Supplier Series : VCST Industrial Products – Gears, Greed, and the Gutting of Jobs

Deep in the shitty bowels of the automotive supply chain, where precision meets profit, sits VCST Industrial Products – a cog in the vast machine of global manufacturing. Part of the BMT Group, a family-owned industrial holding with tentacles stretching across continents, VCST churns out high-tech gears and brake components for the likes of Audi, Volkswagen, and yes, Cummins Ltd. These aren’t just any parts; they’re the kind of mission-critical components that keep engines humming and brakes squealing, the unsung heroes of your daily commute or that cross-country haul. But beneath the sheen of innovation and blue-chip clientele lies a story that’s less about engineering marvels and more about the cold calculus of capitalismw – where workers are expendable, and profits are sacrosanct.

Let’s cut to the chase: VCST and Cummins are in bed together. Not in some sordid affair, but in the way that suppliers and manufacturers have been for decades. VCST supplies precision-machined powertrain and brake components to Cummins, a multinational behemoth that designs, manufactures, and distributes diesel engines and power generation products. This relationship is no secret; it’s plastered across VCST’s own website and LinkedIn profile, proudly listed among their diversified portfolio of clients. Manufacturing Today, in a 2016 puff piece, even highlighted Cummins as one of VCST’s key customers in the medium-heavy sector. So, yeah, they’re linked tightly, like gears meshing in a well-oiled machine.

But here’s where the story gets gritty. In 2020, as the world reeled from the corona crisis, VCST announced plans to slash 171 jobs out of 427 at its Sint-Truiden facility in Belgium. The reason? The pandemic and “structural declines” in the automotive sector. Sounds reasonable, right? Except, peel back the curtain, and you’ll find that VCST was swimming in cash. In 2018, they posted a net profit of 15 million euros; in 2017, it was 17.5 million. Their own capital stood at a cool 120 million euros. And let’s not forget the BMT Group, their parent company, which raked in a staggering 152 million euros in net profit in 2019, thanks to a 160 million euro dividend from BMT Aerospace. Meanwhile, the Seynaeve family, the puppet masters behind BMT, had pocketed a 46 million euro dividend in 2018. So, while the fat cats feasted, the workers were served a platter of pink slips.

Gaby Colebunders from PVDA didn’t mince words: this was bullshit. He called out VCST for passing the crisis costs onto the very workers who’d built their profits, suggesting alternatives like expanding labour hour reductions for older employees or bridge-to-retirement options. But no, VCST chose the path of least resistance – gut the workforce, keep the dividends flowing. It’s the kind of move that makes you wonder if these companies even pretend to give a damn about their people.

Fast forward to 2023, and VCST was at it again, announcing plans to cut another 62 full-time equivalent jobs, affecting around 80 employees. This time, the excuse was the industry’s shift towards electric vehicles, with declining demand for combustion engine components. Fair enough, you might think – adapt or die. But hold on a second. Union rep Raf Dal Cero from ABVV Metaal pointed out that the writing had been on the wall for 15 years. Studies and unions had warned about the need to pivot, yet VCST dragged its feet. Now, they’re playing catch-up, and once again, it’s the workers who pay the price. It’s like watching a slow-motion car crash where the driver is too busy counting his money to notice the cliff ahead.

And where does Cummins fit into this mess? As one of VCST’s key clients, they’re not just a passive observer. Cummins, with its global reach and deep pockets, relies on suppliers like VCST to keep their engines running. But when the supply chain tightens, and jobs are on the line, do they step in? Do they demand better from their partners? Or do they turn a blind eye, as long as the parts keep coming? It’s a question worth asking, especially when you consider that Cummins itself has faced its share of controversies, like the 2008 class-action lawsuit over defective engines in Dodge Ram trucks, which they eventually settled.

But let’s not kid ourselves—this isn’t just about VCST or Cummins. It’s about an entire system that prioritises shareholder returns over human dignity. It’s about companies that boast about innovation and customer relationships while treating their workforce like disposable assets. It’s about the Seynaeve family, lounging in their ivory tower, while the people who grind gears for a living are left to grind their teeth in frustration.

In the end, the story of VCST is a microcosm of a larger truth: in the world of high-stakes manufacturing, loyalty is a one-way street. Workers pour their sweat and soul into building these companies, only to be discarded when the balance sheet demands it. And the suits? They walk away with their dividends, untouched by the human cost of their decisions.

So, next time you hear about VCST’s “commitment to innovation” or their “blue-chip customer portfolio,” remember the other side of the coin – the layoffs, the broken promises, the lives upended. Because in this game, it’s not just gears that get ground down; it’s people.

Lee Thompson – Founder, The Cummins Accountability Project


Sources

Leave a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Scroll to Top