SME forwarders are getting squeezed from three sides now. This isn't news. What's news is how few of them are doing anything structurally interesting about it.
On one side: the industrial-scale predators. Kuehne+Nagel, DSV, and the rest of the mega-forwarder menagerie. They don't compete in the old sense—they compress the playing field until independent forwarders asphyxiate. When they lean into a lane, you don't lose by a few points. You lose by existing.
On another side: carriers. Carriers are not designed to romance thousands of small accounts. They'll smile. They'll promise. They'll invite you to a "strategic catch-up" at a conference hotel bar. And then they'll allocate their attention where volume is predictable, cost-to-serve is low, and nobody's making them chase invoices across three time zones. Fragmentation is expensive. A long tail of SME negotiations isn't a relationship—it's pure cost center.
And now the third squeeze: Asian coloaders. They'll move your boxes, sure. They'll even do it cheaply. But you're not a partner—you're a line item. They clip margin on every container, offer zero transparency on carrier relationships, and turn your volume into their leverage while you stay invisible to the actual shipping lines. To the coloader, you're a number. To the carrier, you don't exist at all. You've outsourced your procurement and gotten commoditization in return.
So the SME forwarder lands in the worst possible position: too small to matter to carriers, too exposed to survive the giants, too opaque to coloaders to build anything strategic, and too busy firefighting daily exceptions to run procurement that isn't just "call someone and hope."
Enter procurement centers. Not a nice-to-have. The next structural upgrade.
A procurement center is collective bargaining for ocean freight, minus the pamphlets. You consolidate the one thing carriers actually care about—committed volume—and trade it for the things SMEs can't reliably get alone: competitive baselines, meaningful allocations, structured terms, and an actual seat at the table when service goes sideways.
But here's what matters more: it converts "random SME noise" into a single, legible commercial counterpart. One framework. One playbook. One data stream. One escalation path. Carriers can work with that. They cannot work with 80 different versions of the same conversation, each with its own Excel format and definition of "confirmed booking."
Unlike the coloader model, a procurement center gives you visibility. Your volumes are tracked, attributed, and leveraged on your behalf—not anonymized into someone else's negotiating position. You see the rates. You see the performance. You see where you stand. The margin isn't hidden; the structure is the product.
For the SME forwarder, the math is survival plus leverage:
- You keep your customer relationships and local edge. Nobody's asking you to become a branch office.
- You stop buying freight like it's a series of small emergencies.
- You gain rate and space stability you can actually quote without crossing your fingers.
- You share intelligence—benchmarks, performance data, contract hygiene—without surrendering your identity or your margins.
The punchline: procurement centers don't beat K+N and DSV by "being better forwarders." They beat them by changing the unit of competition. The fight stops being "SME vs giant" and becomes "organized volume vs disorganized volume." That's a fight worth having.
This isn't magic. Governance has to be real. Transparency has to be uncomfortable. Members have to behave like a portfolio, not a WhatsApp group with annual dues. But the direction is obvious: SMEs either aggregate their procurement power or get priced, allocated, and ignored into irrelevance.
The carriers aren't going to save you. The coloaders aren't going to credit you. The market isn't going to wait. Pick your corner or get counted out.