Rockstars and Banksters

The other day I woke up to yet another insipid debate about bankers’ excessive pay on Radio 4 (yes, I do listen to the radio station of the aspirational middle class  - get over it!). What struck me is that this by now seemingly endless debate (if you can call it that) no longer really relates to the altogether justifiable outcry over excessive pay for bankers whose institutions were saved by the taxpayer’s purse in times of financial stress. Instead, we seem to have moved on to a new type of complaint: The bankers simply earn too much money! It no longer seems to matter that, say Bob Diamond, CEO of Barclays bank never took his shop cap in hand to the treasury when the going got tough, but instead found private funds to shore up his bank. The gripe is now simply about him earning loads of money. And to be fair, it is a chunky bit of dosh coming his way. What isn’t so clear to me is why he (and his cohort of fellow bankers) is in the spotlight for this. It certainly isn’t the case that he earned more money than Robert Iger (who adds to humanities well being by running Walt Disney Co.). Or for that matter Jay-Z. Who I believe took home approximate six times as much as poor old Bobby Diamond last year. Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m hardly going to sing songs of lamentation for a CEO who walks home with a seven figure pay packet every year. I would, however, point at the strange blind spot that our friends at the Today program seem to have when it comes scrutinizing the pay of those not running banks these days. Why, I ask, is it okay for a reasonably foul mouthed rap-star to make a staggering amount of money by selling torrents of overproduced invectives and garish Chinese-made leisure wear but not for somebody running one of the world’s largest privately owned banks? I daresay it is not because some Rawlsian calculus of utility indicates the former to be more deserving than the latter. I reckon it is because for most people out there (be it the more degenerate rabble that features on various reality TV-programs or the somewhat terse crowd lamenting slow erosion of received pronunciation at the BBC) just cannot fathom what a banker really does. While we can all at least imagine how Bono manages to rack up his millions (and truth be told, think we probably could give it a decent try ourselves, given half a chance) public imagination seems unable to penetrate the smokescreen of nefarious plotting and dealing that no doubt fills the average banking executives Machiavellian diary. Let’s face it; most chaps out there don’t begrudge The Boss being a better singer guitarist than they ever could hope to be. At least they can understand what he does (let’s not bring Lady Gaga into this line of thinking, however). I guess it is just hard to accept that there are in fact some people out there that spend their days doing things that seem utterly tedious and quite possibly incomprehensible to most of humanity and yet get paid handsomely for it. Which is ironic, as one quick glance at the saddening sight of the average investment banker’s collection of incredibly beautiful yet woefully underused vintage guitars will immediately tell you that banks are full of failed rock stars.