When You’re the Boss, but Your Employees Make More Money

When NFL quarterback Justin Herbert and NBA star Jaylen Brown signed contracts this summer worth $262.5 million and $304 million, respectively, they struck the richest deals in their leagues’ histories. They’re also out earning their bosses by millions a year.

Professional athletes often command higher salaries than their coaches, since it’s harder to find people to execute plays than diagram them. And individual contributors can earn more than managers in a lot of fields, from finance and tech to sales and media.

The sticking point is how bosses and their charges deal with those imbalances.

There are two keys to a functional working relationship when a subordinate makes more money than their manager, people in both camps tell me: The boss must possess the humility to accept the situation and the confidence to project authority. And the highly paid employee can’t be a diva.

Richard Reice, a labor attorney and chief people officer of a restaurant group, says fat paychecks can lead to entitlement and make a highly paid employee practically unmanageable.

“Some refuse to do basic things, like attend meetings, just because they think they’re silly,” he says.

When leadership doesn’t pay

It’s hard to quantify how frequently rank-and-file workers make more than their bosses, but Reice says he has observed a shift from his dual perches in employment law and human resources. Many companies are scrapping the old notion that bigger titles should automatically mean bigger bucks. Instead of promoting star employees into management, where administrative duties can siphon time from their true talents, more businesses are keeping top performers in individual-contributor roles—and paying them like bosses.

Leadership, in these situations, is considered like any other skill, and not necessarily one that is worth more money.

We’re more likely to notice now when someone out earns the boss. The pandemic-era rise of distributed teams was accompanied by cost-of-living adjustments, which meant a manager based in an inexpensive town might earn less than direct reports living in pricier cities.

Pay-transparency laws have given some bosses the jarring experience of seeing less-senior positions at their companies posted on job boards with advertised salaries that exceed their own. Market demand can explain some discrepancies; in other cases, racial, age or gender biases could be to blame.

Keep your ego in check

Nikki Barua, who runs the women’s leadership program Beyond Barriers, says her clients in managerial positions sometimes feel underpaid relative to subordinates and are unsure whether discrimination is a factor. Bosses need to recognise there are often valid reasons behind pay, she says, and advises managers to pay more attention to what their fellow bosses make.

“The star performer is not the right comparison,” she says.

Barua says that in previous roles at technology and consulting firms, her knack for bringing in business sometimes led to incentives that pushed her pay over her managers’. She kept her ego in check by viewing her skill as a blessing, remembering that others might be equally good at different jobs that the labor market rewards less generously.

Now, as an entrepreneur trying to conserve cash, she’s sometimes paid herself less than her employees. She admits that, at times, it was hard not to resent people making more than she did, feeling that she’d be able to draw a salary if only they’d work harder or do better.

Founders often draw modest salaries, or none at all, in companies’ early days, says Jeff Bussgang, general partner in the Boston office of startup investor Flybridge Capital Partners.

“Naturally, if they own a big chunk of equity, it makes it all more palatable,” he says.

Plus, owners’ status is seldom in doubt, regardless of pay. Berkshire Hathaway CEO Warren Buffett, who acquired a controlling stake in the company in 1965, has for several decades taken an annual salary of $100,000. His total compensation last year was $401,589, while two vice chairmen earned more than $19 million apiece. Buffett, the world’s sixth-richest person with a net worth of $122 billion, according to the Bloomberg Billionaires Index, derives most of his income from investments.

Bosses who earn less

Ellen Taaffe, who sits on the compensation committees of several companies, including AARP Services, says corporate boards often set pay by studying the going rates for similar roles in other organisations. Boards can ease potential tension by giving junior executives lower base salaries and enabling them to surpass more senior leaders only through bonuses for exceeding expectations. Usually the people with the loftiest titles make the most money, but not always, notes Taaffe, who teaches at Northwestern University’s Kellogg School of Management.

For instance, the chief scientific officer of a biotech company—whose research might be the crux of the business’s success or failure—could be paid more than the CEO. George Yancopoulos, the chief scientific officer of Regeneron Pharmaceuticals, has received almost $435 million in total compensation since 2012, according to securities filings, making him the company’s highest-paid employee over that span. (Regeneron may be best known for its monoclonal antibody treatment for Covid.)

At some universities, the highest-paid employee isn’t the president; it’s the football coach or the person who manages the endowment. The $2.2 million pay package awarded to Yale University President Peter Salovey last fiscal year was one-third of what the chief investment officer earned, according to tax filings.

Leaders who successfully handle higher-paid employees find satisfaction in helping others shine, Taaffe says.

Warren Cereghino, a retired TV news director in California, says he kept pride at bay by reminding himself that viewers tuned in to watch his station’s anchors, who earned more than he did as their boss. He says the on-air talent didn’t abuse their sway.

Still, being privy to their contracts, he knew that some had negotiated a measure of editorial control in addition to large salaries. If there was a disagreement, he wouldn’t necessarily win.

“Even though my name was on the door of the news director’s office, there was a limit to my power,” he says.

—Theo Francis contributed to this article.

Great leaders have it. Gen Z has a new word for it. Can the rest of us learn it?

Charisma—or rizz , as current teenage slang has anointed it—can feel like an ephemeral gift some are just born with. The chosen among us network and chitchat, exuding warmth as they effortlessly hold court. Then there’s everyone else, agonising over exclamation points in email drafts and internally replaying that joke they made in the meeting, wondering if it hit.

“Well, this is awkward,” Mike Rizzo, the head of a community for marketing operations professionals, says of rizz being crowned 2023 word of the year by the publisher of the Oxford English Dictionary. It’s so close to his last name, but so far from how he sees himself. He sometimes gets sweaty palms before hosting webinars.

Who could blame us for obsessing over charisma, or lack thereof? It can lubricate social interactions, win us friends, and score promotions . It’s also possible to cultivate, assures Charles Duhigg, the author of a book about people he dubs super communicators.

At its heart, charisma isn’t about some grand performance. It’s a state we elicit in other people, Duhigg says. It’s about fostering connection and making our conversation partners feel they’re the charming—or interesting or funny—ones.

The key is to ask deeper, though not prying, questions that invite meaningful and revealing responses, Duhigg says. And match the other person’s vibes. Maybe they want to talk about emotions, the joy they felt watching their kid graduate from high school last weekend. Or maybe they’re just after straight-up logistics and want you to quickly tell them exactly how the team is going to turn around that presentation by tomorrow.

You might be hired into a company for your skill set, Duhigg says, but your ability to communicate and earn people’s trust propels you up the ladder: “That is leadership.”

Approachable and relatable

In reporting this column, I was surprised to hear many executives and professionals I find breezily confident and pleasantly chatty confess it wasn’t something that came naturally. They had to work on it.

Dave MacLennan , who served as chief executive of agricultural giant Cargill for nearly a decade, started by leaning into a nickname: DMac, first bestowed upon him in a C-suite meeting where half the executives were named Dave.

He liked the informality of it. The further he ascended up the corporate hierarchy, the more he strove to be approachable and relatable.

Employees “need a reason to follow you,” he says. “One of the reasons they’re going to follow you is that they feel they know you.”

He makes a point to remember the details and dates of people’s lives, such as colleagues’ birthdays. After making his acquaintance, in a meeting years ago at The Wall Street Journal’s offices, I was shocked to receive an email from his address months later. Subject line: You , a heading so compelling I still recall it. He went on to say he remembered I was due with my first child any day now and just wanted to say good luck.

“So many people say, ‘Oh, I don’t have a good memory for that,’ ” he says. Prioritise remembering, making notes on your phone if you need, he says.

Now a board member and an executive coach, MacLennan sent hundreds of handwritten notes during his tenure. He’d reach out to midlevel managers who’d just gotten a promotion, or engineers who showed him around meat-processing plants. He’d pen words of thanks or congratulations. And he’d address the envelopes himself.

“Your handwriting is a very personal thing about you,” he says. “Think about it. Twenty seconds. It makes such an impact.”

Everyone’s important

Doling out your charm selectively will backfire, says Carla Harris , a Morgan Stanley executive. She chats up the woman cleaning the office, the receptionist at her doctor’s, the guy waiting alongside her for the elevator.

“Don’t be confused,” she tells young bankers. Executive assistants are often the most powerful people in the building, and you never know how someone can help—or hurt—you down the line.

Harris once spent a year mentoring a junior worker in another department, not expecting anything in return. One day, Harris randomly mentioned she faced an uphill battle in meeting with a new client. Oh!, the 24-year-old said. Turns out, the client was her friend. She made the call right there, setting up Harris for a work win.

In the office, stop staring at your phone, Harris advises, and notice the people around you. Ask for their names. Push yourself to start a conversation with three random people every day.

Charisma for introverts

You can’t will yourself to be a bubbly extrovert, but you can find your own brand of charisma, says Vanessa Van Edwards, a communications trainer and author of a book about charismatic communication.

For introverted clients, she recommends using nonverbal cues. A slow triple nod shows people you’re listening. Placing your hands in the steeple position, together and facing up, denotes that you’re calm and present.

Try coming up with one question you’re known for. Not a canned, hokey ice-breaker, but something casual and simple that reflects your actual interests. One of her clients, a bookish executive struggling with uncomfortable, halting starts to his meetings, began kicking things off by asking “Reading anything good?”

Embracing your stumbles

Charisma starts with confidence. It’s not that captivating people don’t occasionally mispronounce a word or spill their coffee, says Henna Pryor, who wrote a book about embracing awkwardness at work. They just have a faster comeback rate than the rest of us. They call out the stumble instead of trying to hide it, make a small joke, and move on.

Being perfectly polished all the time is not only exhausting, it’s impossible. We know this, which is why appearing flawless can come off as fake. We like people who seem human, Pryor says.

Our most admired colleagues are often the ones who are good at their jobs and can laugh at themselves too, who occasionally trip or flub just like us.

“It creates this little moment of warmth,” she says, “that we actually find almost like a relief.”