The orphan CEO

My office is slowly becoming a corporate emergency ward. CEOs walk in not with ECG reports, but with bruised egos, unsigned exit letters and bonuses that have developed a terminal illness. One former colleague, regional CEO of an MNC in Bangladesh, recently arrived with a familiar prescription: accept a 20 percent salary cut because of “global turmoil”. When he refused, corporate vocabulary changed from values to venom. Verbal abuse began. Career threats followed. Finally, to protect his dignity, he resigned. Then came the second operation: despite achieving most KPIs, his performance bonus was declared missing in action.

This is not a new disease. Many of us have seen variants of it. In good times, the local CEO is the face of growth. In bad times, he becomes the convenient goat for sacrifice, without benefits, bonuses, or noise. His hard work is applauded in town halls and archived in dashboards, only to be discarded when power needs a victim.

Why does this happen more comfortably in Bangladesh? Because our legal system gives courage to bullies. If a senior executive goes to court, the verdict may arrive after the abusive boss has retired and started teaching grandchildren about ethics. Delay is not only a denial of justice; it is a business model for the powerful.

The law also creates an orphanage. Traditional labour law was designed mainly for workers needing protection from industrial power. Globally, systems distinguish between blue-collar workers, protected by labour standards and collective bargaining, and managerial employees, protected by contracts, tribunals, mediation and severance rules. India’s Industrial Disputes Act, for example, excludes managerial and administrative employees from the “workman” category, but senior executives still operate within contract law, company governance and formal compensation frameworks. In Bangladesh, the CEO often falls between two chairs: not worker enough for labour protection, not owner enough for owner privilege.

The regional comparison is revealing. Deloitte’s 2024-25 India executive rewards survey of more than 400 organisations found that 60 percent of CEO earnings are linked to performance. In other words, a bonus is not a corporate charity. It is part of the employment bargain. If a CEO delivers KPIs and the company later withholds the reward because he refused humiliation, that is not discretion. It is retaliation for wearing a necktie.

Not all MNCs are equal. Good multinationals bring governance, process, respect and discipline. Some leave weak-law markets to avoid polluted profit. But another category sees opportunity in disorder. They understand that in Bangladesh, a written threat may cost less than a lawyer’s lunch, and reputational risk can be managed with a glossy sustainability report.

Senior management has no union, NGO, political slogan and often no sympathy. Vulnerability does not disappear because someone has a corner office. At the same time, employers need protection from dishonest executives who misuse confidentiality, approvals or exit negotiations. Fairness must run both ways.

Singapore, the UK and Australia show that mature employment law protects both sides: employees from arbitrary dismissal and unpaid entitlements, and employers from misconduct, through written contracts, mediation, tribunals, fair termination procedures and compensation caps, instead of endless court battles.

The reform agenda is simple. The Ministry of Labour’s ongoing work on private-sector service rules should become part of a broader employment law, not merely labour law. It must define blue-collar, white-collar, managerial and C-suite categories; mandate written contracts; protect earned bonuses; require documented performance assessments; create fast-track employment tribunals; establish mediation and arbitration; and consult chambers, professional bodies and ILO principles.

Bangladesh cannot build world-class companies with fear-class employment practices. If CEOs are forced to act like decorated slaves of principals, they will never lead with courage. They will manage upwards, obey silently and sacrifice truth at the altar of survival. That is not development; it is dependency. A country that wants foreign investment must also demand foreign decency.

The writer is the founder of BuildCon Consultancies Ltd and BuildNation Ltd