About TCAP
The tribunal case has concluded. TCAP has not.
The Cummins Accountability Project began in a small room with a large problem: a global company getting away with too much, for too long.
I’m Lee Thompson, a former Cummins shop-floor employee. I was dismissed after years of grievances, disability-related disputes, deteriorating mental health and corporate processes that seemed remarkably good at protecting the people operating them.
This site documents what happened, what Cummins said happened and the considerable fucking distance between the two.
TCAP is where I give my unfiltered version of events. It is not corporate communications polished by committee, legal submissions scrubbed of inconvenient context or a tribunal judgment pretending every contradiction disappeared because a man in a robe stopped looking at it.
I name the people involved. I examine their evidence. I compare what they said with the documents, the recordings and, occasionally, what they said somewhere else. When the accounts do not match, TCAP does not quietly file the discrepancy beneath “lessons learned”.
It publishes it.
Alongside me is Oscar, the dog who witnessed the lot: grievances, disputed records, collapsing mental health, legal ambushes, passive-aggressive HR performances and enough corporate bullshit to fertilise several counties.
He remains TCAP’s head of emotional support and possesses considerably better judgment than some people who received public salaries for theirs.
Beyond Cummins
The original employment case may have provided TCAP’s foundations, but it no longer defines its boundaries.
This project will examine the accountability loops that allow institutions to investigate themselves, clear themselves and then cite their own clearance as proof that nothing happened.
Those loops exist inside private companies. They also run through public bodies, state departments, regulators and courts.
A complaint enters at one end. It travels through several impressive job titles, receives a reference number and eventually returns to the institution complained about.
Everyone has followed the procedure.
Nobody has answered the fucking question.
Courts, Judges And The Official Version
TCAP will examine the court system itself: the difference between what happens during a hearing and what later appears in writing, the treatment of unrepresented people, judicial prejudice, evidential double standards and complaint systems designed to preserve confidence rather than earn it.
My experience has left me somewhere I never expected to be: unable to trust court outcomes in my own country merely because a judge signed them.
I have seen how evidence can be filtered, oral reasoning sanitised, contradictions ignored and an official judgment granted authority it has not earned.
If this happened in my case, how many other victims are out there?
How many people have left a courtroom knowing the official record bore little resemblance to what had actually happened, but lacked the money, health or platform to challenge it?
How many were told to respect an outcome produced by the same machinery that had already failed them?
A justice system cannot survive indefinitely on robes, titles and public deference. Trust must come from what courts do, not from what they demand we believe about them.
This includes a related case involving the same court office where I had already encountered those institutional instincts once before. Different proceedings, familiar prejudices and the same machinery closing ranks around itself.
Whether that machinery is incompetent, prejudiced, bent or some rancid combination of all three should be determined from the evidence, not the crest above the door.
Giving Other People A Voice
TCAP is part investigation, part testimony, part archive and part protest.
It remains, when circumstances demand it, a poetic middle finger.
It is also becoming somewhere for other people to speak.
Workers, customers, suppliers and families often know what happened but cannot say it publicly. They have mortgages, careers and people depending upon them. Institutions rely upon that silence.
I read every email from anyone with a story to tell. TCAP will not publish somebody else’s identity or account without their agreement, but it will listen, preserve evidence and follow patterns wherever they lead.
I do not pretend to have the finished structure yet. TCAP grew because it had something genuine to say, not because somebody arrived with a five-year content strategy and a fucking PowerPoint deck.
It will continue growing in the same way: carefully where care is required, loudly where silence protects the wrong people and without asking permission from the institutions being examined.
We are not lawyers. We are not influencers.
We are still, fundamentally, one dog and a blog.
The case is over.
The record is only getting started.