Neither ethics nor aesthetics... nor shame

The classic saying goes that there is no ethics without aesthetics . Some people have played around with the order of words, although, in any case, at this point it's not a question of making a fuss about who said what and how, or the authorship of this or that phrase. Well, to put it bluntly and in popular language, whoever said it is more right than a saint! And although aesthetics can often camouflage evil intentions, one, being of the generation to whom tales were told, remembers the Brothers Grimm story about the wolf and the seven goats, and knows that many an Ermenegildo Zegna suit hides real scoundrels, no matter how well-groomed they appear. We are the ones who trust appearances! In fact, merchants tend to be very careful and keep a close eye on those supposedly posh buyers who, in fact, are lovers of luxury and good things, but at zero cost! And so, theft, robbery, and plunder in politics become embezzlement, misappropriation, and taking it raw. At the expense of all of us, of course, tax payers who spend it, not exactly on health and education.

An education that, in any case, would be beneficial if it were linked to instruction in terms of knowledge and preparation, and in the ways and means of behaving in each situation. Because, I insist, ethics has a point where it needs aesthetics. Not for show, mind you. But out of respect for the institution or what it represents. It's true that, as a Senior Spy , I'm older than a travel bag and dress well on a train. But there's something that tells me that, if one has already learned that the wolf dressed in Armani can devour you well and truly, those who behave like louts at a fair after several shots of calimocho and zurracapote are less forgivable than a missed penalty in a World Cup final, and are more dangerous. Especially when vulgarity comes as a spurious stance to demonstrate I don't know what ways of doing politics, wanting to appear approachable based on a populism that, surprisingly, ends up being recognized as the most of the most good-natured.

When the young Podemos members arrived at the Congress of Deputies, they stormed into the House of Representatives like assembly students with their backpacks and trench coats (or whatever they wear as covers) and hugged the seats in their parkas as if they were still in college. Far from the imprecations of the former Speaker of the Cortes, José Bono , now a super-millionaire rentier and father of a TikToker who slaps the Socialist minister Sebastián with an open hand, for taking the speaker's podium without a tie! Far from that moment, I said, we have moved on to ragged deputies who could only go to dinner in seedy Garibaldi-style taverns; to being dressed (?) as if they were on a naturist beach instead of the seat of national sovereignty; or, the penultimate thing (because there will be more), deputies with their legs up on the tables in their seats as if they were at home watching Netflix. In short, half the House is probably doing it on their expensive iPads, which we all pay for, or making money with their latest smartphones, also at the public's expense, to use to WhatsApp or browse some Wallapop bargain. You don't go to the House of Representatives on San Jerónimo Street to listen to your opponent. What's the point? You go there to collect your money, applaud, and laugh at how clever the leader of your own group has been, and boo and mock your opponent. And between the years, and if you've gotten a piece of the pie, you can bribe yourself, either monetary or with the well-maintained colipoterras, both more than complementary. Or not? The aesthetics are gone, no, but we have plenty of shameless people!