Money works only because we trust each other more than cash

When a six-person design studio in Seoul hit its stride, they still relied on IOUs scrawled on napkins for small favours. Someone would say, “Can you grab my extra cappuccino?” and after a frantic day, the barista might have forgotten who owed whom. A single Thanksgiving missed coffee brewed more bad blood than any deadline fiasco.

The team’s manager, Min-ji, spotted an article about exceptional teams using mini-currencies to track small tasks. She slid a box of poker chips and a whiteboard onto the coffee cart and announced: “From today on, each chip equals one shot espresso. Owe coffee? Here’s the rate.” Within hours, not only did the coffee runs get done, but everyone started using chips to request petty cash reimbursements and quick photo favors. The ledger stayed tidy, and the barista stopped shrugging whenever someone said, “I’ll pay you back.”

Three months later, the studio’s net trust score—measured by monthly internal surveys—jumped by 40%. Projects met deadlines more consistently, since no one avoided small asks out of fear of debt. The chips became a symbol not of debt, but of a shared commitment: “I see you. I’ll help.” The lesson? Money is nothing more than a promise you believe others will keep. When you create a shared micro-currency, even a handful of chips, you can solve trust gaps that spreadsheets can’t touch.

Try it in your next small group: drop a stack of tokens and say, “These get you one instant answer from me today.” Manage the ledger on a sticky note. Before you know it, simple asks—proofreading one slide, fetching a cable—won’t clog up group chat. You’ll all move faster and trust each other a little more.