Ellen E. Schultz

At a time when Enron Corp. was cutting back on its employee retirement plans to save money, executive benefits at the energy company kept getting richer.

Enron's bankruptcy may have wiped out most of the retirement savings of most of its workers. But one thing it didn't take away were the pensions of its most senior executives. Financial filings disclose that former Enron Chairman Kenneth Lay, for one, used a private partnership to protect millions of dollars worth of executive pension benefits.

Until recently, executive deferred-compensation plans largely escaped scrutiny by regulators. That changed after Enron Corp. filed for bankruptcy late last year, and court documents showed that some Enron executives had withdrawn millions of dollars from their accounts just before the Chapter 11 filing.

At a time when scores of companies are freezing pensions for their workers, some are quietly converting their pension plans into resources to finance their executives' retirement benefits and pay.

Henry Schacht, Lucent Technologies Inc.'s former chief executive and still a director, met with retirees in 10 states last fall to explain why Lucent was cutting their medical and life-insurance benefits.

Last year, John R. Stafford, chairman of pharmaceutical giant Wyeth, earned $1.8 million in salary. He also was awarded a $1.97 million bonus, restricted stock valued at $724,283 and 630,000 stock options.

That much shareholders can learn from glancing at the company's proxy.

Some of America's biggest banks -- including Bank of America Corp., J.P. Morgan Chase & Co., and Bank One Corp. -- hold billions of dollars in so-called janitors insurance on their present and former employees. But investors may have a hard time finding much information in their Securities and Exchange Commission filings.

How valuable is the business of managing what is known as "janitors insurance"?

One clue comes from a St. Louis court case, in which a financial-consulting firm won a $118 million jury verdict against Hartford Life Insurance Co., arguing that the insurance giant stole its method of administering these kinds of policies to smooth earnings.

Scott Mayo, 41 years old, is alive and well. But extremely unhappy with his former employer, CM Holdings Inc., which took out a life-insurance policy on him. When he dies, the company, for which he worked as a store manager in San Antonio until early 1990, hopes to receive $336,814.

Corporate owners get a variety of tax and accounting benefits from life insurance on employees.