Pay matters for normal employees, not CEOs

Good on Barclays and Citigroup, but we need to focus on the pay of all employees, not just those at

Stories about shareholders challenging the size of CEO pay deals have been prominent in this week's business pages. Barclays have hurriedly amended the terms of Bob Diamond's bonus in the hope of avoiding the sort of embarrassment that Citigroup suffered when a majority of their investors rejected Vikram Pandit's remuneration package. 

In recent years, investors have been widely criticised for failing to address excessive executive pay, and while their current spate of activity is welcome there is strong evidence that they alone are incapable of systematically addressing the problem. Also, while investors (and companies, commentators and policy-makers) are now having serious conversations about executive pay, they are neglecting other problems around pay in the private sector – problems which have serious impacts on the company performance as well as on the wider economy and society. 

Articles about the pay of company CEOs are now common in, but there are far fewer stories about the pay of the wider workforce. The disproportionate focus on a tiny minority of employees is not confined to the media. Companies' annual reports are obliged to talk about pay at the top, but there is no such requirement with regard to pay at the bottom or middle. (Vince Cable recently rejected the idea of obliging companies to report on the ratio between CEO pay and that of a typical employee). This being the case, it is hardly surprising that investors engage very seldom with companies about wider workforce pay.

Companies, investors, commentators and policymakers frequently talk about the (probably incorrect) assumption that pay at the top must motivate executives by linking big rewards to company performance. There is far less talk about the correlation between narrow pay dispersion and improved company performance, or the detrimental effect of excessively low pay on the productivity, attendance, retention and mental health of low and middle ranking employees. Ignoring the wider workforce may suppress the performance of the wider company, but too often the pay of anyone outside the higher echelons is seen as a cost rather than an investment.

But investors (and policymakers) should also consider how workforce pay affects the wider economy. The CBI recently claimed that allowing minimum wage to fall behind inflation comes as "a relief" to "many hard-pressed firms", but forgets that many firms are hard-pressed because low-paid workers have little money to spend in the local economy. Excessively low pay also externalises huge costs to the taxpayer, either supplementing wages through benefits (about £6bn a year, according to the IFS) or meeting the social costs associated with in-work poverty.

Some investors have realised that companies have employees beyond the boardroom. Traditionally these have been ethical investors, whose actions may have been motivated more by ethics than investment, but some more mainstream investors (such as Hermes & NAPF) and commentators (such as the share centre) are now beginning to talk about the need to consider top pay in relation to workforce pay.

Beyond a few pioneers, shareholder interest in pay "beyond the boardroom" is pitifully limited. Hopefully investors themselves will take more of an interest in the business case for whole-workforce pay policies, but if their engagement with the issue of excessive executive pay is any thing to go on, that will take a very long time. We need both the media and policymakers to take a lead, by ensuring that the conversations they have with business leaders are not disproportionately about those business leaders.

Our businesses, economy and families need to move away from model that often appears to regard top pay is a matter of motivation and everyone else's pay as a matter of cost. If we do not move away from such a model, the economy will remain unnecessarily sluggish and brutal.

Cutting Bob Diamond's salary may bring the 1 per cent down, but does that help the 99 per cent? Photograph: Getty Images

Duncan Exley is the director of the Equality Trust

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A swimming pool and a bleeding toe put my medical competency in doubt

Doctors are used to contending with Google. Sometimes the search engine wins. 

The brutal heatwave affecting southern Europe this summer has become known among locals as “Lucifer”. Having just returned from Italy, I fully understand the nickname. An early excursion caused the beginnings of sunstroke, so we abandoned plans to explore the cultural heritage of the Amalfi region and strayed no further than five metres from the hotel pool for the rest of the week.

The children were delighted, particularly my 12-year-old stepdaughter, Gracie, who proceeded to spend hours at a time playing in the water. Towelling herself after one long session, she noticed something odd.

“What’s happened there?” she asked, holding her foot aloft in front of my face.

I inspected the proffered appendage: on the underside of her big toe was an oblong area of glistening red flesh that looked like a chunk of raw steak.

“Did you injure it?”

She shook her head. “It doesn’t hurt at all.”

I shrugged and said she must have grazed it. She wasn’t convinced, pointing out that she would remember if she had done that. She has great faith in plasters, though, and once it was dressed she forgot all about it. I dismissed it, too, assuming it was one of those things.

By the end of the next day, the pulp on the underside of all of her toes looked the same. As the doctor in the family, I felt under some pressure to come up with an explanation. I made up something about burns from the hot paving slabs around the pool. Gracie didn’t say as much, but her look suggested a dawning scepticism over my claims to hold a medical degree.

The next day, Gracie and her new-found holiday playmate, Eve, abruptly terminated a marathon piggy-in-the-middle session in the pool with Eve’s dad. “Our feet are bleeding,” they announced, somewhat incredulously. Sure enough, bright-red blood was flowing, apparently painlessly, from the bottoms of their big toes.

Doctors are used to contending with Google. Often, what patients discover on the internet causes them undue alarm, and our role is to provide context and reassurance. But not infrequently, people come across information that outstrips our knowledge. On my return from our room with fresh supplies of plasters, my wife looked up from her sun lounger with an air of quiet amusement.

“It’s called ‘pool toe’,” she said, handing me her iPhone. The page she had tracked down described the girls’ situation exactly: friction burns, most commonly seen in children, caused by repetitive hopping about on the abrasive floors of swimming pools. Doctors practising in hot countries must see it all the time. I doubt it presents often to British GPs.

I remained puzzled about the lack of pain. The injuries looked bad, but neither Gracie nor Eve was particularly bothered. Here the internet drew a blank, but I suspect it has to do with the “pruning” of our skin that we’re all familiar with after a soak in the bath. This only occurs over the pulps of our fingers and toes. It was once thought to be caused by water diffusing into skin cells, making them swell, but the truth is far more fascinating.

The wrinkling is an active process, triggered by immersion, in which the blood supply to the pulp regions is switched off, causing the skin there to shrink and pucker. This creates the biological equivalent of tyre treads on our fingers and toes and markedly improves our grip – of great evolutionary advantage when grasping slippery fish in a river, or if trying to maintain balance on slick wet rocks.

The flip side of this is much greater friction, leading to abrasion of the skin through repeated micro-trauma. And the lack of blood flow causes nerves to shut down, depriving us of the pain that would otherwise alert us to the ongoing tissue damage. An adaptation that helped our ancestors hunt in rivers proves considerably less use on a modern summer holiday.

I may not have seen much of the local heritage, but the trip to Italy taught me something new all the same. 

This article first appeared in the 17 August 2017 issue of the New Statesman, Trump goes nuclear