Even before reconstructing the content of what is now absolutely public domain, namely the wiretaps published by the press between Filippo Turetta and his parents, it is truly necessary to make some premises. Because everything that concerns the Giulia Cecchettin affair is something so grave and serious that it must be treated with care.

The first consideration, because you can’t be a guarantor only when it’s convenient, is that it’s not exactly “normal”, let’s say, that a conversation in a prison interview room is made known to the general public, indeed to the very general public. The second consideration is that whoever broadcast it, Tg1, did its job very well. Very well. Not reporting a piece of news is censorship, reporting it is exactly the reason why journalism exists. The third consideration is that there are those who wanted exactly this, that is, that that conversation become public knowledge. Who are we to be able to judge? This will be dealt with, at the very least, by the bodies to which someone will most likely be held to account.

The fourth consideration, which is finally the last before moving on to what was said in this interview room in the Verona prison, concerns who says what. A father’s love for a son is irrespective, we can all try to understand it. It is that in this case we understand that the effort cannot but be truly substantial. Because telling a son, to support him, that he is not the first to kill a woman, “since about 200 have been killed in recent years…”, one cannot help but emphasize that, those words, he did not say to a son, Nicola Turetta, but to that son.

And if her intention was really to support him, the impression is that she has instead dealt him the final blow, with this outburst. So, once the effort to understand his father is over, we can only note, or rather clarify once and for all, one thing. This son is not unfortunate, because he grew up in an economic and social context that three quarters of the world can only dream of, without making too much rhetoric but establishing an indisputable fact. He is a son who has also studied, so much so that he could even graduate, something that his father also refers to, in this damned dialogue. It is clear that in that same economic and social context that was mentioned before, killing women as such is a contemplated possibility. In any case accepted by a segment of people.

In this conversation Filippo Turetta, he says referring to his lawyer, Professor Giovanni Caruso, “I can’t tell him everything, I didn’t tell him everything”, he cannot be justified. What Filippo Turetta did to Giulia Cecchettin is even reductive to define as murder. He kidnapped her. He tortured her. He then hit her, wounded her and gagged her. He hit her again and finally killed her. Filippo Turetta then took Giulia’s body to a remote place in another region, not even a province, trying to hide it. It hurts to remember it but it is necessary to keep it in mind.

“You did something, but you’re not a mafioso, you’re not someone who kills people, you had a moment of weakness. You’re not a terrorist. You have to be strong. You’re not the only one. There have been many others”, says father Nicola Turetta to his son Filippo, referring to the many males who have committed the same heinous crime. “But you have to graduate”, says father Nicola to his son Filippo. A piece of advice that seems to be the only sensible one, even if it’s not the educational qualification that the father seems to be looking at, but rather the permits and access to opportunities that lead to a sort of “harm reduction” that is however expressed in detention. The young man doesn’t seem at all convinced and, in fact, is amazed at how well he is treated considering what he has done. He says it quite clearly. For this reason, his father tells him: “There are 200 other femicides. Then you will have permits to go out, to go to work, conditional release. It wasn’t you, you shouldn’t blame yourself because you couldn’t control yourself”. Words not only of a desolate cynicism but which certify how a certain “underthinking”, is certified precisely by the 200 dead women killed by men to which father Turetta refers.

If Filippo Turetta is the name that more than any other cannot help but be associated with femicide, the name of the father, Nicola Turetta, risks becoming the one that will be referred to every time the topic of the role of families in stemming this plague is addressed. A sick belief that seems truly unshakable, so much so that it has resisted for centuries, given that it has managed to drag itself from the dawn of time and reach the era of Instagram and Tik Tok. Perhaps it is because those who do this, those who pass on these “concepts”, do it calmly and comfortably from home.