Between madness, fear, and punishment: The case of the “Spiderman of Cuba” and the old formulas of power

In today's Cuba, where the economic crisis, blackouts, corruption, repression, and hopelessness define daily life, the case of Javier Ernesto Martín Gutiérrez —the "Spiderman of Cuba"— has gone beyond being just an individual anecdote.

His protest from a balcony in Havana, shouting against hunger and misery, and the subsequent response of the state’s repressive machinery, allows us to view the Cuban reality through three classic lenses of Western thought: In Praise of Folly, by Desiderius Erasmus; The Fear of Freedom, by Erich Fromm; and Discipline and Punish, by Michel Foucault.

The regime's reaction has followed a recognizable pattern: to transform the dissident into a "case".

The response does not address the content of their complaints, but rather redefines the individual. A protesting citizen is portrayed as someone unstable, potentially ill.

This maneuver, far from being improvised, is a response to a deeply rooted logic of power.

Erasmus already pointed out, with irony, that societies tend to label as “madness” anything that challenges their conventions, even when those conventions are absurd or unjust.

In that sense, Martín Gutiérrez's gesture—shouting what many keep silent—can be interpreted as a way of breaking free from a normalcy built on resignation. The underlying question is uncomfortable: what is more irrational, denouncing misery or getting used to it?

But the case speaks not only of power, but also of society. Fromm, in The Fear of Freedom, explained how individuals may fear freedom because it entails responsibility, risk, and a break from the security of conformity.

In authoritarian contexts, this dynamic intensifies: those who speak out not only disturb the power but also those who have learned to survive in silence. Hence, part of the social reaction varies between admiration and rejection. The "madman" not only challenges the State; it also reveals the collective fear.

However, it is in Foucault where the case finds its most precise framework. In Discipline and Punish, the French philosopher describes a type of power that does not merely repress, but instead produces truths, classifies behaviors, and defines what is normal and abnormal.

The transfer of Martín Gutiérrez to Villa Marista —the headquarters for interrogations and torture by State Security— is not merely a detention: it is an act of registration in a control system that blends the political with the clinical.

It is not enough to silence the individual; one must construct a narrative about them. References to supposed disorders, to "disordered" behaviors, and to the need for evaluation are all part of that process.

It is about deactivating the political content of the protest by turning it into an individual problem. In this way, power not only punishes but also redefines reality.

This mechanism has an effect that extends beyond the specific case. It serves as a warning. If you protest, you may not only be detained; you can also be labeled, discredited, and turned into an example of deviation.

It is a form of discipline aimed at reinforcing the boundaries of what can be said in a society where freedom of expression remains a manifestation of a dangerous will.

But the current context introduces a new variable. After 67 years of regime, Cuba is experiencing one of its most significant moments of structural wear and social questioning.

The official narrative, which for decades managed to impose interpretative frameworks, shows clear signs of exhaustion. More and more citizens are identifying strategies of discrediting and reacting with skepticism.

In that scenario, the "Spiderman of Cuba" ceases to be just an individual and becomes a symbol. Not necessarily of an organized opposition, but of something more basic and harder to contain: the psychological limit of a society that has lived too long between need and silence.

Erasmus, Fromm, and Foucault, coming from different contexts and centuries, agree on a fundamental idea: power is imposed not only by force but also through the definition of reality.

In today's Cuba, that dispute over meaning —who is sane, who is crazy, who has the right to speak— becomes increasingly visible.

And in that dispute, it is becoming increasingly difficult to convince an entire society that the problem is not in what is being said, but in who dares to say it.