Executive pay is like a slow-moving version of MPs’ expenses
car crash, but without the degree of self-awareness shown by politicians (who do face a
meaningful threat of removal from office). Each year the same headlines, each
year the same justifications, each year a bit more legitimacy lost. This may
continue for years to come, in the way that a car with flat tyres can keep
driving on its rims. But you have to choose to not listen to not to hear the
screeching. And it really takes a highly-educated mind to conclude that
politicians are somehow turning executive pay into a political issue, rather
than reacting to problem that won’t go away.
As the newly-installed leader of a Conservative majority
government, Theresa May’s intervention on executive pay shows that a third
flavour of political administration (previously Labour, then the Tory-Lib Dem
coalition) is going to have a crack at the problem. Politicians are not
uniquely attracted to executive pay as an issue, they are responding to the
prevailing view that the business elite is out of touch, with executives enriching
themselves and paying little attention to the needs of others in society.
Despite this, some people apparently think the obvious
response is to indulge in another round of what we have tried before. Leave it
to the shareholders, they say, it’s their money, and they have an incentive to
act if need be. I won’t beat about the bush: I think this stance is both
idiotic and emblematic of a deeper problem in corporate governance and
responsible investment.
Let’s look at how we got here. We have left it to the shareholders. And lots of otherwise clever
people in the business of managing capital have long contended that we are
wrong to get annoyed by executive pay, and that it’s a small cost in exchange
for the large benefit of executive talent. They have offered instead the
technical fix of performance-related pay. “What matters is structure, not
scale,” they have told us each time anger has threatened to boil over.
We have been through several rounds of technical fixes, each
of which has decided that the political problem of high executive pay is best
solved by giving asset managers more information, and more power to shape it as
they see fit. The result has been repeated attempts to redesign
performance-related pay, with no real downwards pressure on scale.
Provided with the tools to challenge companies in the shape
of increased shareholder voting powers, asset managers have used them to give
the large majority of executives and their pay packages overwhelming support.
Judged by this metric, the only one that really counts, the picture is clear:
the public thinks there is a big problem with executive pay, asset managers largely
don’t. There is an enormous gap between beneficiaries and those that manage
their capital.
Even the small steps that some shareholders have taken to
address executive pay seem utterly feeble to most people. One personal
experience illustrates the problem. I did a radio interview during the
so-called shareholder spring of 2012 where I explained we were advising shareholders
oppose a particular executive pay policy, on the basis that it was excessive.
An old mate of mine heard the interview and texted me to say “people actually pay
you to tell them that?” Fair point.
Yet to articulate what ordinary members of the public think about
executive pay is to invite criticism that this isn’t the “smart” response, and
that the issue is becoming “political” (as if the distribution of rewards
hasn’t always been a fundamentally political issue). Rather than directly
address the repeatedly expressed view that executives are simply paid too much,
most investors and their advisers seem far more comfortable re-interpreting
this anger as a need for more “performance linkage”.
For example, one of the recent “big ideas” in responsible
investment is to tie executive pay to ESG metrics. Aside from the questionable
effectiveness of this approach, given evidence that monetary rewards can crowd
out other motivations, to a less “informed” person it could look a bit like
executives needing to be paid more to behave well. Similarly we are regularly
told that if we want asset managers to devote more attention to ESG issues we
have to pay for it. To which I might reply: “People actually have to pay you to
use their own money in their interests?”
The blind adherence to the 1990s vintage Anglo-American
corporate governance model is striking. When Theresa May puts forward a vague
commitment to employee representation on company boards - something in place
across numerous European countries - the immediate response of one asset
manager was to write to the FT to say shareholders will resent it. At any stage
are the views of beneficiaries, some of whom presumably could end up as
employee representatives on boards, ever considered? I doubt the idea that
beneficiaries might have views, which might even have validity, is given a
second thought.
A regularly heard refrain is the need to “keep politics out
of it”, whether it’s executive pay, investment decision-making, engagement
priorities or pension fund governance. The clear preference is for technocrats
to determine what gets done, and how. Keep out the views of the ordinary
punter, and the politicians, the professional intermediaries know best. Rarely
is there recognition that everyone (even professional intermediaries) has
biases and conflicts, shaped by their own position in society, by their class,
their culture and wealth. What may look value-free and apolitical to intermediaries looks
laden with assumptions from the outside. Yet it's the views of the intermediaries that carry the day. Incredibly, often they won't even tell you what they are saying to companies (or employers, as most beneficiaries experience them) on your behalf.
The result is that our investing institutions have drifted
dangerously far from their beneficiaries, and that many within the system are
compounding the problem by assuming public concerns are ill informed and
unjustified. Somewhere along the line, the power that comes from the capital
that working people have generated over decades has been usurped and used as
others see fit.
We have a situation now where well-paid intermediaries,
whose only power comes from other people’s money, jet around the world to
deliver sermons to an echo chamber of their peers who reinforce their own values. Largely disconnected from
those they notionally serve, intermediaries impose their values, their beliefs
and their priorities using someone else’s capital. It is the liberalism of the
wealthy, and socially and geographically mobile. Look in the mirror: it is the
politics of the elite.
Responsible investment does not escape this. ESG events are
dominated by sustainability, typically showcasing the numerous investor
initiatives addressing climate change. Yet you would struggle to find a single
topic at most of them that a beneficiary would consider to be really focused on
their interests, either as a saver or in their working life. If you are a lower
or middle income worker in a developed country, you are most likely to feature
in asset management analysis as a cost, particularly if you have a defined
benefit pension. You don't really matter as far as most shareholder engagement is concerned, even though it's your money they are using.
There is an old slogan: if you’re not part of the solution
you are part of the problem. So let’s spell it out: if you are voting in favour
of companies where executive reward is rising more than that for the workforce
as a whole, you are part of the problem. If you fail to support (or even
oppose) efforts to improve the pay and conditions of the working people whose
money you manage, you are part of the problem. If you oppose attempts to find
other ways to tackle the pay gap through other governance models, you are part
of the problem. If you want to limit or remove beneficiary involvement in the
management and utilisation of their own capital, you are part of the problem.
I have little doubt that the current model, reinforced by
unreflective behaviour by investing institutions, can trundle along on its rims
for a while yet. Similarly I expect calls for a change in direction to be met
in part by claims of special pleading by vested interests. But so what? If you
stand back and look at the mess that is executive pay, and cannot see both the legitimacy
of public anger and the utter failure of shareholders to make meaningful
change, then perhaps further dialogue is pointless.
All I would say is look at current events. You can
repeatedly tell people they are stupid, ill informed and harming their own
interests to choose a certain path. You can show them the evidence that big
corporates and 'serious' figures from industry share your view. You can tell them how lucky
they are with the status quo, and that they risk chucking it all away. But if
they think you are in it for yourself, that you think they’re thick, that you
never listen to them when they try and raise their voice, but most of all that if what
you are telling them doesn’t match their own experience, then one day they will kick
you in the bollocks.
1 comment:
Enjoyed this.
I think your last paragraph applies really well to Brexit. I fear, though, that when it comes to corporate pay, the CEOs balls are systemically protected by our political system.
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