Fagor no longer makes appliances: the brand is Polish and a spare part costs €13.65

Fagor no longer manufactures: it only rents its name to a Polish company

A broken fridge handle. Plastic, no screws, and a bill for €13.65. The second handle to snap on the same door. The scene, repeated in thousands of Spanish kitchens, is the tip of the iceberg of something bigger: the brand that was once a symbol of Basque industry now makes absolutely nothing. It just lends its logo.

The anger over the price of the spare part —€16 for the handle of a Balay, €30 for that of an LG, €70 for the seal of a Fagor freezer— is the pretext. The real issue is another: what is left of Fagor, who charges for that plastic and why the replacement for a part that costs cents to produce is priced like a dinner out.

What is left of Fagor: a brand with no factories

Fagor went bankrupt and its name ended up in court. Grupo Mondragón claimed ownership of the brand and the courts agreed: it keeps the name, but not the factories, the technology or the workers. The rest was bought by Cata, which also took over Edesa. Then came the deal with Polish firm Amica, keen to enter Spain with a recognised name. Result: appliances made in Poland that reach the market with the Fagor front in exchange for a percentage for Mondragón.

Those who insist Fagor "still exists" because they see shops with the sign and an active technical service are not entirely wrong: there is maintenance and there are spare parts. But the new product is another matter. The brand is a financial asset. The appliance is a Polish device with Chinese components, like almost everything.

The price of the spare part: why a piece of plastic costs €13.65

The replacement is not made by the brand. It passes through warehouses, intermediaries and distributors, and each one adds its margin. It is ordered by the unit, shipped in ridiculous volumes and stored for years in someone else's warehouse. That individual picking and low-volume shipping explain much of the mark-up. The part itself is worth cents.

Some go further and speak of price-fixing between manufacturers to squeeze whoever already has the appliance at home. There is no evidence of it in the material, but the pattern repeats: Balay, LG, Teka, Fagor. All charge similar amounts for equally simple parts. And the customer, with the fridge open and the door without a handle, pays whatever they ask.

Reliability: from the 1980 fridge to the throwaway appliance

Industrial nostalgia has a basis. A Fagor fridge from 1980 still works like the first day; the handle broke and was replaced with a wooden one. Another bought in 2001 failed before nine years. A Fagor ceramic hob from three decades ago is still going. The electronic board of a fridge was discontinued after four years.

The pattern repeats with other brands. A Balay dishwasher lasted three years; the washing machine, four. A four-year-old LG fridge has a dead control panel, LEDs off, jammed drawers and a temperature that fluctuates on its own. Durability depends on the model and when it came to market: the newer the design, the more likely its components are to fail sooner.

The alternative: printing the part at home

Against the official rip-off, the DIY response is gaining ground. Fusion 360, a 3D printer and a roll of ABS: the broken part is modelled and printed for cents. Others opt to screw on a conventional door knob. Repair stops being a business of the brand and returns to the owner's hands.

The problem is that most people don't have a printer or the inclination to learn to use one. And the manufacturer knows it. That is why the spare part remains the sector's most profitable business: the appliance is sold once, the part is sold every time it breaks.

Which brands withstand scrutiny

There is no consensus on where to apportion blame. Electrolux and Miele appear as the reliability benchmarks. Teka is described as German mid-range —though headquartered in Switzerland— that does the job without shining, specialising in sinks and extractor hoods. Bosch, once the enemy to beat for being expensive, also has its list of casualties. Edesa, another historic name, carries the same fruta as Fagor: recycled brand, premium price, uncertain origin.

The conclusion that imposes itself is uncomfortable: no brand guarantees anything. If the appliance turns out to be a dud, the logo doesn't matter. Loyalty to a name is a lottery with selective memory.

---

In the end, the €13.65 handle is the perfect metaphor for the sector. The brand that sold it no longer exists as a factory, the plastic is produced thousands of kilometres away and the customer pays for the part as if it were handmade. The fridge lasts fifteen years. The business is in something breaking every two.