The Business Guinea Pigs – Volume 4: Why Is So Little Left?

Knut explains it with the sack of hay: hay and sack together are called gross. Take away the sack, the tare, and what’s left is net, the hay. Pay works in a similar way. Gross is the number at the top of the pay slip, the whole wage before anything is taken out. Net is the number at the bottom, what you actually get. In the book’s example for Germany, that’s €3,000 gross and about €2,050 net. Only one thing is different from the hay: with pay, you don’t throw the sack away.

They don’t go missing, says Ina. The employer withholds the income tax and sends it to the tax office. The employer passes on the insurance contributions too, and keeps none of it. In the enclosure, the guinea pigs set out bowls for this: a big one for the tax, which pays for schools, roads and the fire department, and smaller ones for the insurance. Toffy’s line: Deducted is not lost. It’s just there for someone somewhere else.

Four kinds of insurance that employees and employers usually split: health insurance for doctors and hospitals, pension insurance for old age, long-term care insurance for when someone needs help with everyday life, and unemployment insurance for when someone loses their job. Mr. Grey makes a point of it: These are not taxes. And the pension isn’t saved up, either. Toffy calls it a food bowl through time: today, the people who work fill the bowl for the people who are already old. A fifth bowl, accident insurance, is paid by the employer alone.

More than it says at the top of the pay slip. The employer also pays part of the four kinds of insurance, plus accident insurance and a few smaller required contributions. For Knut’s small garden center, that comes to about €3,700 in the example. Christian draws it as a staircase: Knut pays about 3,700, the slip says 3,000 gross, and about 2,050 arrives net. The proper word for it is labor costs. Rocky calls it ghost wages.

Rocky promises Jonas €3,000 net, plus applause. Christian notices: Same digits, different number. With net, you have to work backward, and the more someone earns, the bigger the deductions get. In the example, the top line would have to say about €4,750 gross, and Knut would pay almost €5,900 in total. That’s over two thousand euros more, every single month. Jonas puts it this way: I’d rather have a clear gross than a dream net that nobody can deliver.

The minimum wage is the lowest amount anyone can be paid for an hour of work. Ina says: The floor is not the ceiling. And legal doesn’t automatically mean fair. Christian writes down three questions for checking a wage: Is it above the floor? What do others pay for similar work? Can the business afford it in the long run? The exact number only appears at the back of the book: in 2026, the minimum wage in Germany is €13.90 an hour.

It depends. If you’re employed, you get a wage, even as the boss. If you own your business yourself, you don’t automatically get a wage. Knut explains it himself at the end: first the supplies, rent, gas, labor costs and the other operating costs get paid. Whatever is left after that is his profit. He still pays taxes on it, and part of it goes into the reserve. Mr. Grey sums it up: Being the boss doesn’t mean helping yourself first.

The back of the book explains it briefly, for Germany: under 13, kids aren’t allowed to work. At 13 and 14, light tasks are allowed, like taking care of pets, but only with the parents’ okay, for no more than two hours a day and never during school hours. From 15 on, jobs during school vacations are allowed too, for up to four weeks a year. Helping out at home is just part of family life, and it doesn’t automatically come with money. Or as Mr. Grey says: Helping for a bit isn’t a job.

Because everything important is in it. Knut’s offer to Jonas: €3,000 gross a month, forty hours a week, 28 vacation days, and a six-month probation period. Jonas takes it home, because you don’t sign a contract on the fly. And only someone who is allowed to make a promise can make one. Rocky’s paw-print contract doesn’t count. Mojito’s line: Loud is not permission.