You are, of course, absolutely correct. With decision they make, the leader of a Fortune 500 company is risking their ability to wield enormous amounts of power over the lives of countless other people, as well as their ability enjoy a lifestyle that is for all intents and purposes bounded only by imagination. You're right that this is, indeed, a huge risk to take.
Obviously, given the sheer magnitude of this risk, it follows that they deserve millions upon millions of dollars in annual compensation, simply to guard against the ever-present chance that they could suddenly find themselves out of a job, well along the road to destitution and ruin, with but a few scant tens of millions of dollars' worth of golden parachute to see them through the rest of their lives.
Then, of course, there's the less tangible but equally massive "lifestyle" loss. After all, if you're used to being able to fly in private comfort to any corner of the globe at a moment's notice, the thought of having to book first-class tickets on a commercial airliner to any part of the globe at a moment's notice should rightly send chills down your spine. How, one wonders, can an individual survive the crushing shame of discovering that all the people you counted as close personal friends are suddenly revealed to be greed-driven, narcissistic sociopaths who won't even invite you on weekend jaunts to the Calicos anymore, let alone return your calls?
There's every reason to pay top executives the highest salaries in a company. That does not mean, however, that top executives should be given the mind-bogglingly exorbitant compensation they receive today. If, by dint of chronic bad decision making, a group of executives can effectively destroy a major multinational company and suffer what is essentially a blow to one's pride as a result, there is a serious problem with executive compensation.
If you compensate the guy flying your plane based on how high and how fast he can fly, ask yourself if it's a good idea to give him an ejector seat and a parachute when everyone else has to make do with seat cushions and life vests.