Hello everyone, I’m currently pursuing an MBA. Early in my career, I worked as a sales associate at a high-end jewelry store. That experience gave me a profound understanding of how compensation structures subtly shape our behavior. Today, I’d like to share this story in hopes of sparking reflection on workplace incentives.
It was three years ago, as I neared graduation from my undergraduate program. I urgently needed a job to gain experience and strengthen my MBA application. The jewelry store position seemed glamorous: while the base salary was modest, it promised generous sales commissions—5% to 10% of each piece sold. Initially, I was full of enthusiasm. I arrived early every day, meticulously arranged the display windows, proactively studied jewelry knowledge, and even worked weekends to visit potential clients. In my first month, I exceeded sales targets, and commissions doubled my income. That sense of accomplishment and financial reward fueled my motivation. Compensation played a positive role here: directly linked to performance, it ignited my competitive drive and willingness to work hard. Psychologically, this aligns with “extrinsic motivation theory”—monetary rewards reinforced my behavior, reinforcing the belief that effort pays off.
However, the good times didn’t last. As market competition intensified, foot traffic dwindled while sales targets kept rising. My base salary barely covered essentials, and commissions became increasingly unattainable—often, I spent hours meeting clients only to close a few deals due to price sensitivity. This led to frustration: Why wasn’t my effort yielding commensurate rewards? The compensation structure’s flaws became glaringly obvious: it relied too heavily on unpredictable factors (such as external market conditions) and lacked a stable foundation. This led me to gradually scale back my extra efforts, shifting to a “minimum effort” mode—completing only basic tasks without pursuing innovation or overtime. Ultimately, after a year, I decided to leave and simultaneously applied to MBA programs. The inadequacy of compensation made me realize that, in the long term, I needed a career that emphasizes comprehensive benefits (such as training opportunities and career development paths) rather than just performance bonuses.
This experience prompted reflection: compensation isn’t just a monetary figure; it’s a signal. It conveys an employer’s recognition of employee value. If compensation is poorly designed—overemphasizing short-term performance while neglecting long-term stability—it drives negative employee behavior: shifting from high motivation to low commitment, or even resignation. Conversely, balanced compensation (base salary, bonuses, and benefits) fosters sustainable effort. During my MBA studies, I took a human resources management course that further reinforced this insight: effective incentive systems boost productivity, while ineffective ones can lead to talent loss.
Now, as an MBA student, I prioritize long-term career returns—including learning opportunities and networking resources. My jewelry store experience fostered personal growth and serves as a reminder: scrutinizing the logic behind compensation helps us make wiser workplace decisions.