Shhhhh. Don’t talk about money.
It’s not very British. We don’t like show-offs. Ostentatious shows of wealth are a turn-off.
We like to look well-off. But not too well-off.
But money talks. For some in the c-suite, it’s a core driver. Of identity. Of worth. Of power.
I like money and I like nice things. I like having a comfortable place to live. I like warm holidays. But money isn’t my core driver. I value influence. Plaudits. Enabling others.
I’m no martyr. But money? Just doesn’t excite me much.
Some executives are money obsessed. C-suite leaders paid millions but carping over pennies. Worried about their missing £1000 but unmoved by the needs of the worst paid.
Why money feels so important
Money is emotive. But what makes it so?
Money is measurable. Comparing impact is hard. Comparing base, bonus, equity, and the rest is easier. It’s the metric with an unambiguous answer. ‘Am I good enough?’ Money will tell you.
Money is inextricably linked to identity. Executives spend 20 or 30 years reaching the c-suite. Their role isn’t something they do. It’s who they are. Money is the evidence they’re valid.
Executives are human. They aren’t immune from hyper-vigilance. Perhaps they have ‘scarcity wiring’. From a childhood where money meant safety, or from genuine moments of career precariousness.
Executives can’t control every career outcome. But they can build a safety net. A buffer in case their worst fears materialise. But the buffer is never enough. They never stop building. So they miss their kids growing up. Their marriage frays. Their health suffers.
Status and comparison
Money is status. At our core, we’re primates. We’re highly attuned to hierarchy. A drop in standing is a survival threat. A CEO earning £2m can feel threatened by one earning £5m, even if their work is better. It’s a relative position. Compensation is a ranking.
The cost of money obsession
So money obsession is costly. To executives and organisations.
It drives unhelpful behaviours. Decisions go unchallenged because of bonus metrics. Dodgy revenue is buried to ensure equity vests.
C-suite relationships deteriorate. Ranked by package, colleagues compete. Rivalry outdoes connection. Collaboration suffers.
Even culture is damaged. If executives make money the only metric, everyone else does too. Competition spreads.
It’s a vicious cycle. The more money is made the metric, the more anxious executives become about it.
What is money really representing?
We need to be honest. If a leader needs ever-increasing compensation to feel secure, more compensation isn’t the answer.
I wonder what money symbolises for the more obsessed executives. Safety? Worth? Status? Revenge? Maybe it can be fixed if they understand what it represents.
Is money actually making them happier? Beyond a certain point, more money seems to buy more commitment than joy. Bigger house equals bigger mortgage. Grander holidays, inflated price tag.
‘Comparison is the thief of joy’. Maybe executives can notice their comparison set. Who are they measuring themselves against, and why?
Breaking the silence
We don’t talk enough about money. It reeks of shame. Shame derives power from silence. When we talk honestly about the role of money in our psychology, it loses some of its grip.
Money matters. But not that much.
The leaders I admire are well paid. But they don’t flinch when their package is discussed. They don’t carp over pennies. And they don’t confuse net worth with their self-worth.
