The Billion-Kronor Man and the Thousand Workers Behind Him

by bernt & torsten

An Ode to Greed, Served With Golden Cutlery

In a land not so far away, called Korpköping, a rare breed of human lives: the CEO. These majestic creatures are known for their impeccable suit game, their ability to speak without saying anything, and most of all, their jaw-dropping ability to hoard enough wealth in one year to never work again.

Max Lund, BigWheels Inc.'s CEO, just raked in 62 million kronor this year. For those keeping score, that’s what 500 mechanics, engineers, and factory floor legends earn together. Max? He mostly attends meetings, makes PowerPoint presentations, and tells shareholders what they want to hear: “Efficiency” (read: layoffs) and “sustainable growth” (read: you do more, we take more).

But Max is just the tip of the iceberg, made of pure gold. Nico Daltan of LockTopia got 55 million, while Börje Korksman from WireComm took home 55 million too, despite the company cutting 800 jobs. “We’re focusing on core values,” Börje said. Indeed, one of those values seems to be to pay me first.

Then there's Jimmy Rowe at AutoNova, 51 million. Security man Magnus Alquist of Guardium? 48 million. While they speak of “value creation,” thousands of workers get pink slips and a pat on the back.

Why? Because the market demands it. That mysterious, invisible force that can somehow justify one person being worth the wages of an entire village.

Let’s not forget that it’s not only the CEOs. Behind every overpaid executive, there's a shareholder nodding solemnly, whispering, “Yes, yes, this is good.” They sip their espresso while dividends grow and workers shrink into zero-hour contracts, stress disorders, and food budget spreadsheets. As more workers fall ill, the burden shifts to society: overloaded healthcare, rising sick leave, and a crumbling welfare system. And when we need public support the most, the government lowers taxes for the rich, not for workers. The social budget shrinks. Libraries close, hospital queues grow, and elderly care becomes a spreadsheet nightmare. “You can pay for it yourself,” says the millionaire. But how? When all the wealth we generate flows upward, into their pockets, portfolios, and offshore accounts?

Meanwhile, the workers ask: Do Swedes work too much or too little? Would we be less stressed if the workday were shorter? And how much would it really cost? The unions and employers are locked in a fierce battle over working hours. On the one hand, the CEO wants more hours, more output, and more sacrifice. On the other side, the unions push for shorter workweeks, humane schedules, and lives outside the office.

Into this conflict steps a new ally for the CEOs: AI. The perfect colleague. No complaints. No coffee breaks. No salaries. Just pure, efficient code that never asks for a raise. For the CEOs, AI is a dream. For the rest? A warning.

So here’s our humble suggestion: If these executives are truly worth every penny, let them prove it. Let Max and Nico and Börje run the factories, stock the shelves, fix the servers, sell the SIM cards, drive the trucks, and answer the angry customer calls alone for one year. If they can do all of that and still turn a profit, then, and only then, give them their bonus.

Until then, we, the people who wake up at 05:30, drink burnt coffee from break room machines, and carry this economy on tired backs, say this:

You are not kings,
We are not serfs,
And your paycheck is not a divine right.

The next time you hear “we can’t afford raises,” remember this list. Remember Max, Nico, Börje, and all the rest of the Golden Gang. Then ask yourself, Who really earned the money this year?

It wasn’t them.