Work Daze

Gee, maybe you can take it with you.

Consider Brian L. Roberts, the CEO of Comcast. Should Mr. Roberts be so unfortunate as to die while in office, his life would end, but his salary would continue. In fact, it would continue for five full years and yes, during that period, he would also collect his annual bonuses.

James M. Bernhard Jr. of the Shaw Group has a similar stipulation in his contract. This CEO gets an extra $17 million dollars in exchange for a promise not to compete with the company for a period of two years following termination of employment. The payment is due even if Mr. Bernhard dies while on the job. No one quite knows how he is going to compete from the grave, but if anyone can do it, it’s Lucky Jim.

There’s a lot not to like about these sweetheart deals, known in the compensation game as “Golden Coffins.” Are we outraged by executives running amuck while the rest of us are running aground, or are we angry because these guys make more dead than we ever will when we’re alive?

The matter of lavish posthumous paydays was the subject of a recent front-page story in “The Wall Street Journal.” Since the Journal takes a rabid pro-business stance, I can only assume the author, Mark Maremont, is not trying to shake a finger, but to point a finger at a one more bloody perk that some vampire CEOs may have forgotten to suck from the necks of their increasingly anemic employees.

Defending humongous salary payments to the dead has not been easy for corporate compensation committees. “Companies defend the practice as an appropriate way to take care of an executive’s family after an unexpected death,” reporter Maremont writes. “They also note that the benefits often are negotiated as part of a pay package that has many components.”

The discovery of these spectacular death benefits may be news, but their existence dates back to corporate pre-history. Only a change in the federal disclosure rules have forced companies to reveal the outsized deathbed gifts being lavished on top of the giant salaries and a panoply of pricey perks.

[If you earn less than $50 million a year, alive or dead, don’t even try to understand these “components.” They’re way beyond you. You probably don’t even understand why it is necessary to shovel on the six-figure perks to retain a top executive who is six feet under the ground. As in – “ I don’t care if Jane is dead. I don’t want her working for the competition!”]

When XTO Energy CEO, Bob R. Simpson, kicks the bucket he will find the bucket filled with the proceeds from a $3 million dollar insurance policy. It’s a skimpy reward, even for a dead man, but don’t worry about the Bobster. Had he died on December 31 of last year, he could have also taken with him a $111 million “bonus,” plus $20.5 million in instantly vested shares, plus – let’s be fair here -- $4.4 million in salary. And if you think you can’t take it with you, why does CEO Simpson’s death trigger an additional $158,400 payment listed as a “car allowance.”

Hey, you don’t expect him to drive through the Pearly Gates in a Kia, do you?

Eugene M. Isenberg, CEO of Nabors Industries has himself lined up for over $275 million dollars as his last day payday – an amount that is actually more than the company’s entire first quarter’s income for 2008. That pot of gold at the end of the rainbow must be looking pretty good to Isenberg who is 78 years old. The concept of making more than a quarter of a billion dollars simply for giving up breathing must be very attractive. Fortunately, the CEO received over $500 million in compensation between 1992 to 2007, which probably took the edge off all that heavy breathing he had to do.

We could rant and rave over these swollen salaries, but I have a better idea. Next time you get your annual review, and your supervisor dangles a 4% raise before your red, swollen eyes, ask if you are worth more to the company dead or alive. Considering the cost of all your screw-ups, management will probably be glad to double or triple your salary if you add “a quick painless death” to your goals and objectives.

Maybe you really can’t take it with you, but with the pittance they’re paying you to stay, you might as well try.