Eight companies where executives are paid 1000 times more than employees

Research by Bloomberg reveals the extent of the pay gap between executives and employees at 250 companies.

Yesterday Swiss voters rejected a proposal to cap executive pay at twelve times that of junior employees. The referendum was opposed by 65 per cent of voters, and the turnout for the vote was surprisingly high – the highest in three years, in fact – at 53 per cent.

Earlier this year, Bloomberg conducted research into CEO to employee pay ratios at the top 250 companies from Standard & Poor’s 500 Index. Needless to say, not one pays ordinary employees anywhere near a twelfth of their executives’ salaries – the lowest executive to employee pay ratio on the list is 173:1 (at Agilent technologies). Eight companies pay their executives over 1000 times more than they pay their average worker.

Six out of the top ten highest-ranked companies in terms of CEO:employee pay ratios are consumer companies. There are four clothing firms (JC Penney, Abercrombie and Fitch, Nike and Ralph Lauren) and two food companies (Starbucks and Yum! – which owns brands like Taco Bell and Pizza Hut). To take the example of Starbucks, its UK sales didn't suffer any long-term damage from news of its creative tax accounting, so it's unlikely to be too worried about the PR implications of its unfair pay scales - perhaps the average consumer, like Swiss voters, doesn't really care. I, however, am happy to boycott all six until their executives explain just how they are 800 times more valuable than their average employee.

Here is a list of the top ten companies with the highest CEO to employee pay ratios, according to Bloomberg’s research:

JC Penney Co. 1795:1
Abercrombie & Fitch 1640:1
Simon Property 1594:1
Oracle Corp: 1287:1
Starbucks: 1135:1
CBS Corp 1111:1
Ralph Lauren 1083:1
Nike 1050:1
Discovery Communications: 833:1
Yum! Brands Inc 819:1

The City of London. Photo: Getty.

Sophie McBain is a freelance writer based in Cairo. She was previously an assistant editor at the New Statesman.

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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