In 1960, two brothers scraped together $900 and bought a failing pizzeria in Michigan, launching what would become a cautionary tale about sales incentive programs gone wrong. Within months, one brother traded his half of the business for a beat-up Volkswagen, leaving Tom Monaghan alone with his ambitions. By 1965, with three stores under his belt, Tom faced a naming crisis. He couldn't legally keep using the original name, DomiNick's, so an employee suggested "Domino's." The logo? Three dots, one for each store. Tom figured he'd add a new dot for every location. After opening store number five, he wisely reconsidered that plan. Because what happened next wasn't just growth—it was an explosion that would teach sales leaders everywhere a crucial lesson about the double-edged sword of powerful incentives. How One Sales Incentive Program Nearly Destroyed a Billion-Dollar Company Here's what America looked like in the early 1980s: Microwave ovens were revolutionizing kitchens, Federal Express was making overnight delivery an expectation, and Americans weren't just eating faster—they were living faster. Domino's fit perfectly into this new rhythm, but Tom Monaghan wanted more. In a move that bordered on dangerous, he made a promise so simple it would define the company for decades: "Pizza Delivered in 30 Minutes or It's Free." It wasn't just about pizza. It was about certainty. And America bought it—literally. Within a year, sales exploded. From 200 stores in 1978 to over 2,500 by 1985. Over 5,000 by 1989. Every store became a speed factory with slimmed-down menus, cookie-cutter layouts, and drivers who might as well have been sitting behind the wheel with engines already running. Competitors couldn't keep up. But here's the brutal truth about speed: you don't see the danger until it's too late. The Hidden Dangers of Performance-Based Compensation Here's what every sales leader needs to understand: Powerful sales incentives, pushed too far, create unintended consequences that can destroy company culture. This principle, that when metrics become targets, they cease to be good metrics, would prove devastatingly true for Domino's. At first, the cracks were small. A delivery driver rolling a stop sign here, a speeding ticket there. But this wasn't a system built to reward patience—it was built to reward speed at any cost. Inside Domino's stores, the pressure wasn't subtle. Drivers were expected to race the clock. If they missed the 30-minute mark, some franchises made them pay for the order out of their own pockets. The message was clear: make it fast, or make it up yourself. Rolling stops became running red lights. Neighborhood shortcuts turned into risky maneuvers through heavy traffic. What customers didn't see—and what Domino's executives refused to acknowledge—was that they'd created a ticking time bomb. Speed wasn't just a business model anymore; it had become a way of life that determined every employee's behavior, and smart sales leaders understand this connection between incentives and culture. By the late 1980s, insurance companies raised Domino's premiums by 15-20 percent. Reports surfaced of accidents tied to delivery drivers rushing to meet the 30-minute window. Then came the story that changed everything: A Domino's driver in St. Louis ran a red light, colliding with another vehicle. Inside that car was Jean Kinder, whose life was permanently changed. The jury awarded her $78 million in punitive damages. In 1993, Domino's officially ended the 30-minute guarantee in the United States. Here's what most sales leaders get wrong about incentives: they don't just shape what people do—they shape who people become. Sound familiar? It should. Because this same pattern plays out in sales organizations every single day. 5 Warning Signs Your Sales Incentives Are Backfiring Take Wells Fargo's aggressive cross-selling goals in the mid-2010s. Supervisors told bankers to open more accounts,