How to navigate the Spanish public sector procurement culture
- 6 hours ago
- 7 min read
The Swedish software firm had done everything correctly. They had registered on the public procurement platform. They had attended the pre-tender briefing. They had submitted a technically superior proposal at a competitive price. When the contract was awarded to a local competitor whose bid was higher and whose technical score was lower, the Swedish team requested the evaluator's notes, cross-referenced the scoring, and concluded that the process had been manipulated. They were probably right. What they had not understood was that the manipulation had started long before the tender was published, and that they had never been competing for the contract. They had been providing cover for a decision already made.
This is the central misread of Spanish public sector procurement. The outsider arrives at the formal stage of the process believing the formal stage is where the competition happens. It is not. In Spain, the competition happens in the years before the tender. The tender is frequently the documentation of a relationship, not the opening of one.
Alberto Dorrego understands this architecture better than most. A partner and head of public law at Eversheds Sutherland in Spain, he spent more than twenty years advising the Spanish Parliament before moving into private practice, where his team guides international companies through the Ley de Contratos del Sector Público, the LCSP, the statute that governs how Spain buys. He has authored the Chambers & Partners procurement guides for Spain for three consecutive years. His value to clients is not procedural. Any competent lawyer can read the statute. His value is that he knows the distance between what the statute says and what the market does, and he can explain why that distance exists and how long it will take to close.
Dorrego's reading, consistent across his published commentary, is that Spain's procurement market is structurally weighted toward incumbency. The contracting authority knows what it wants before it writes the specification. The specification, in many cases, is written around a relationship that already exists. That relationship was built through years of technical dialogue, site visits, pilot projects, joint working groups, and dinners. The foreign company that arrives at the published tender stage has, in most cases, arrived at the wrong moment.
This is not a claim that Spanish procurement is uniformly corrupt. It is a claim that it is relational in a way that Northern European buyers do not instinctively read as commercial. In Sweden, the Netherlands, or Germany, the published tender is the beginning. The specification is a neutral instrument. The relationship begins after award. In Spain, the relationship is the instrument. The specification reflects it. And the outsider, trained in markets where the document governs, keeps trying to win with a better document.
The numbers that matter here are not about corruption. They are about structure. Spain's single-bidder tender rate sits at 33%, against an EU average of 28%. That gap is not explained by fraud alone. Much of it is explained by the fact that the market has already sorted itself before the tender publishes. Companies without existing relationships do not bid, because they have learned that bidding without a relationship is an expensive way to lose. The market self-selects. The outsider, not yet knowing this, bids anyway.
The deeper architecture beneath this pattern is something Spaniards call confianza. The word translates as trust, but it carries more weight than the English word suggests. In Spanish professional culture, confianza is not a feeling. It is a status. It is conferred through time, through repeated interaction, through demonstrated discretion, and through the accumulated evidence that you will not behave erratically under pressure. It cannot be asserted. It cannot be purchased. It can only be accumulated. And it takes much longer to accumulate than any Northern European sales timeline typically allows.
The Swedish firm, in the story that opened this essay, had no confianza with the contracting authority. They had a product. They had a price. In their home market, that would have been sufficient. In Spain, product and price are entry conditions, not differentiators. The differentiator is the relationship that existed before the procurement process began.
This is where international companies most commonly go wrong in the second phase of their misread. Having lost once and understood that relationships matter, they attempt to accelerate the relationship. They hire a Spanish business development director and ask for results within a year. They bring the government affairs lead to Madrid for a week of meetings. They identify a well-connected intermediary who promises access to decision-makers and charges accordingly. Each of these moves reflects the same assumption: that relationship-building is a process that can be compressed if you apply enough resource to it. In Spain, it cannot. Confianza is time-denominated. There is no shortcut to it.
The intermediary question deserves particular attention, because it is where the misread becomes most costly. Spain has a mature class of consultants, lobbyists, advisers, and fixers who position themselves as bridges between foreign companies and Spanish public institutions. Some of them are exactly what they claim to be: people with genuine relationships, deep sector knowledge, and the patience to play a long game on behalf of a client. Many of them are not. The market for intermediaries is opaque precisely because their value is defined by relationships that cannot be externally verified. A consultant who claims proximity to a ministry director-general may be telling the truth. He may also be selling access to someone he met at a conference three years ago and has emailed twice since.
The Koldo García case illustrated the extreme version of this dynamic. García served as an adviser to the Ministry of Transport between 2018 and 2021. According to prosecutors, he provided a company called Soluciones de Gestión with information on procurement processes and acted as a mediator to help it obtain contracts. The alleged scheme involved commissions on pandemic-era contracts worth tens of millions of euros. García was arrested in 2024, and by November 2025 he was in custody at Soto del Real prison alongside former minister José Luis Ábalos, assessed as a flight risk. The case became known as Caso Koldo and expanded well beyond its original scope. It is the forensic record of what happens when the intermediary class operates without constraint, and it is unusual only in that it became public.
What it illustrates for the outsider is not that intermediaries should be avoided. It is that the intermediary market in Spain spans a very wide range, from the irreplaceable to the dangerous, and that the foreign company without deep local knowledge cannot easily distinguish between the two. The consultant who appears to have ministerial access may have it legitimately, through years of professional service and earned respect. Or he may have it through mechanisms that will eventually become a criminal exhibit. The two types can be almost indistinguishable from the outside, particularly in the early stages of a relationship.
The FCS Select Products case, which surfaced in the post-pandemic transparency investigations, demonstrated the same mechanism at different scale. An energy drinks company based in Barcelona, with no prior experience in health sector procurement, signed four contracts with the Ministry of Health in a single day in March 2020 totalling more than 217 million euros. The company's director had a prior fraud conviction. After those four contracts, the company never won another Spanish public contract. It was a pure intermediary play executed at extraordinary speed under emergency procedures that bypassed normal competitive requirements. The Civio journalism collective's analysis of pandemic procurement found that 16,589 emergency contracts were issued that year, many with publication delays averaging 43 days beyond the legal requirement. The FCS case was the extreme. The pattern was widespread.
What the outsider takes from this, correctly, is that the Spanish public procurement market has real shadow zones. What the outsider often takes from it incorrectly is that these shadow zones define the whole market. They do not. The majority of Spanish public procurement operates within the formal LCSP framework. Hospitals, regional governments, municipal authorities, state-owned enterprises, and EU-funded infrastructure projects all operate through published procedures with scoring rubrics and review mechanisms. The Central Procurement Court received more than 1,600 formal claims in 2024. The appeal infrastructure exists and is used. The market is not uniformly opaque. It is structurally relationship-weighted, which is a different condition.
The practical consequence of this distinction is significant. A foreign company that writes off the Spanish public sector as too corrupted to enter is leaving a market worth more than 130 billion euros annually in public procurement activity. A foreign company that enters it believing that the right intermediary will unlock it quickly will spend money on intermediaries and lose time, before eventually discovering that the relationships they needed took longer to build than they assumed, and that some of the relationships they paid for were never real.
The correction that works, and that Alberto Dorrego's kind of practice is built around, is patience reframed as strategy. The companies that succeed in Spanish public procurement tend to enter through technically legitimate means: EU-funded projects where procurement transparency is externally enforced, joint ventures with established Spanish firms that carry existing confianza with the contracting authority, or pilot programmes that create a track record before a major tender. They invest in technical dialogue with contracting authorities during the pre-market consultation phase, which is legal, documented, and specifically designed to allow suppliers to shape future specifications. They build relationships with the civil servants who write the specifications, not just the politicians who announce the contracts. And they operate on a timeline measured in years, not quarters.
This is where the Northern European executive typically hits the cultural wall most directly. The quarterly reporting cycle, the investor relations calendar, the internal pressure to show market entry progress within twelve months, all of these create an urgency that Spanish public sector timelines do not accommodate. The average procurement decision in Spain takes 110 days from tender publication to award. That is the procedural minimum, after the relationship work is already done. The relationship work itself might take three to five years. The foreign company that entered Spain with an eighteen-month runway to prove the public sector channel will fail not because Spain rejected them, but because they measured the market against a clock it does not use.
The Spanish public sector buys slowly, from people it knows, through processes that often formalise decisions already made. That architecture has been in place for decades. The new enforcement infrastructure, the AI screening tools, the whistleblower authority, the CNMC's expanded debarment powers, will modify it at the margins over time. It will not transform it quickly. The companies that understand this are in a position to build the kind of presence that eventually becomes competitive. The companies that do not understand it keep arriving at the tender stage believing the competition is just beginning.
What the outsider rarely considers is that the cost of the misread is not the lost contract. Lost contracts are visible. The real cost is the years spent pursuing the wrong strategy at the wrong speed, while competitors who understood the market were quietly building the relationships that would eventually be documented in a specification. By the time the outsider recognises what happened, the relationship they needed is already in the award notice.



