibility and, it seems, lower priority.
This is not to say that visibility is useless. Scientific outreach and international projection can be valuable tools. But to have real impact, they must be accompanied by structural investment and rigorous representation.
Without this, everything remains headlines and a series we will watch over a rainy weekend on our couch and forget within days. Visibility alone is not enough. What we need is stability (both professional and personal—i.e., decent housing), investment, and real recognition of the value of ALBA and the people who work there. Without such support, the risk is that the technological narrative becomes just that: a narrative.