“The difference in the two jobs was night and day,” Caitland explained. “The higher paying job had a better title. Managing Director, I think. The other company had lower pay, a lower title, but the work was more interesting, more challenging, in the end, more satisfying.”

“What was it about the work that made it more satisfying?” I asked.

“The Managing Director job was just that. I managed and I directed. Actually, it was a glorified supervisor position. Very frustrating. I was supposed to make sure the work got done, but I felt like I was putting my thumb in the dike. I could easily see better ways to achieve the goals, systems that we could create to more effectively solve the same problems over and over. But my boss was resistant. He said that creating those systems would be a waste of time, there were always too many exceptions.”

“And why was the other position more satisfying?” I repeated.

“A lot less stress, even though we produced more than double the output of the other company. It’s funny, I never fixed a problem while I was there. I only focused on systems. I would fix the system and the system would fix ten problems. We seldom worked overtime, but were much more productive.”

“As a manager, if all you can offer is money, what kind of issues do you constantly face? More importantly, if we are trying to get some work done around here, how can we bring out the best in people?” I repeated.

Caitland hesitated. “I guess my experience is from my first few jobs. Money was the only reason I worked. It’s how I put myself through school. The only reason I worked was for the money. And if I got a better offer, more money, for another job, I jumped on it.”

“Did you ever take a job, based on compensation, that you wished you hadn’t taken? Even though the money was better than your previous job?” I pressed.

She nodded her head. “Yes, but, in my mind, I told myself they were paying for a lousy job and that’s why the money was better. Funny. They were paying for a lousy job.”

“And have you ever taken a job that was so interesting that the money didn’t matter?”

Again, Caitland nodded. “Yes, don’t tell anyone, but this job, I would work for free.”

“So, tell me, what’s the difference in the work?”

“But, you can’t make your living if you only work for free,” Caitland pushed back.

“No, we do have to survive. We need food and shelter. And we will work to make sure we have those things in good supply,” I replied. “But if that is the only meaning someone gets out of their job, what do you think happens?”

“That’s easy. If they find another job that pays ten cents an hour more, they’re gone. Or worse yet, they come back and try to negotiate for more money every other week.”

“So, as a manager, if all you can offer is money, what kind of issues do you constantly face? More importantly, if we are trying to get some work done around here, how can we bring out the best in people?”

“Thinking about your team, what is it that you think people really want out of their job?” I asked.

Caitland was looking for the trick in the question, but her answer jumped out, shaking her head, “It’s money. Just ask them. Especially today.”

“So, you think money is the prime motivator?” I followed.

“You mean, it’s not,” Caitland baited.

I smiled. “Have you ever heard of Encyclopedia Britannica?”

Caitland nodded. “My parents owned a set. When I was a kid, we used to copy out of it, for our homework assignments. We had a special heavy duty bookshelf. Those books weighed a lot.”

“And what happened to that company?”

“I’m not sure. When CDs came out, there was a company called Encarta. A whole encyclopedia on a CD.”

“And what happened to that company?”

Caitland stopped. “I’m guessing they are out of business, too. Now, I just use Wikipedia.”

“And how much money are the writer’s paid to work for Wikipedia?”

Caitland smiled.

“Caitland, you have been a manager for a while in this company. I know you have received awards, plaques and certificates for things you have done. But I only see a couple up on your wall,” I observed.

“You’re right,” she said, leaning over to open a long file drawer. “Look at these. I actually think it’s company policy to only give out awards that fit in file drawers.”

“But, aren’t you proud of the recognition?”

“You, know, it’s nice. But after a while, the plaques are all the same.”

“How so?” I asked.

“You want to know what really makes me feel a part of the team, I mean the management team. Every Wednesday, the three top executives in the company go to lunch. Two months ago, they asked me to go with them. In that lunch, they shared some exciting news about a new product launch. It made me feel an important part of what’s going on around here. I would trade all of my plaques for more of those conversations.”

“Someone wrote you a note of appreciation seven years ago, and you still have it. Was it written on some special expensive stationery?” I asked.

“No, just a short note written on a piece of plain paper,” Caitland replied.

“Then, how did you know to keep it?”

“I didn’t know I should keep it, I just did. It wasn’t much, but it was about me, something I had done. It made me feel like I had made a genuine contribution to a project.”

“So, it changed the way you felt, on the inside?” I followed.

“Yes, it changed the way I felt, on the inside, about myself.”

“You want me to write a note, a handwritten note of appreciation to a member of my team? Sounds kind of corny to me,” Caitland resisted. “If you are really serious, can’t I just send her an email?”

“You could, but what would be the point?” I asked. “As long as we have been working together, my purpose has always been, leverage and impact. I am not trying to make you out to your team, as some warm and fuzzy person. In fact, this conversation isn’t about you. It’s about your team. It’s about leverage and impact.”

“I am not saying, I won’t write the note, I am saying I don’t know if it will make any difference.”

“Caitland, I want you to think, back through your life. Has anyone every written you a note of appreciation?”

Caitland’s face turned from resistance to a smile. She didn’t respond immediately. “Okay, I’m busted. Yes, I have one of those notes.”

“You mean, you still have the note?” I guessed.

“Yes. From seven years ago. I haven’t looked at it in a while, but I know exactly where it is.”