The Award You Pay for Yourself

"We're introducing a new team award today," Chris said enthusiastically. "It's called the Candy Jar Award."  

He held up a medium-sized clear plastic container with a blue lid. It looked like it originally held a Kirkland fancy nut mix. Now it was full of Halloween-sized Reese's Peanut Butter Cups, M&M's, Kit Kat, and the like.

Chris explained that the award would be given by one teammate to another at the bi-weekly team meetings, the criteria being a rather ambiguous "doing a good job." He then added that whoever got the award each time would be responsible for keeping the candy jar full before passing it along to the next winner. 

Wait, what? I had to pipe up.

"So you actually have to pay for your own award then?" I asked, trying not to sound contrary.

Nervous chuckles rippled around the table. 

"Ah, well, you have to fill it up for the next person, yes," replied Chris.

Awkward silence.

I'm sure the new award seemed like a good idea in theory. Boost morale and team solidarity by giving someone a cask of candy to recognize his or her hard work. It would be like a big, sugary high five. But how to do it without having to ask the boss for some extra funds from the company till?  Oh, I know: have the team members pay for their own award!

Let's see how this concept would apply to other situations.

"Congratulations on winning that gold medal!  Now take us out to dinner."

"This is a fantastic report card! As a reward for your straight As, I'm going to let you buy yourself a new pair of shoes with your own money." 

 "You did such a good job with with your chores this week that you get to treat the whole family to ice cream."



"I'd like to take you to a movie to thank you for bringing me dinner last week. Can you give me $15 for the ticket?"

Team meetings are a bit perilous now that the Candy Jar Award is in circulation. When it's mentioned, I slump in my seat, hoping not to be noticed, praying not to receive this costly award. I've also thought of ways to sabotage it if I am every unlucky enough to get it, such as putting a $10 bill in the jar instead of candy (too expensive), filling the jar with salad before handing it off to the next person (healthier than candy), or simply stashing it in a desk drawer so nothing will get eaten before I hand it off. This award gives new meaning to the phrase "victim of one's own success." While I've never been one to settle for mediocrity, I now hope I never do well enough to merit the candy jar.