The real story behind La Marató and TV-3’s charitable image
If justice truly ruled the world and every place had its fair share of prosperity, there would be no need for Cáritas, the Arrels, Maragall, Carreras foundations, or the tireless work of volunteers. Nor would there be a need for Lucia Karam or for a father like Angel. If the world behaved as it should, La Marató on TV-3 would be unnecessary as well.
Yet the world is far from that ideal. It feels rotten, often overlooked, and the television charity effort on TV-3 each year seems to validate itself through a flawless, clean narrative. Other networks also mount fundraising campaigns, showing goodwill that is undeniable. Still, much of the presentation carries a theatrical undertone that can blur the line between sincere aid and showbusiness. TV-3 often comes off as immaculate, edging ahead of others in the race for generosity. This isn’t about Catalans being more generous or more compassionate than anyone else. It is about how the channel sometimes leverages charity for influence, a maneuver that some observers fear strains the purpose of a humanitarian drive. The success of La Marató stems from television’s ability to reach millions and to embed a feeling of awe in the audience. For years, it has cultivated a method that resonates deeply, shaping public perception and mobilizing action.
On a recent Sunday night, the observer watched how TV-3 presented this case. Albert and his brother Alex, described as guardian angels of the family, became the focus. The girl, Martha, faced the same heart condition that claimed the life of Albert and his sister Nuria long before. She is part of the narrative the network unfolds, highlighting a personal tragedy to illustrate a broader medical reality. The way TV-3 frames these stories demonstrates television’s capacity for empathy, offering viewers a window into suffering while guiding the emotional response of a large audience. The family’s experience is rendered with a sensitivity that aims to be truthful, yet inevitably shaped by the medium’s demands and rhythms.
During the broadcast, a hospital nurse’s reflection was shared through the voice of a patient: the heart is more than a pump; it holds memory, emotion, and connection. We do not declare love with lungs or a liver, the nurse explains, but with the heart. Love is spoken in every tongue, a universal refrain that travels across languages and cultures. This sentiment—propagated through the program—helps viewers connect with a universal human truth: the heart’s role in life and love extends beyond anatomy into the realm of feeling.
La Marató on TV-3 remains one of the few exceptions to the warnings about media’s tendency to cloud judgment by appealing to the heart. The program prides itself on touching the heart while aiming to illuminate the mind, inviting audiences to understand medical challenges and to support meaningful help. In the end, the message is not merely about fundraising; it is about the power of storytelling to mobilize care, build solidarity, and foster a sense of shared responsibility across communities. The balance between authentic storytelling and screen-driven spectacle is delicate, but when done well, La Marató can inspire action while preserving dignity for those it portrays. [Citation: TV-3 documentary series on La Marató and public reception]n