Censorship bars: The new corporate design of BLS

There are moments when you wonder if you're living in Switzerland or in a well-oiled satire show that simply never got canceled. The BLS scandal definitely belongs in the latter category. While ordinary people try to pay their health insurance premiums through honest work, BLS decided for years that taxpayers' money would be much better off in their own pockets. If nobody notices. Or doesn't want to notice.

Since 2020, we've officially known what had long been internal gossip since 2013: BLS pumps half-fare travelcard revenue into its promotional offerings until it overflows, at which point the state scoops it back in as "compensation." Around 70 million Swiss francs – a figure that not even the most incompetent accountant could explain away as "accident." But no problem: We have PwC! They were allowed to sift through 392 gigabytes of data, interview hundreds of people, analyze mountains of emails – and in doing so, uncovered a symphony of deleted mailboxes, vanished minutes, and memory lapses reminiscent of an Alzheimer's festival. Eight former executives without archives? Twelve missing meeting documents? You'd think a vacuum cleaner had sped through the management team.

Of course, management knew. At least since 2017, probably much earlier. But that's totally fine, because the then-CEO, Bernard Guillelmon, was... uh... fired? After "pressure"? Naturally, without any admission of guilt. And how does one react to such a scandal? Logically: one redacts the PwC report. Thick black bars over names, quotes, responsibilities – like a mafia comic, only less charming.

The federal government? The canton? One side is playing "We are outraged!", the other "We will examine this carefully!". And together they are playing "Please look away, citizens, this is all highly complex."

Meanwhile, the new BLS management shines with reform: a new culture, whistleblowing, reduced bonuses. Five percent maximum! None at all for lower-level managers! The only problem: they get to keep the old bonuses of the previous bosses, which were based on precisely these subsidy lies. A cynic might think of the proverb: "Corruption doesn't pay." But it does. In Bern, most certainly.

The gaze calls it «70 million scamProfessor Kunz calls it a clear-cut case of a refund. BLS calls it "the past." And the taxpayer asks, "Why do I always pay?"

And now comes the part that would make you laugh out loud if it weren't so tragic: The disgraced former CEO Guillelmon – the man whose name would have been completely redacted in the PwC report if everyone didn't already know him – now tours universities as a lecturer. "Strategic Management in Public Transport." That's roughly equivalent to a bank robber teaching children financial literacy.

The man lectures in Lucerne. In Bern. In Spiez. Sometimes even in BLS premises. I suppose you could call that "corporate humor".

But hey, don't worry: Switzerland is stable. Our state-owned enterprises are exemplary. Transparency is paramount – especially when it can be obscured. Those responsible are held accountable – at the podium, mind you.

And us?
We'll pay.
And pay.
And sometimes they even applaud.

This country is not corrupt.
It's simply... efficiently organized.