She gave the institution her finest decades. She kept almost none of the equity.
She had the title, the corner office, the driver, the corporate card, and thirty years of being very well taken care of. What she did not have, in the morning, when they told her the role was being restructured, was anything she could take with her.
Last week I wrote about the soft life at home. This is its corporate twin, and it may be the more dangerous of the two, because it wears a suit and calls itself a career.
Call it Corporate Soft Life. A woman gives her best decades to an institution. She is looked after well the whole way. And only at the exit does she realise she built a fortune, and almost none of it is hers.
The maths stops adding up.
One reader wrote to me last week, and I
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