COLIN and Clive were having a disagreement, and it was all my
fault. I had been telling them about the story about the food
co-operative Daily Bread, where everyone gets the same wage (
News, 16 August). Clive thought it was a great idea. Colin said
that the notion that everyone - from the managing director to the
cleaner - should get the same money was crazy.
What fuelled the argument was another disagreement: about
whether charity bosses are overpaid (
News, 9 August). Colin, who is a robust free-market man, said
that people should be paid according to what they are worth to an
organisation. Top charity chiefs manage huge budgets and make
life-or-death decisions. You have to pay for talent. A boss who
doubled the fund-raising could earn his salary in a few weeks.
Clive, however, who collects clothes for a British Heart
Foundation (BHF) shop, said that he had been distinctly demotivated
when he found that the BHF chief executive was on more than
£150,000 a year. And doubling fund-raising was a bogus argument:
the man at the top of the British Red Cross had seen his pay jump
by 12 per cent to £184,000 since 2010, despite a three-per-cent
fall in revenue. Donors want their cash to go to the cause, not to
line the pockets of executives.
Emotive language can be used to bolster either case. But
gospel-inspired organisations have two insights to offer here.
Daily Bread takes as its bottom line the idea that people are more
important than profit. Its equal-pay-for-all approach embodies an
exemplary idealism, which takes its inspiration from Matthew's
account of the Sermon on the Mount, in which Jesus tells his
listeners: "You are the light of the world. A city that is set on a
hill cannot be hidden."
In the same parable, another metaphor is used, that of his
disciples as the "salt of the earth". This suggests that Christians
must immerse themselves in the common mass, although without losing
their distinctiveness. Even so, the labourer is worthy of his
hire.
Church charities seem to be conflicted about these models. On
the one hand, they seek to attract competent leaders by paying them
properly. The CEO of the Salvation Army is paid £140,000. The
director of Christian Aid gets £126,072, while CAFOD pays its
director £87,000 a year. And yet these figures are nowhere near the
average wage for the bosses of Britain's top 100 charities, whose
salaries top the £200,000 mark.
There is still a problem with the heads of church charities'
receiving annual pay-rises during hard times, when charity incomes
are falling. It is rooted in the idea that all executives - in
banking, government, or the charity sector - should have their
salaries fixed by a process of continual comparison with one
another. This means that inflationary dynamics in public bodies and
the private sector are leaking to charities, and driving up pay
among top managers there, too.
But measuring a charity boss against what he or she might
otherwise earn in the private sector is a false yardstick.
Charities are big businesses nowadays, but they are also something
much more: they are an expression of altruism and common purpose.
Exemplary idealism is a counsel of perfection, which stands as an
aspirational goal. In the real world, charity chiefs should be paid
properly. But that involves a recognition of their singular status.
They should not expect annual wage rises at a time of
austerity.