11/12/2025
Be a Great Manager — The carrot cake manager
And What They Taught Me About Leadership (Without Ever Meaning To)
Every workplace has that manager.
The one whose job title outshines their actual ability.
The one who walks around like the world owes them a favour.
The self-appointed queen bee… who isn’t very good at being a bee.
For me, that was the Carrot Cake Manager.
Why that name? Don’t worry — we’ll get there.
The Manager Who Never Learned the Job
I once worked under someone who was, quite honestly, horrific at managing people. They never took the time to learn the actual role. They floated above the team, superior and untouchable, while contributing very little that resembled leadership.
They didn’t understand people.
They didn’t want to understand people.
And they certainly didn’t understand the power of calm, steady, human leadership.
Their style was simple:
“cut you down, control you, and do it quietly.”
Underhand moves were their love language.
It made turning up to work genuinely difficult — not just for me, but for many around them. Though I’ll only ever speak from my own experience, the pattern was impossible to miss.
The Day They Lied About Me
At the time, I applied for a role in another part of the business — a role I knew I’d be brilliant in. And honestly? I had it in the bag.
Until the Carrot Cake Manager stepped in.
They told me, proudly, “I’ll fight tooth and nail to keep you.”
What they meant was:
“I’ll sabotage you quietly so you don’t leave.”
They went to the hiring manager and told outright lies about me. Pure nonsense. And it didn’t stay hidden — it escalated. HR got involved. Senior management got involved. Eventually, the truth came out.
They admitted they had lied.
It was as painful as it was revealing. This wasn’t leadership. This wasn’t strength. This was insecurity dressed up as authority.
And here’s the part that gets me:
They never apologised.
Not once.
But They Did Bring… Carrot Cake
After every particularly dreadful week — you know the ones, where morale falls through the floor and dignity falls with it — they would arrive with a beautifully homemade carrot cake.
A stunning cake. Genuinely delicious.
Cinnamon, soft sponge, cream cheese icing… perfection.
And that cake was their apology.
Not spoken. Not owned. Not acknowledged.
Just quietly placed in the staff room like a peace offering from someone who couldn’t face their own behaviour.
Hence: The Carrot Cake Manager.
To this day, whenever I see carrot cake, I think of them — and the irony of trying to sugarcoat terrible leadership.
The Carrot Cake Manager: The Sweetest Apology from the Worst Boss I Ever Had
The Plot Twist: I Ended Up Taking Their Job
Eventually, I left that team and moved into other roles across the business. Life got better. Leadership got better. My confidence grew.
Years later, life (and a very interesting project) led me right back into that department. Same team. Same challenges. Same Carrot Cake Manager.
Except this time, something shifted.
They looked at me one day and said:
“You’re going to take my job, aren’t you?”
I shrugged. But internally? I suspected they were right.
And yes — I did take their job. I took it, grew it, and made it a career defining role!
Turning the Team Around
What I walked into was a team on the floor.
Disengaged. Demotivated. Trodden on.
People who had forgotten their worth.
But here’s the thing about humans:
Give them respect, encouragement, clarity, and kindness… and they lift.
Within months, the team was transformed.
Colourful. Energetic. Engaged.
We smashed targets repeatedly — bringing in millions of pounds in additional revenue.
Not because I was some kind of hero.
But because happy people create happy businesses.
Leadership isn’t complicated.
People just want to feel valued, supported, and trusted.
They want a manager who listens.
A manager who nurtures.
A manager who doesn’t weaponise carrot cake as emotional currency.
The Moral of the Story
The Carrot Cake Manager taught me everything I needed to know about what not to do.
Their behaviour was painful — but incredibly powerful as a lesson.
Because when you witness bad leadership up close, you learn to lead differently.
Calm.
Fair.
Human.
Accountable.
And without lies, manipulation, or baked goods masquerading as apologies.
So yes — I became a far better manager than they ever were.
But honestly?
A small part of me still misses the carrot cake.
(Not the leadership though. Never that.)
If this story resonated, you’ll love the conversations happening in my Be a Great Manager community on Skool. It’s a supportive, down-to-earth space where managers learn to lead with calm confidence — and leave the carrot cake apologies behind.
