It is a joy to be back in Asturias. Now in their 46th year, these Awards have acquired the serene rhythm of things done well, while not giving up on novelty: there is always something to surprise us.

My thanks to you all for accompanying us, to the Foundation and its Trustees for making it all possible, and to the Laureates for the time they have dedicated these days to their immersion in Asturias.             And it is a source of pride —if you will allow me to confess— to see how Leonor, The Princess of Asturias, continues to take firm steps as Honorary President of the Foundation, while she continues her education and accrues valuable experiences in her life learning, as does Infanta Sofía.

The Princess has praised the merits of our Laureates and I would like to add a final thought. Allow me to begin —being on this stage— with the figure of Leopoldo Alas “Clarín”, who promoted the construction of the Campoamor Theatre and whose death 125 years ago we commemorate this year.

Clarín said, “The lessons of the world are written in a language that cannot be translated; the language of experience.” The phrase aptly defines —it seems to me— the trait shared year after year by our Princess of Asturias Awards: a rich learning experience. An experience that cannot be transferred or explained, but can only be lived. Experience that at the end of our life’s journey will be our greatest legacy.

It is important to emphasize this idea —the value of experience— in a world that marches to the dictates of information bombardment and the massive aggregation of data. A world in which Artificial Intelligence sometimes seems to us —because it is efficient and immediate— more reliable than human intelligence. Our Laureates dispel that impression: their achievements, experienced and worked to the core, demonstrate that only through effort and perseverance can talent turn its potential into tangible, lasting realities.

The quasi-artisanal process that goes from “self” to society, from potential to result, requires time. Sometimes it leads to a sporting feat, a great novel, a scientific discovery or a theorem that better explains the world; something that many —most of us— see as almost unattainable. Yet it does not always happen that way: often it results in something simply well done; work that is useful for society. And how many millions of anonymous people are there to whom we owe that quiet, humble dedication to doing things well…

Artificial intelligence —or its future evolution, so-called superintelligence (SI)— has more than proven that it can absorb all human knowledge and return it synthesized with astonishing immediacy. Yet one might wonder whether it would be capable of something very different, almost the opposite: of learning from time, from the passage of time, gradually reconciling knowledge —as we human beings do— with that necessary moral learning that only age, consideration for others, and experience can give us.

The moral of the story is that we need to give ourselves time. Time to get results, to achieve objectives, to reach goals; and we also need patience, as societies; especially in this world of technological acceleration. We have a great deal to offer others and ourselves. Let us give ourselves time, let us trust in ourselves to reach the best version of ourselves.

In a mature society like ours, the exercise of democracy also requires time. It does not end with elections like the ones we will soon undergo, in which citizens will once again have the exalted responsibility of defining the political course of our country. Democracy requires a daily commitment that is both civic and demanding. It requires attending to its configuration and institutions so as to continue to guarantee our coexistence, to act as a beacon for the pursuit of the common good that safeguards and balances — in the best way possible— the legitimate interests of all citizens

Democracy is ultimately also an experience, a learning process. And we have learned a lot in the five decades that have passed between the passing of the Law for Political Reform and the present day. Let us recall that a complex process, based on generosity and vision: Spain’s Transition, allowed us to transit peacefully and admirably from dictatorship to freedom, no more and no less. A process based on a Constitution —ours of 1978— capable of embracing all Spaniards without any distinction. And since then the path has continued onward, is renewed year after year and obliges us all to be humble, to stay alert, to also renew —as citizens— our constant will to learn and improve.

Ladies and Gentlemen,

I started with Clarín and I would like to end with another illustrious figure of our literature, whose death 40 years ago is also being commemorated this year. I refer to the great Jorge Luis Borges, a universal Argentinian who, on one occasion, when he was already very old, was asked about the profession of writing. He replied, “Writing is dreaming; and one has to try to dream sincerely.”

These are useful words, it seems to me, for any profession or human activity. Sincerity in what we do, want, yearn for and imagine: that is the essential requirement to complete our learning, for our efforts to bear fruit, to have —at the end of the path— something valuable to give back to society. And our Laureates are proof of this. They give us excellent examples of how far a life, a career, a creative or research project can go when done with sincerity; a sincerity that an algorithm can never achieve on its own. 

 

These Awards are a testament to our admiration and gratitude: thank you all for renewing our spirits, for showing us how high intelligence can fly when it is combined with effort, values and creativity. That is, when it is combined with the human spirit.

Thank you very much.