A former managing partner at McKinsey & Company expressed this view when he advised executives to focus their attention on the “2 percent [of employees] who are really going to drive [results.]” “It’s a very small proportion of people,” he argued, “who drive a lot of value.” When pressed, he admitted his assertion had “no regression analysis or analytics behind it.” It was, in other words, an untested assumption or, to be more accurate, a prejudice.

This sort of disdain for the average employee mirrors the hauteur of eighteenth-century aristocrats—and has the same stifling effect on creativity and initiative. Stunted freedom and upside yield stunted commitment and performance.

These aren’t mere gripes. They are evidence of a fundamental disconnect in incentives. Employees in market-facing roles know that if they fail to satisfy user needs, they’ll get fired by their customers. Corporate staffers, by contrast, can only be fired by their overlords, so that’s where their loyalties lie. Internal administrators suffer little or no penalty when they inflate costs, offer substandard services, or insist on compliance at any cost.

These days, I’m wary of seemingly simple incentive rules that promise amazing results. They are rarely simple, and often leave collateral damage. Usually, a better option is to have a frank discussion about what we should value and why. Why should we care about exploring more designs early on? Why should we aim to speed up engineering velocity? Once people understand and buy into those values, they can make the best decisions on how to apply them.

The relationships with others essential to activities such as parenthood, education and research are valued for themselves, not just for their consequences. Most humans are good at detecting instrumentality – the false bonhomie of the used car salesman, the cynical hypocrisy of the vote-seeking politician – and are repelled by it. There is a difference between the firm that promotes the welfare of its employees because its executives care, and the firm that promotes the welfare of its employees because its finance department has calculated the net present value of reduced staff turnover. And employees can usually tell which is which.

One of its signals has been so amplified that it drowns out the others. The ‘profit motive’ isn’t something that can be ascribed to corporations — they don’t have motives. What they have is an imbalance between the two key higher-functions — here-and-now versus there-and-then. They aren’t capable of responding to signals from the long-term planning and intelligence function, because the short-term planning function has to operate under the constraints of the financial market disciplinary system. Either a corporation has a survival condition based on needing to make a monthly interest bill, or there’s an implicit threat from the financial environment that if it fails to behave in a particular way, it will be taken over by an outside entity.

If you take away that pressure, it’s quite likely that the natural equilibrium of corporate decision-making systems will be less hostile to human life. Viable systems fundamentally seek stability, not maximisation.