There’s no such thing as a free perk. At some point, the simplicity of a “monthly salary” stopped working. Not because people wanted more, but because the lines started blurring. Company contributions, medical aid, retirement funds, car allowances, cellphone stipends — it all adds up quietly.
So someone, somewhere in HR or finance, had a smart (and slightly sneaky) idea: why not package all of it together into one neat number? That way, everyone knows exactly what they cost the business. Welcome to the world of Total Guaranteed Package — a beautifully ambiguous compensation model that’s as transparent as it is confusing.
What does Total Guaranteed Package mean?
On paper, TGP is the sum of every fixed cost an employer commits to for an employee. That includes your base salary, benefits, allowances, and employer contributions, all rolled into a single figure.
Think of it like the company saying: “Here’s everything we’re paying, from your pension fund to your petrol card. You decide how to slice it.”
It’s clean. It’s tidy. It usually shows up as one bold number on offer letters and employment contracts. But don’t mistake clarity for simplicity — because the devil, as always, lives in the deductions.
The candidate’s first question: “Why is my take-home lower than I expected?”
This is where things usually get messy. When candidates see a big TGP number, it feels like a win. Until payroll kicks in and the deposit in their bank account is underwhelming. That’s because many people are used to thinking in terms of net salary — the money that actually lands in their account — not gross, and definitely not TGP.
This confusion isn’t just on the candidate’s side either. Companies regularly bungle this too, especially when converting legacy salaries or hiring across regions. What starts out as a seemingly competitive offer can end up feeling like a bait-and-switch if the person wasn’t walked through the math.
And when clarity collapses, trust tends to follow.
More choice doesn’t always feel like more freedom
One of the big promises of TGP is flexibility. People can customise their remuneration. They can decide how much goes to retirement, how comprehensive their medical aid is, whether they want allowances or extra cash.
But most employees aren’t financial planners.
Giving people the ability to restructure their package is only helpful if they understand the implications. Without guidance, they end up choosing based on short-term gain — which sometimes means lower long-term security, and occasionally, regret.
So yes, TGP offers flexibility. But it quietly shifts financial planning responsibility away from the employer and onto the employee. And depending on how well supported people are, that flexibility can feel more like an obligation.
When fairness becomes invisible, resentment starts brewing
Here’s a scenario you don’t want: two people doing the same job, earning the same TGP, walk away with very different take-home pay. One opted for a maxed-out retirement contribution. The other chose higher allowances. Same package, completely different outcomes.
Technically fair. Emotionally? Not so much.
Humans compare. And when comparison feels unfair, it creates tension. Even if you explain it logically, people will sense inequality if their colleague’s lifestyle seems better funded.
The other challenge is benchmarking. If everyone’s TGP is structured differently, it becomes hard to standardise internal pay bands. That affects performance reviews, promotions, and even company morale.
What starts as flexibility ends up making consistency harder to enforce.
Hiring across countries makes this even more complicated
Now imagine trying to do all of this with a global team.
A benefit in one country might be taxed as income in another. Medical aid costs vary wildly. Car allowances might be expected in some markets and irrelevant in others. TGP sounds like a one-size-fits-all system, but compensation norms don’t travel well.
So what happens? You start adjusting packages to suit local standards. You localise, negotiate, tweak. Pretty soon, the neat uniformity of TGP turns into a patchwork of custom structures, with a side of confusion.
That’s not failure — it’s just the reality of global hiring. But it means TGP isn’t the plug-and-play model some make it out to be. It needs a strategy, not just a spreadsheet.
Transparency doesn’t help if no one understands it
One of the main arguments for TGP is that it brings transparency. Everyone knows the full value of what they’re getting.
But here’s the catch: if people don’t understand the components, transparency doesn’t feel like honesty. It just feels confusing.
Employees often ask:
- Can I change this component?
- Why is my retirement contribution so high?
- What happens if I opt out of medical aid?
These aren’t annoying questions, they’re red flags that your pay model hasn’t been explained properly.
Transparency isn’t about showing your math. It’s about making sure people actually get the math. If they don’t, then what you’ve offered isn’t really clarity. It’s just exposure.
Should early-stage companies even bother with TGP?
This is where you should pause and think.
For large companies with thousands of employees and multiple levels of seniority, TGP brings structure and predictability. It’s easier to manage at scale.
But if you’re running a lean startup, juggling investor meetings and hiring your tenth employee, do you really need a complex package model?
Probably not.
In early-stage businesses, the priority is fairness, simplicity, and clarity. A straightforward salary with a few clear benefits is often more valuable than an overly flexible package that creates confusion.
That said, if you’re planning to scale quickly or need to align compensation across a fast-growing team, TGP can give you a solid framework. Just don’t copy-paste corporate models into a startup culture that’s still forming its identity.
The number doesn’t matter if the understanding is broken
TGP is not a silver bullet. It’s just a tool. And like all tools, its success depends on how you use it.
If you’re going to use it, invest the time to educate your team. Break it down clearly when you’re making offers. Walk through scenarios. Update people when components change.
Because here’s the thing: the moment someone feels tricked by their payslip, whether you meant it or not, you’ve lost something far more expensive than a bit of payroll complexity.
You’ve lost trust. And rebuilding that costs way more than a line item in your budget.
FAQs
Can we use NDAs to stop employees from talking about internal issues publicly?
You can try. But if what they’re discussing falls under protected disclosures, like harassment, discrimination, or illegal activity, then you’re skating on very thin legal ice. Courts don’t love gag orders dressed up as contracts, and retaliation for whistleblowing usually backfires harder than the original complaint.
We’re a small team, do we really need formal policies?
If you’re paying people, yes. “We’re just five people and vibes” doesn’t hold up when someone files a complaint. Having policies doesn’t make you bureaucratic, it makes you less exposed. Start simple: contracts, leave policy, anti-harassment policy. Build from there.
Is it legal to monitor employees’ activity on work devices?
Yes, with caveats. You need to be transparent. Covert monitoring without notice? Usually a no. But disclosing that systems are monitored in your IT policy? That’s how most companies manage it. Just don’t get creepy. And never monitor personal accounts, even on company hardware, without very clear legal guidance.
Can we fire someone for poor performance without going through a whole process?
Technically? Maybe. But practically? You’re begging for a dispute. Even in at-will employment countries, firing someone without a clear, documented process can land you in trouble, especially if the person in question belongs to a legally protected group. Due process protects more than the employee, it protects you when the questions start flying.
What’s our responsibility if we suspect a manager is mistreating someone, but nothing’s been reported?
Pretending you didn’t see it isn’t a defense. If someone in leadership is creating a toxic, discriminatory, or unsafe environment, it’s your responsibility to investigate, even if no formal complaint has come through. “We didn’t know” rarely holds up when screenshots, Slack messages, and exit interviews say otherwise.
Are we liable for the behavior of third-party contractors or vendors?
Possibly. If they’re on your premises, working under your supervision, or interacting with your team, you have a responsibility to ensure they don’t harass, endanger, or discriminate against your employees. Outsourcing doesn’t mean offloading legal responsibility.
What’s the risk in not having a grievance procedure?
Pretty high. If employees don’t have a clear route to raise concerns internally, those concerns will go public, or legal. And you lose the opportunity to solve problems quietly and fairly. A good grievance procedure isn’t just a compliance box; it’s a pressure release valve.
We’ve never had a complaint, isn’t that a sign we’re doing fine?
Not necessarily. Silence can mean fear, not satisfaction. If you’ve never had a complaint, ask yourself: are people genuinely happy, or just worried they won’t be taken seriously if they speak up?
Do remote employees get the same rights as office-based employees?
Yes. If they’re on your payroll (or working full-time through an EOR), then they’re entitled to the same protections, even if they’re working from a beach chair in Bali. Location may affect which country’s labor laws apply, but remote does not equal disposable.