The news that Don Watson Transport is closing its doors after 77 years has hit many in the transport industry hard.
More than just a business, the Watson name is a symbol of professionalism, innovation, and staying power. There’s no denying the sadness felt by many.
This wasn’t just another transport company, it was an institution. Yet what should have been a moment of reflection of a good company, social media has released some ugly comments and unearned criticism. Let’s be clear: No one owes us an explanation for choosing to close their business.
The decision to step away is deeply personal and often painfully complex. It can be influenced by succession, health, lifestyle, changing priorities, or simply a desire to enjoy the life that hard work made possible.
We may mourn their leaving, but we should be thankful they were ever in our industry at all.
Industry can be harsh
This demands long hours, hard calls, and often asks people to put family and health on hold. It’s no surprise that many in transport end up burnt out or see their relationships break down under the pressure.
So, when someone makes a decision, for whatever reason, to walk away – with their dignity intact, their family beside them, and their health still in hand – why are we questioning them? Why are we not celebrating their achievements?
Closing a business after 77 years isn’t failure of them as business owners. It shows strength. It’s the ability to say, “We gave it everything. And now it’s time for a new chapter.”
Change the narrative
There’s a strange culture in business, especially in the transport industry, that glorifies pushing through until burnout but is leery of those who choose peace.
When someone says, ‘enough is enough’ and they choose to spend more time with family or focus on health, we shouldn’t dismiss these as simple clichés. They should be celebrated as goals that too few people ever reach.
Why would someone want to run a business into the ground before being carried away on a stretcher? Why wouldn’t someone want to spend the rest of their life with the people they love, not just the business they built? If anything, we should applaud those who make the informed decision to take that step; not pick apart their reasons. And maybe – just maybe – some of the judgment we’re seeing isn’t really about the Watsons at all.
Is it jealousy?
There’s a quiet truth behind many of the critical voices: They’re tired. They’re struggling. And they may be wondering how someone managed to do what they feel they never could.
Retiring on your own terms, after decades of contribution, without scandal or failure, is something rare. And because it’s rare, it can stir up resentment in those who feel trapped – by their business, by financial pressure, by the demands of the industry they love, but which no longer loves them back.
Jealousy doesn’t always look like envy. Sometimes it looks like cynicism, or nitpicking, or twisting someone else’s choice into something selfish or suspect.
But perhaps the real discomfort is this: Deep down, many people wish they could do the same.
If that’s the case, we should acknowledge it for what it is, and take steps to rectify the issue. Not punish those who had the courage and the smarts to step away gracefully.
Why are we losing the good ones?
The closure of a company like Don Watson Transport doesn’t just mark the end of a chapter; it may signal a deeper problem within parts of the road freight sector.
While the cost of doing business continues to rise (fuel, insurance, equipment, wages, compliance) there’s unrelenting pressure from customers to absorb costs without passing them on.
The expectation is simple: Do more for less. Blind Freddy can see that’s unsustainable.
Each year, major clients push rates down while increasing service demands. For many operators, this means running razor-thin margins just to retain contracts.
There’s pride in keeping people employed and freight moving, but there comes a point where the smart ones realise that while they might still be liquid, they’re no longer viable.
That’s not a failure of them as businesspeople. That’s sound judgement.
The operators we’re losing are often those who have invested in doing the right thing. They build safe systems, train their people, and invest in compliance, equipment, technology, and transparency. Their reputations are hard-earned. But reputation doesn’t pay invoices, and it doesn’t shield them from economic pressure.
Meanwhile, others continue to operate despite repeated breaches of the Heavy Vehicle National Law.
Some have been before the courts multiple times, yet continue to win work. They compete on price alone, not principles. They cut corners and undermine those who follow the rules.
Customers choose them based almost solely on price, while those putting everything in place to be as safe as possible quietly disappear.
What’s even worse is when a large company wins the work and hires the company that doesn’t comply to do the contractor piece.
Where is the fairness?
When the entire burden of compliance is worn by a transport operator, and they’re left choosing between paying for maintenance, superannuation, taxes or putting food on the table, the chain of responsibility isn’t just stretched, it’s broken.
We need a reset. A recommitment. A genuine reckoning with what we’re asking of those who carry this country’s freight.
Until we draw a line in the stand and make customers liable for poor accounting practices that punish those who move their freight, the slow exodus will continue. And one day, we’ll realise we’ve lost not just businesses, but the backbone of an industry built on integrity.
My connection to the Watsons
While I never met Don Watson himself, I’ve had the privilege of knowing his incredible wife, Noelene, and their son, Lyndon.
Noelene Watson is someone I admire deeply. She sets a benchmark in resilience and tenacity that all people could aspire to.
When Don passed away in 1994 at aged 42, his young wife, Noelene, faced enormous doubt, including from the family’s own bank manager. How could this inexperienced woman know anything about this trucking business?
But she did, and she learned, and not only did the business survive, it thrived. Noelene stood tall in an industry that doesn’t always make room for women, let alone women in leadership, and she didn’t just carry the load; she carried our industry.
She served as Chair of the Australian Trucking Association for three years, sat on the board for 10, and was heavily involved with NatRoad, including nine years on the board and five as treasurer.
Fierce but friendly, Noelene is someone I’ve always tried to learn from. Noelene has more insight in a single conversation than most acquire in a career.
Her son Lyndon has that same depth of wisdom, earned, not inherited. He’s been under the trucks, behind the wheel, and in the office. As Vice Chair of the Industry Technical Council, his insight has always been practical, respectful, steady and grounded.
He’s also a genuinely lovely human being. With a young family of his own, I don’t blame him one bit for wanting to spend more time with those who truly matter. I hope he gets that time in abundance.
Wishing them joy
The Watson family has always had a love of fishing, something I hope they continue to enjoy for many years to come. After all they’ve given to this industry, they deserve the calm, the quiet, and the simple joy of casting a line with the people they love most.
They’ve made a difficult decision with clarity and insight that’s not always common, in any industry; and they’re leaving on their terms.
And in our industry at least, that’s the rarest kind of success.
Jodie Broadbent is the founder of Know the Road, which provides consulting auditing and training services for road freight supply chain partners, and the Co-CEO and Director of Department of Future.
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