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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Inside a shaken city: "I just want to be anywhere that’s not Manchester”

The morning after the bombing of the Manchester Arena has left the city's residents jumpy.

On Tuesday morning, the streets in Manchester city centre were eerily silent.

The commuter hub of Victoria Station - which backs onto the arena - was closed as police combed the area for clues, and despite Mayor Andy Burnham’s line of "business as usual", it looked like people were staying away.

Manchester Arena is the second largest indoor concert venue in Europe. With a capacity crowd of 18,000, on Monday night the venue was packed with young people from around the country - at least 22 of whom will never come home. At around 10.33pm, a suicide bomber detonated his device near the exit. Among the dead was an eight-year-old girl. Many more victims remain in hospital. 

Those Mancunians who were not alerted by the sirens woke to the news of their city's worst terrorist attack. Still, as the day went on, the city’s hubbub soon returned and, by lunchtime, there were shoppers and workers milling around Exchange Square and the town hall.

Tourists snapped images of the Albert Square building in the sunshine, and some even asked police for photographs like any other day.

But throughout the morning there were rumours and speculation about further incidents - the Arndale Centre was closed for a period after 11.40am while swathes of police descended, shutting off the main city centre thoroughfare of Market Street.

Corporation Street - closed off at Exchange Square - was at the centre of the city’s IRA blast. A postbox which survived the 1996 bombing stood in the foreground while officers stood guard, police tape fluttering around cordoned-off spaces.

It’s true that the streets of Manchester have known horror before, but not like this.

I spoke to students Beth and Melissa who were in the bustling centre when they saw people running from two different directions.

They vanished and ducked into River Island, when an alert came over the tannoy, and a staff member herded them through the back door onto the street.

“There were so many police stood outside the Arndale, it was so frightening,” Melissa told me.

“We thought it will be fine, it’ll be safe after last night. There were police everywhere walking in, and we felt like it would be fine.”

Beth said that they had planned a day of shopping, and weren’t put off by the attack.

“We heard about the arena this morning but we decided to come into the city, we were watching it all these morning, but you can’t let this stop you.”

They remembered the 1996 Arndale bombing, but added: “we were too young to really understand”.

And even now they’re older, they still did not really understand what had happened to the city.

“Theres nowhere to go, where’s safe? I just want to go home,” Melissa said. “I just want to be anywhere that’s not Manchester.”

Manchester has seen this sort of thing before - but so long ago that the stunned city dwellers are at a loss. In a city which feels under siege, no one is quite sure how anyone can keep us safe from an unknown threat

“We saw armed police on the streets - there were loads just then," Melissa said. "I trust them to keep us safe.”

But other observers were less comforted by the sign of firearms.

Ben, who I encountered standing outside an office block on Corporation Street watching the police, was not too forthcoming, except to say “They don’t know what they’re looking for, do they?” as I passed.

The spirit of the city is often invoked, and ahead of a vigil tonight in Albert Square, there will be solidarity and strength from the capital of the North.

But the community values which Mancunians hold dear are shaken to the core by what has happened here.

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