The Free Will of Movement — and How It’s Being Taken Away

You’ve probably noticed that lately my blogs have become something of a call to attention for our society — and I’m sorry if that feels heavy. But writing is the best way I have to release all these feelings that are rising inside me.

Perhaps my perspective isn’t the most neutral either, because in my job I tend to see the worst sides of society. And not only do I see the worst — I often look deeper into everyday situations than most people might. But I need to share this today, because our society is losing something truly important — something we have fought for over generations: the free will of movement.

There was a time when travelling by train across Catalunya felt like an act of freedom.

A simple, everyday gesture — getting on a Rodalies train, looking out of the window, maybe reading or thinking about the day ahead — used to represent something deeper: the right to move freely through our own country, safely, with dignity and respect.

But lately, that freedom feels more and more conditional. Each journey on the Renfe Rodalies service has become a small test of patience, courage, and sometimes even fear.

A few weeks ago, I had an experience that left me deeply unsettled. I hadn’t used that service for a few years, and I was struck by how much the experience has changed.

I decided to take the train home when a ticket officer asked a passenger to show their ticket. The person refused — not just once, but repeatedly — and when asked to identify themselves, they became aggressive. The tension rose quickly; people nearby started to move away, afraid of what might happen next.

Instinctively, I got up to help the officer. I’m tired of seeing people turn away when injustice happens. I acted — not because it’s my job (it isn’t) — but because it felt unbearable to watch a public servant stand alone, facing hostility, while everyone else turned their eyes to the floor. Together, we managed to calm the situation until security officers arrived, but the feeling that stayed with me afterwards was a mix of sadness, frustration and disbelief.

That person wasn’t punished, wasn’t asked to leave the train — they simply sat back down and continued their journey as if nothing had happened.

But that wasn’t all. My trip lasted nearly three hours… and I can assure you that more situations arose during that time.

How did we get here?

When did public transport — something as ordinary and essential as a train ride — become a place where basic respect has disappeared?

Every day, there are scenes like this: people travelling without tickets, smoking in the carriages, playing loud music, shouting insults, blocking doors, intimidating others. The rest of us — the ones who still believe in rules — shrink a little more each time. We look away, we put on our headphones, we try to make ourselves invisible. Because speaking up feels dangerous.

And all the while, the authorities remain silent.

Announcements about “improving the service” keep coming, but what about improving the experience of being there? What about protecting the people who actually pay, who respect, who coexist?

I’ve started to realise that what’s being lost isn’t just comfort — it’s trust. Trust in public spaces, in safety, in each other. And when we lose that, something inside society breaks.

I don’t want to stop taking the train — but it’s not only about the train. Even our streets feel hostile. You can’t walk in certain areas that once felt completely safe. You can’t wear jewellery without a high risk of being robbed. And above all, you can’t even look at or confront people, because there’s a good chance that someone will take it as a challenge — and use it as an excuse to hurt you or release their anger on you.

I love the idea of sustainable travel, of shared spaces, of communities connected by rail. But I also believe we all deserve to move around our own country without fear. Freedom of movement isn’t only about trains that run on time — it’s about feeling that those trains and streets belong to all of us, not just to the loudest, the angriest, or the ones who disregard the rules.

We need to recover that sense of mutual respect — of common space.

Because the right to move freely is a beautiful thing, but it only exists if we feel safe while doing it.

It’s time for Renfe, the Catalan Government and local authorities to take this seriously — not with more announcements, but with real action. Public transport should be a place of connection, not confrontation. And that starts with protecting those who respect the rules, ensuring security on every route, and reminding everyone that freedom and civility go hand in hand.

“A society that protects its public spaces protects its people.
Respect is the first ticket we should all carry.”