Popular FT columnist Lucy Kellaway opens an interesting line of inquiry here by asking where all the over-50 salary slaves have gone? After donning her amateur anthropologist hat, Lucy concludes people her age are all-but-absent from London’s legions of office workers. She raises the quirky suggestion that in future companies will be forced to re-employ these greybeards. Perhaps. Another view is the process is actually rather rational. The more experienced among us are increasingly realising skills that built up in corporate service are highly sought in our new connected age. So they have, quite rationally, opted Skype. Slack and other connectable technology as an alternative to the grind of commuting. And rejected the notion of working hours and income determined by faceless committees, preferring the flexibility of offering their skills to the whole world. A pal pointed me to a report in the New Zealand Herald claiming salary slaves now have “a 90% chance of being fired – but will be better off.” It argues that most employees will find they actually enjoy life after their fear of corporate redundancy is realised. And as more share this reality, the faster it will spread. Counter-intuitively, the longer one has worked for someone, the easier it is to embrace entrepreneurship. Because time spent doing someone else’s bidding creates the incentive (and capital) to turn a self-employment idea into reality. Inversely, salary slavery leads to inevitable scars that come with living in an unnatural environment. Which is precisely what corporates force us into – as deep thinkers like Grameen Bank’s Nobel prizewinning Muhammad Yunus have been trying to tell us for ages. – Alec Hogg
 By Lucy KellawayÂ
The other day I gave a talk to a group of investment bankers. I did what I always do when I’m in front of a business audience: scan the crowd and try to work out how many men there are to every woman. If they are young City of London lawyers, the numbers are usually roughly even, while for senior bankers and financial advisers it can be as bad as one to 20.
On this particular afternoon the ratio was a bit better than usual – about 1:4 – but as I looked around it occurred to me that I was counting the wrong thing. The tiniest minority was not women. It was not even people from ethnic minorities, this being a global conference. It was the over-fifties.
In about 200 bankers I could see only one person who seemed to be my age – and that was the chief executive. As I walked back through the City, I stared at the people going home: a sea of commuters in their twenties, thirties and forties. Only occasionally did I spot a contemporary, sidling past with head down. I briefly got excited when I saw two people who looked about 60, but on closer inspection their brightly coloured anoraks and the suitcases they were wheeling revealed them to be tourists.
The disappearance of fiftysomethings from offices in London may not be new, but I have been slow to notice it. That’s probably because it is still possible to be over 55 and a journalist on the Financial Times without feeling too outlandish. It is hard to feel too exposed when the finest and most valuable columnist on the FT has a good 10 years on you.
The same is not true in other parts of our business. Last week there was a fire alarm in the office and I looked at the human snake of colleagues from the commercial departments shuffling down the stairs. Number of people my age: zero.
Possibly it is just a case of the policemen getting younger, but I don’t think so. A couple of fellow journalists in their fifties assure me that they are the oldest people on their commuter trains from St Albans and Muswell Hill arriving in the City every morning.
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A friend who is about to turn 50 in a large consumer products company is keeping quiet about his age and hoping that no one notices him. When he joined 20 years ago there were plenty of people in their late fifties, often with a PA of the same age or older. Now there are no more PAs of any age and the managers mostly slope off in their late forties, having been handed a fat cheque to do so.
The few who hang on in mainstream corporate jobs fall into two tiny camps: the highest flyers, who are either a chief executive or hoping to become one; and the lowest flyers, who have succeeded in making themselves invisible and avoided all rounds of redundancy.
This elimination of the vast rump of fiftysomethings from London’s office spaces is at odds with what is supposed to be happening, which is that people are working longer, not just to a normal retirement age but beyond. In the past 10 years or so, the stats show, the number of people in the UK working beyond 64 years of age has doubled .
If investment bankers, lawyers and accountants are an exception, that is neither puzzling nor worrying. By their late forties they have earned so much money to have no need for more, and after 25 years of working all hours in dysfunctional environments they have generally had enough. They are less victims of ageism than a product of how the system works. They have done the hard graft and can now do something more pleasant with their time – either nothing at all, or a bit of consultancy, or be born again as a photographer or landscape gardener.
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But for the next slice down it is utterly baffling. Where are all the fiftysomethings who used to do standard corporate jobs in human resources, or marketing, or events? Who employs them? Did they receive generous enough redundancy payments – and have enough money in property – to get by earning a bit extra here and there?
Whatever they are up to, the pattern must be about to go into reverse, for reasons we all know: pensions are worse, health is better. If we live to 100 and have to work until we are 75 to support ourselves, big companies will have to start taking us back. Fifty- and sixtysomethings will cling to their office jobs for dear life or, if they lose one, will go searching for another – possibly on a lower wage – so that employers will have to stop thinking of ageist excuses not to hire them.
HR departments of large employers will soon laugh at the fuss they have made about the non-problem of how to keep spoilt millennials happy.
Motivating fiftysomethings who have already tired of the nonsense of corporate life but still have to slog on for another 15 years? That is going to be the hardest management task yet invented.
- Lucy Kellaway is a columnist at the Financial Times of London. Contact here via email at [email protected] or on Twitter: @lucykellaway
(c) 2016 The Financial Times Ltd.
