Why nobody wants to admit they're part of the 1 per cent

A culture of secrecy over executive pay is holding back attempts to tackle inequality.

Last week another public figure, the Archbishop of York, Dr John Sentamu, had his two penn'orth on top executive pay, decrying the excesses of the financial sector as unfair and bad for society. But for all the air time given to the issue of levels of pay, discussing how much we are paid remains a social taboo - a subject best avoided in polite circles.

It raises the question - how do we address the thorny issues of high levels of pay amongst elite groups in society and income inequality, if we do not know how high earners themselves think about their pay and its effect on society? Changing behaviour is always tough, but in this case will be particularly difficult without a better understanding of how high earners see the world and their place in it.

To shed more light on this, the High Pay Commission, an independent inquiry into top pay in the private sector, commissioned Ipsos MORI to talk to a group of top earners - people in the top 1 per cent of the UK's income distribution.

The research shows that the taboo around discussing your pay inhibits rational debate on the subject and distorts the way top earners see their salaries.

First, hardly anyone who took part in the study considered themselves to be rich. High earners feel closer to the "squeezed middle" than the "super rich". They considered that their costs of living were too high for them to be more than "comfortably off". For them, "rich" means Bill Gates rich - having too much to be realistically able to spend.

Transparency around pay is not a cultural norm in the UK. There is a culture of secrecy over pay for many high earners. Some have little basis for comparison, aside from occasional conversations with headhunters. And the more senior they get, the more difficult it is to discuss pay.

They are not immune to the current media commentary on pay and discussions of bankers' bonuses. Compared to a similar sample of high earners in 2008, these high earners are more thoughtful about the way society values them and less likely to claim that they deserve their pay purely through their own hard work and skills.

So, satisfaction with pay is based on a sense of entitlement - if that is what the industry pays, that is what I should be getting. They do not justify their high pay by claiming that they work harder than everyone else or have more specialist skills. Some told us that they bring value to their companies which exceed their salary cost. But at the same time, they acknowledge that an individual's contribution to corporate success is hard to quantify and so pay does not always reflect individual performance.

Instead, the people who are paid most are those who are best at pay negotiations and "selling" themselves effectively.

Overall, they recognise that there is income inequality and they are to a great extent fortunate to earn what they do. They feel some industries simply pay high and there is a hefty dose of luck involved.

Here lies the tricky issue. High earners believe high pay is an institutional, global and systemic phenomenon. They also mention a number of social benefits coming from having high earners in our midst - for example, they believe in the trickle-down effect of high salaries to the rest of society.

There may be potential to communicate with high earners about changing the way society values different incomes, but they do not have faith that any local interventions around equalising pay would work.

Those in the City felt that asking the City in particular to behave differently is unlikely to work - as it only answers to its own rules.

So where does this leave public policy on the issue?

In a world where high earners do not talk about their pay and underestimate how close to the top they are, something is needed to get high earners out of their "bubble" - to take high pay out of the shadows and make it clear how different the top 1 per cent are from the other 99 per cent.

Ministers have urged companies to publish salaries voluntarily. It seems unlikely that many companies will accept the invitation. But however it is achieved, greater transparency about salaries might help high earners themselves understand the challenges of income inequality - and get on board with an agenda to reduce it.

Sarah Castell is Head of Qualitative Methods at Ipsos MORI

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Rarely has it mattered so little if Manchester United won; rarely has it been so special they did

Team's Europa League victory offers chance for sorely needed celebration of a city's spirit.

Carlo Ancelotti, the Bayern Munich manager, memorably once said that football is “the most important of the least important things”, but he was only partly right. While it is absolutely the case that a bunch of people chasing around a field is insignificant, a bunch of people chasing around a field is not really what football is about.

At a football match can you set aside the strictures that govern real life and freely scream, shout and cuddle strangers. Football tracks life with such unfailing omnipresence, garnishing the mundane with regular doses of drama and suspense; football is amazing, and even when it isn’t there’s always the possibility that it’s about to be.

Football bestows primal paroxysms of intense, transcendent ecstasy, shared both with people who mean everything and people who mean nothing. Football carves out time for people it's important to see and delivers people it becomes important to see. Football is a structure with folklore, mythology, language and symbols; being part of football is being part of something big, special, and eternal. Football is the best thing in the world when things go well, and still the best thing in the world when they don’t. There is nothing remotely like it. Nothing.

Football is about community and identity, friends and family; football is about expression and abandon, laughter and song; football is about love and pride. Football is about all the beauty in the world.

And the world is a beautiful place, even though it doesn’t always seem that way – now especially. But in the horror of terror we’ve seen amazing kindness, uplifting unity and awesome dignity which is the absolute point of everything.

In Stockholm last night, 50,000 or so people gathered for a football match, trying to find a way of celebrating all of these things. Around town before the game the atmosphere was not as boisterous as usual, but in the ground the old conviction gradually returned. The PA played Bob Marley’s Three Little Birds, an Ajax staple with lyrics not entirely appropriate: there is plenty about which to worry, and for some every little thing is never going to be alright.

But somehow the sentiment felt right and the Mancunian contingent joined in with gusto, following it up with “We’ll never die,” – a song of defiance born from the ashes of the Munich air disaster and generally aired at the end of games, often when defeat is imminent. Last night it was needed from the outset, though this time its final line – “we’ll keep the red flag flying high, coz Man United will never die" – was not about a football team but a city, a spirit, and a way of life. 

Over the course of the night, every burst of song and even the minute's silence chorused with that theme: “Manchester, Manchester, Manchester”; “Manchester la la la”; “Oh Manchester is wonderful”. Sparse and simple words, layered and complex meanings.

The match itself was a curious affair. Rarely has it mattered so little whether or not United won; rarely has it been so special that they did. Manchester United do not represent or appeal to everyone in Manchester but they epitomise a similar brilliance to Manchester, brilliance which they take to the world. Brilliance like youthfulness, toughness, swagger and zest; brilliance which has been to the fore these last three days, despite it all.

Last night they drew upon their most prosaic aspects, outfighting and outrunning a willing but callow opponent to win the only trophy to have eluded them. They did not make things better, but they did bring happiness and positivity at a time when happiness and positivity needed to be brought; football is not “the most important of the least important things,” it is the least important of the most important things.

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