If you own property in Spain, you probably understand the importance of having insurance coverage to protect your investment. However, even the best insurance policies can't always protect you from unexpected events like earthquakes, floods, and other natural disasters. That's where the Consorcio de Compensación de Seguros (CCS) comes in.

The CCS is a public entity in Spain that was established in 1954 to ensure that everyone in the country has access to insurance coverage for certain risks, including those that are difficult or impossible to insure through the private market. One of the key functions of the CCS is to provide coverage for natural disasters and other catastrophic events that cause widespread damage, such as earthquakes, floods, and terrorist attacks. The CCS is responsible for compensating individuals and businesses for damages caused by these events, even if they do not have insurance coverage themselves.

Compared to similar systems in other countries, the CCS is widely regarded as being on par, if not superior. In Japan, a public insurance program called the Japanese Earthquake Reinsurance System (JERS) provides coverage for earthquake damage. Like the CCS, JERS is funded by premiums paid by insurance companies, and it provides coverage for individuals and businesses that are unable to obtain coverage through the private market. JERS is widely considered to be an effective system, and it has been used to compensate victims of major earthquakes in the country, such as the 1995 Kobe earthquake. However, while JERS is a comprehensive system, the CCS in Spain is unique in that it provides coverage for a wider range of catastrophic events beyond just earthquakes.

In the United States, the Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA) provides assistance to individuals and businesses affected by natural disasters through a variety of programs, including disaster relief loans, grants, and insurance. However, the US system is generally considered to be less comprehensive than those in Japan and Spain, as it places more emphasis on individual responsibility for disaster preparedness and recovery.

In other countries, such as India and many African nations, disaster coverage is provided primarily by private insurance companies, and there is often limited government support for those affected by natural disasters. This can make it difficult for individuals and businesses to obtain coverage or recover from losses caused by catastrophic events.

Overall, the effectiveness of national disaster coverage systems depends on a variety of factors, including the level of funding, the scope of coverage, and the quality of implementation. The CCS is an important part of the Spanish insurance system, providing coverage and compensation for those affected by catastrophic events and helping to ensure that everyone in the country has access to insurance coverage for certain risks. The CCS is also unique in that it provides coverage for a wider range of catastrophic events, beyond just earthquakes. In addition, the Spanish government has taken steps to increase funding for the CCS and improve its capacity to respond to catastrophic events, making it a reliable and effective system for property owners in Spain.

If you're a property owner in Spain, it's a good idea to familiarize yourself with the CCS and the claims process, so that you know what to do in the event of an earthquake or other natural disaster. Whether you have insurance coverage or not, the CCS can provide compensation and support for those affected by catastrophic events, helping to ease the burden of recovery and ensure that you can get back on your feet as quickly as possible.

If your Spanish house was damaged by an earthquake, flood, a meteor strike or alien attack, you would need to make a claim through the Consorcio de Compensación de Seguros (CCS) to receive compensation for your losses. The process for making a claim through the CCS is as follows:

1. Contact your insurance company: If you have insurance coverage for earthquake damage, you should contact your insurance company to report the damage and begin the claims process. Your insurance company will then contact the CCS on your behalf to request compensation.
2. File a claim with the CCS: If you do not have insurance coverage for earthquake damage, or if your insurance company is unable to provide compensation, you can file a claim directly with the CCS. You can do this by visiting the CCS website (www.consorseguros.es - English version available from the menu on the top right of the page) and completing the online claims form, or by visiting a local CCS office in person.
3. Provide documentation: To support your claim, you will need to provide documentation of the damage, such as photographs, repair estimates, and invoices. You may also be required to provide documentation of ownership and any insurance policies you hold.
4. Wait for a decision: The CCS will review your claim and make a decision on whether to provide compensation. If your claim is approved, the CCS will provide compensation directly to you or to your insurance company, depending on the circumstances.

It's important to note that the CCS is only responsible for providing compensation for damage caused by earthquakes and other catastrophic events that are considered to be "acts of God." Damage caused by other factors, such as poor maintenance or negligence, may not be covered by the CCS. Additionally, there may be certain limitations on the amount of compensation provided by the CCS, depending on the specific circumstances of the damage.

 

In the quiet pueblo blanco of Olvera, where I’ve lived for fifteen years, a war has erupted.  Not over healthcare, jobs, or the creeping cost of living, but over something far more mundane: rubbish.

The town hall has hiked refuse collection fees and doubled down on a door-to-door recycling scheme, complete with barcode-tagged bins linking every scrap to your name.  Non-compliance, though unspoken, carries the threat of fines.  This isn’t just about sorting plastic from paper - it’s about control, surveillance, and the theft of our time.

The town hall is saying “it’s not our fault, we’re just following orders” citing an EU directive that seeks to make citizens more responsible for their rubbish, however there is nothing in the EU law that conflates recycling with refuse collection.  This seems to be a decision made nearer home.

While door to door recycling collection may at first seem innocuous enough, it has inconevienced many people. The closing of most of the public recyling bins means smelly organic waste has to remain in the house until being put out on the correct day. Folk with limited space find it intolerable to be expected to keep separate bins in their house for paper, plastics, organics, and “resto” the catch all-category that has many inexplicable exceptions from batteries to jam jars. In the absence of public bins, many frustrated citizens are just leaving their rubbish in the street as a dirty protest. So far, the town hall isn’t listening.

However I believe Olvera’s bins are a microcosm of a larger betrayal.  The traditional left, who are in charge here, has lost its way, having become wedded to neoliberalism’s altar of individual responsibility and managerial disdain. By dismissing the legitimate anger of ordinary people, they’ve left a void - one that populists, with their placards and promises, are all too eager to fill. This is not just a local squabble; it’s a warning of democracy’s fragility across the West.

The Recycling Dogma: A False Salvation

Recycling is a modern sacrament.  To question it is to invite scorn, as if you’ve denied a universal truth.  Yet the reality is far less divine. A ‘New Scientist’ article from decades ago pointed out a brutal truth: burning a piece of paper can be kinder to the environment than driving it to a recycling center, where it’s sorted, shredded, pulped, bleached, and reformed - each step guzzling more fossil fuel than the last.  In a world still hooked on oil and gas, recycling often costs more carbon than it saves.

I don’t hate recycling. I hate the lie it’s built on: that individual acts can offset a system addicted to overproduction and waste. Corporations churn out plastic, reaping profits while paying nothing for its disposal. Meanwhile, we’re guilt-tripped for not rinsing a yoghurt pot. This is called ‘Agency Fallacy’: the myth that our small choices can fix a large system that is structurally broken.

“If the planet burns, it’s not because you used the wrong bin. It’s because the system was designed to burn it.”

The Minute Snatch: Your Time as Their Resource

Every day, we lose fragments of our lives to tasks we never signed up for.  Take the EU’s new water bottles, with caps tethered to the neck to “aid recycling.” Sounds noble, but try screwing one back on. It’s fiddly, awkward, and steals seconds each time. Ten sips a day, and that’s five minutes gone. Multiply that by millions, and you’ve got a mass heist of human time. I call it the ‘Minute Snatch’.

Banks are the masters of this theft.  Not too long ago, bank tellers handled your transactions. Now, you’re the teller, fumbling through online banking or over-engineered ATMs. A UK bank once bragged, “We’re all bank managers now!”  No, we’re not. We’re unpaid clerks. Self-checkouts at supermarkets?  You’re the unpaid cashier.  Website CAPTCHAs that make you identify traffic lights? You’re training AI for free. Each task chips away at your day, your dignity, your autonomy.

This isn’t empowerment - it’s exploitation dressed up as convenience. And it’s not accidental. It’s the logical endpoint of a system that sees your time as a resource to be mined.

Neoliberalism’s Long Shadow

The roots of this lie in neoliberalism, a philosophy that recast society as a collection of individuals, each responsible for their own fate. As Grace Blakeley argues in ‘Stolen’, Margaret Thatcher’s declaration that “there is no such thing as society” wasn’t just rhetoric - it was a blueprint. Public services were gutted, collective bargaining weakened, and responsibility was shifted onto the individual.

“There’s no such thing as society. There are individual men and women, and there are families.”

 - Margaret Thatcher, 1987

This mindset - responsibilisation, as sociologists call it - makes us feel guilty for systemic failures. If recycling doesn’t work, it’s your fault. If the economy tanks, you didn’t upskill enough. If the climate collapses, you didn’t cycle to work. The Agency Fallacy thrives here, convincing us that our tiny acts matter while corporations and governments dodge accountability.

Olvera’s Bins: A Local Betrayal

In Olvera, the PSOE, a party with “socialist” in its name, should be the voice of the people. Instead, they’ve embraced neoliberalism’s playbook: enforce compliance, monitor citizens, and dismiss dissent. Their social media posts about the recycling scheme have been curt, even rude, brushing off concerns about cost, privacy, and practicality.  Residents aren’t just angry about bins - they’re angry about being ignored.

The scheme itself is a case study in overreach. Bar codes track your waste, raising questions about GDPR compliance and proportionality under Spanish consumer law. Fines, though not yet explicit, loom as a threat. For many, especially the elderly or those in rural areas, the system is impractical. Yet the town hall presses on, blaming individuals for systemic flaws.

This isn’t socialism. It’s managerialism - a top-down imposition that treats citizens as cogs, not partners. And it’s failing the people it claims to serve.

The Populist Void

This is the macrocosm you see across the West. From Brexit to Trump to the rise of far-right parties in Europe, the pattern is clear: when progressive parties wed themselves to neoliberalism’s cold logic, they lose the trust of the people. Populists, with their simple answers and emotional resonance, rush in. They don’t win because people love their ideology - they win because no one else is listening.

“When the left stops listening, the right starts shouting. And the people, desperate, follow the noise.”

The Threat to Democracy

David Graeber once wrote that bureaucratic systems punish the powerless while absolving the powerful.  Byung-Chul Han described our “achievement society,” where we internalize our own exploitation, proud of our “agency” even as it enslaves us. In Olvera, you see both: a system that fines you for a mis-sorted bottle, while the corporations who made the bottle pay nothing.

But the deeper danger is political. When the left fails to offer a real alternative - when it swaps solidarity for spreadsheets - it cedes the field to those who thrive on division and fear. Democracy doesn’t die in a single blow; it erodes when trust is broken, when people feel abandoned, when the only voices left are the ones promising order over justice.

It’s Not Your Fault - But It’s Our Fight

Let’s be clear: it’s not your fault. You didn’t design a world that runs on fossil fuels. You didn’t choose to spend your days as an unpaid bank teller, cashier, or AI trainer. You didn’t ask to be a bin inspector, scrutinized by Bar codes & RFID chips (yes, Olvera’s bins also have the same radio frequency chips that supermarkets use to stop us running off with a bottle of whisky). The Agency Fallacy wants you to believe you’re the problem. You’re not.

But this fight is ours. Recycling won’t save us. Compliance won’t save us. Only collective action - real, messy, human action - can.

We need a left that listens, that rejects neoliberalism’s hollow promises, that fights for systems where responsibility is shared, not dumped on the individual.

Olvera’s bins are a small story, but they’re a warning. Across the West, the failure to heed that warning is giving populists the keys to the future. If we don’t reclaim our agency - not the false kind, but the kind rooted in solidarity - then the next war won’t be about rubbish. It’ll be about democracy itself.

Things to keep in mind

• You don’t owe the system your spare minutes.
• You don’t owe your soul to a recycling bin.
• And you definitely don’t owe your free labour to the companies that created the problem.
• It’s not your fault.
• It never was.

[This blog was researched and drafted with help from ChatGTP and Grok]