Here lately, there’s been a lot of theorizing about what my desktop candy jar is really all about. Because I’m trained to manipulate human behavior, these theories often have a psychological basis. Here are a few.

1. The Positive Reinforcement Theory: This is the belief that I am reinforcing people for coming to my desk. When you come to my desk, you get candy. When you don’t come to my desk, you don’t get candy. So, you come to my desk more often.

2. The Classical Conditioning Theory: This is the belief that I am trying to pair my books with candy. My books are next to my candy jar. You see them when you get the candy. So eventually, you associate my books with good things like candy — and maybe, one day, you’ll even read them.

3. The Controlled Experiment Theory: This is the belief that I am conducting a controlled experiment at my desk in which certain candies elicit certain types of behavior. There’s much speculation on which types of candies produce which types of behaviors. Complex.

I don’t mean to disappoint, but the truth is, there’s no psychological basis for what I’m doing with the candy jar. There is, however, an explanation…Years ago, I decided that I wanted to make a difference in the lives of others. At the time, I thought that meant I would have to work with broken people — in a helping profession like medicine or counseling or social work. That’s one of the reasons why I became a Doctor of Psychology. But as I worked with the type of people that I was hoping to serve, I faced challenges that deeply saddened me. There were so many broken people. Many couldn’t be fixed. When you’re a caring person, it’s actually really hard to work in a caring profession. Someone once told me that the best Psychologist is the one who doesn’t really care about their patients. I think they were right.

When I came to industry, there was a part of me that believed that I would have to leave my aspirations of making a difference behind. In industry, I wouldn’t work with broken people. In industry, it would just be about business. But as the years went by, I started to notice some people in my workplace who needed a little extra push. Sometimes, it was extra encouragement. Other times, it was a helping hand. Still other times, it was just having someone who would listen to them for five minutes. These were not broken people. They’d do just fine without me. But they made me think that maybe I could still do some good in my life — that maybe I could still make a difference, in my own way.

Over the years, I’ve come to believe that you can be in a helping profession in any workplace. It doesn’t take broken people or some tragic social situation. It doesn’t have to be complicated. Little things can make a big difference. And sometimes, they are just as important. Each person has the power to make a difference every day in the lives of others — no matter where they work. You can find that power in a kind smile. In a compliment. In a candy jar.