Candy Bowl Science

Managers, take note. A friend once told me that having a good human resources manager is the equivalent of finding a good dentist. No one ever wants to see the dentist. You don't visit unless you have to, and you never think about one until the moment you really need one — at which point you want the pain gone now, and you pray the person on the other end is very, very good at what they do.

Most of the time, no one really wants to know Human Resources exists, which is exactly the point. As a manager, you must have your finger on the pulse of your people: what's on their minds, how you can help them work better, and where the next crisis will come from. You can spend all of your time out on the floor, where people hear you with half their attention and answer only in ways that won't get them labeled a snitch. Or you can bring them to your office, where they tighten the suspicion filter and set the alert level to Defcon 2. Setting people at ease takes months. As an HR person, that challenge is tenfold. My mission was to get people to come see me willingly, talk openly, and teach me who they are. That is when I discovered the power of chocolate.

First, I got a bowl. Not a petite art piece that, filled with dog food, wouldn't satisfy a hungry Chihuahua. A bowl big enough for a handful of candy while it still looks full. Then I filled it — not the nameless junk even kids throw away at the Halloween sort. The classics: Hershey's, Nestlé Crunch, Butterfinger, Twix, Kit Kat, the ones that loosen a tongue two bites later. Variety matters, so people spend a few extra seconds hunting (the best is always at the bottom). Hard candies break and look ugly too fast, so I skip them. As the holidays change, so do the wrappers.

Placement is strategic. The bowl is not on my desk. It sits on a table just off the left wall, closer to me than to the door. The most comfortable chair in the room happens to sit right next to it, and you have to get around the chair to get to the bowl. Candy is a happy experience. More important, you really want it when the day is going badly. Demand peaks at the busiest hour and the hardest stretch of the season. Everyone knows they can come in at any time for a piece, so they get used to stopping by — and no one comes in without saying hello. You can't go unnoticed. I never comment on how much you're eating, but I am paying attention to how much and what kind. I keep bigger bars in the desk. If I know you love Cookies-and-Cream Hershey, one bar left at your workstation will get you into my office for a thank-you faster than a sticky note that says "Come to HR."

I know who comes for candy and why. If Bob visits and takes one piece, he is stressed. If he starts to unwrap it in my office, he wants to talk. Carly takes two handfuls, for her and the people around her, and often a teammate too nervous to visit the HR person alone will come with her. Eventually that person stops by on their own. A lot of employees use the candy as a reason to tell me what's really going on, without the walk looking like a trip to the principal.

I never push a conversation. A hello, a thanks for stopping by, and a mention that the bowl is always full is enough. Most visits are brief and full of useful moments. Many a conversation that started with a Twix has ended with knowing who is looking to leave, who is working hard and under-appreciated, or who needs help. After the bowl, 63% more people came to my office on their own. Conversations over a piece or two of candy shaped so much of what we did that half of the employee initiatives we implemented came directly from those visits.

What surprises me is that most managers who try this buy the cheap stuff, put a small bowl on the front of the desk, and wonder why it sits there for months. One manager put a chair directly in front of his desk so you had to sit down facing him to reach a mint. No one came. I also tried a single-serve coffee maker. Making a cup takes too long, people stand there feeling awkward, and mostly directors and executives showed up. The candy bowl lets someone stay in motion: walk in, say hello, and two sentences later they're gone and a little happier, or we're talking about an employee committing timecard fraud.

All of that from candy, which builds trust and makes the room less complicated. This is one tool. What you do with that trust is up to you.

Remember: it takes months to build trust, an entire career to maintain it, and only seconds to blow it to hell. (BTW — the most popular is still Reese's Peanut Butter Cups.)

If you want a people function that actually hears what's going on — not just what's on the survey — let's talk.