Inside Omega's space-age Swiss watch factory, where human artisans and robots work side-by-side

Three materials abound here and throughout the property – glass, concrete and wood, the last adding a much-needed warmth to the hard, colder edges. "This is an industrial manufacture," says Omega CEO Raynald Aeschlimann when we talk later, "yet we wanted to maintain a warm, special mood – hence all the wood, which is sourced only from Switzerland." 

Huge exposed beams of pale spruce are evident throughout, with Ban insisting that no screws be used in their assembly – only wooden pegs and traditional dovetailing techniques. More than 14,000 trees were cut down to build the factory, which sounds drastic, but all were replaced in accordance with Swiss law. "The entire volume of timber used in this project corresponds to just 2.6 hours of tree growth in Switzerland," says Ban.

Venture behind the impressive entrance, and one encounters the beating heart of the facility. This core space, visible through glass panels, and around which the factory is wrapped, houses the "central stock": 90ft long, 31ft wide and 47ft high, with four aisles, each serviced by a black robotic arm that runs at breakneck speed along a floor track.

Here, movements, dials, hands, bracelets, cases, screws, straps – all the necessary components – are stored on shelves in 30,000 boxes. The robotic arms whizz backwards and forwards performing up to 1,400 tasks per hour, delicately removing and replacing the boxes, their precision and velocity a mesmerising spectacle.

Only two people are trained to enter this area (at speeds of 13ft per second, the robotic arms would be impossible to outrun should you get in their way), while oxygen levels are lowered to 15.2 per cent (normal conditions are 21 per cent) to reduce the risk of fire.

Once retrieved, the boxes are placed by the robots on conveyor belts that snake around four of the building’s five floors. This child’s-train-track-cum-sushi-bar arrangement sees a continual and steady flow of materials at any given time.

"Our primary aim," says Aeschlimann, "was to create space for 350 watchmakers and to get the components to them in a fast, efficient way that was totally safe. It’s allowed us to create the most futuristic and technically advanced workplace in watchmaking." 

Robotics aside, the human element of the production process remained paramount for Ban. "My biggest concern was to create a nice space for everyone," he says. "I wanted the watchmakers to feel comfortable inside my building." To that end, fully adjustable workbenches have been provided for every watchmaker, each equipped with a tablet to create a paper-free environment.

As in all watch factories, dust is an important issue – a single speck can greatly affect the efficiency of a movement, or even stop it. Above each bank of desks, large white ventilation boxes press the air (and any particles) down to the floor, while vents positioned just above the anti-static floor pull air out; the whole space is essentially pressurised.

This cleanliness is key, with areas of assembly functioning at the level of a (Swiss) hospital. The result is that an open movement can be left untouched for two weeks on a workbench and remain dust-free.

Such an environment is strangely calming, with the methodical and precise work of those adding the hands to the dials particularly impressive. Minute slivers of metal are delivered to the watchmakers attached to card, like a dressmaker’s pins, before the steadiest of hands applies them with tweezers and meticulously screws them into place.

Everything is tiny, of course (one watchmaker half-jokes that the thread on one of the screws they use is the smallest in the world), and crucially everyone is absorbed in their work, with the only noise coming from the gentle hum of the ventilation system.

But assembly is only half of the story here. Testing the watches’ accuracy and performance in various conditions forms a crucial part of Omega’s mission. By 2020 the goal is for all mechanical watches (with very few exceptions) to have the Master Chronometer certification, a process that takes a minimum of 10 days and requires the fulfilment of eight criteria.

In this highly classified area of the factory, more robots are hard at work. One bright-orange robotic arm swings trays of timepieces into myriad positions (to mimic the movements of a wrist); a camera then takes pictures at 24-hour intervals before comparing their running times.

Another room varies the temperature from 23C to 33C. In a different area, two 1.5 tonne magnets submit the watches to 15,000 gauss, the same as an MRI scanner; a machine then listens to the movements for any discrepancies.

The watches’ ability to withstand water at significant depths is undertaken in another zone, with tanks that can mimic the pressure of up to 4,000ft. The subsequent test is charmingly simple among all the technology: the watches are gently warmed, then a dot of cold water is dropped on to each glass-covered dial – if any liquid has entered the case, condensation forms in cloudy droplets on the inside, a test best evaluated by the human eye.

Crucially, METAS, the Swiss Federal Institute of Metrology, has an office in the factory – this independent body ordinarily tests everything from the accuracy of car speedometers to the liquid volumes of bottled water. Random samples of watches are analysed by the federation, which allows accuracy post-testing to run between 0 and +5 seconds. Omega knows that in this crowded watch market, self-certification is virtually irrelevant.

Interestingly, Aeschlimann chose not to move from his current office on the Omega "campus" into the new light-filled building visible from his desk.

"People always ask me why I didn’t upgrade," he laughs. "My office isn’t there and I wouldn’t change that – it’s a production building and it’s dedicated to those producing our watches. They have the best because they are the creators." Indeed they are, albeit with a little help from a robot or two.

omegawatches.com