In the industrial world, strategies come and go, but some leave an indelible mark. The PQT strategy was one of them. Driven by the then Vice President of Production, Dr. Andreas Tostmann, this initiative forever changed the way we at SEAT understood and lived production. For six years, I had the privilege of being part of this transformation, and today I want to share my experience—with its lights and shadows—but above all, with deep respect for what it represented.
What was PQT?
It all began after the launch of the Audi Q3 at the Martorell plant, which triggered a deep restructuring and brought with it the arrival of Dr. Tostmann as Vice President and several other key figures.
This launch was no ordinary project: it was the first Audi to be manufactured at a SEAT plant. It was an enormous challenge, as it was meant to demonstrate—conclusively—that the quality of a SEAT could match that of an Audi.
PQT focused on three pillars: Productivity, Quality, and Team, with a clear priority: Quality. For the first time, production had its own strategy—logo included (although the design was debatable… but we were from production, not marketing). This strategy did not replace SEAT’s overall strategy, but rather reinforced it from the day-to-day operational reality.
A strategy with pillars… and owners
Each pillar had an owner: one of the directors from the production committee. They were responsible for translating the strategy into their area, reporting monthly to the PQT committee, chaired by the Vice President of Production and the Director of Quality as the project’s top authorities.
The PQT strategy was deployed through ten major initiatives covering operational efficiency—in both serial production and supply chain as well as product launches—quality in all its dimensions (internal and external), sustainability, and finally team culture, knowledge management, expertise, and technology.
It was primarily in the technology chapter where I became more actively involved, especially after joining the Engineering department. My participation grew with the arrival of technological initiatives such as collaborative robotics, where we were pioneers with a KUKA IIWA. Initially, it was about scouting new technologies that could offer some advantage. Later, things became more complex, and the level of demand increased significantly. Every advancement had to be backed with data, impact, and measurable results, which fostered a climate of high expectations… and great motivation.
Side A: Vision, method, and results focus
PQT gave us methodology. It forced us to structure, prioritize, and demonstrate. But it also broke silos. The driving force it imposed for collaboration was capable of dissolving resistance. Anything bearing the PQT seal guaranteed collaboration—even when it went beyond production and entered areas like HR, Finance, or Procurement. It created an unwritten policy of cross-functional collaboration that gave rise to truly ambitious projects. One of them was the design of a proposal for an internal collaboration platform, which radically changed how we interacted within the company. Without knowing it, we were envisioning something very similar to what would later become Microsoft Office 365.
On the other hand, this urgency to show progress also reduced bureaucracy in certain areas. No one wanted to be the “jobstopper,” so many blockages simply disappeared under the pressure for results. However, the German mindset imposed extremely detailed and tedious reports, full of text with no added value that no one dared to question for fear of contradicting hierarchy. That was one of the weak points of the project management office: it failed to adapt the bureaucracy to the agility the strategy demanded.
And not only that. PQT also gave visibility to people who had been in the background—like myself. It promoted a renewal of leadership from within, bringing forward profiles with ideas and a desire to contribute.
Side B: Grey areas, tensions, and internal politics
However, the downside of PQT was that it sometimes distracted attention from the real core business, which could have a negative effect. On one hand, it triggered resistance when some felt their resources were being diverted to fund PQT activities. On the other, it fueled not-so-healthy competition among different players eager to be first in line for praise or recognition.
In my view, the PQT project management office lacked the method to mediate and harmonize. It clearly needed a body, at a lower level, capable of establishing method, resolving doubts, and putting things in order without constantly escalating issues—what we call having a deft touch.
A legacy without continuity
When Dr. Tostmann left the company, the PQT strategy disappeared with him. There was no real or firm intention to maintain or evolve it. Many of us felt orphaned without a framework that—despite its flaws—had provided clarity, rigor, and a sense of purpose. A clear example of a culture of continuous improvement and strategic collaboration.
To me, PQT remains a benchmark. I don’t consider it a strategy in the strict sense—since a strategy should be holistic and affect the entire organization, not just production. But I do firmly believe it was an excellent method to deploy the operational side of a broader strategy.
I don’t know if Dr. Tostmann plans to write a book someday titled «The Tostmann Method», but I sincerely believe it would work—especially if it captures the lessons learned, integrates the necessary improvements that many of us experienced firsthand, and adds true governance: committed, agile, with a deft touch, facilitating the process, smoothing out rough edges, and ensuring collective success.
Dr. Tostmann knew how to communicate—or rather, how to make himself felt. It wasn’t so much what he said, but how he made you feel it. Sometimes, one look said more than an entire sentence. In those high-level meetings, where everyone brought numbers and promises, he had the ability to observe, understand, and decide with a silent decisiveness that imposed respect without ever raising his voice.
PQT brought out the best—and the worst. I was lucky to experience both, but without a doubt, I cherish what I learned. It was an intense, transformative stage—and in many ways, an unforgettable one.