Large severance payments have made a few people relatively rich, including some in Minnesota, and many others very unhappy.
The latest was the $25 million severance reportedly paid out late in April to ousted Fox News TV megastar Bill O'Reilly following his dismissal due to mounting sexual harassment accusations against him and $13 million paid by Fox in settlements to some of the claimants.
A week earlier, Wells Fargo announced that it was clawing back some $75 million from two executives who departed in the wake of the false-account scandal that surfaced late last year, bank employees opening unauthorized accounts for customers and running up phony charges against them.
The take-back this spring was on top of another $60 million that was reclaimed earlier. The money, in the form of severance payments and stock options, was part of packages in excess of $200 million that the chieftains received upon their departure from Wells Fargo by former Chairman and CEO John Stumpf, a Minnesota native, and Carrie Tolstedt, one of his top lieutenants.
The reclamation of the funds begs the question of why they were paid so much in the first place following their faulty oversight, or lack of oversight, of the fraudulent scheme.
No, all is not well, not just at Wells Fargo. The business community has seen these severance scams going on for a long time. While the high-echelon personnel get rich, the employees who work at lower levels end up with pink slips, reduction-in-force (RIF) layoffs, and other dispositions with very little recompense.
It has happened often here in Minnesota, which, coincidentally, can lay claim to being the home of modern-day severance arrangements.
Five years ago, after revelation of improprieties by its CEO Brian Dunn, Best Buy gave him a $4.5 million severance and pushed him out the door. University of Minnesota President Robert Bruininks, before leaving office around the same time, awarded 43 of his top subordinates large severance packages totaling nearly $3 million.