The War On Talent

The unemployment rate coupled with the overeducated graduates of the world has started an interesting battle. The War on Talent is waged with finding the cream of the crop candidates. It is followed by promising them the moon. The final step is working their exempt ass so much that their hourly rate translates into minimum wage.

The War on Talent is born in the boardroom. Each silver spooned executive pushing their own alma mater. This usually consists of Ivy League and other regionally convenient top tier schools. They delegate the initiative to Talent Managers within the company who schedule the lifecycle of recruiting. It originates with a phone call, escalates to a campus interview, and culminates to an onsite in the lion’s den.

Mortimer, time to find some new candidates.

Soon to be graduates are weeded out in a pre-screening phone interview. This involves some background on the company, providing info on the position itself along with softball questions like, “Can you spell the name of our company” and “Tell me about your experience in retail?” The first question alone weeds out about 90% of the candidates. Think I’m kidding? You try spelling, “Takanami Hashimoto Consulting.”
 
The pruning continues in the form of face to face campus interviews. Personnel already head to their respective campuses and wear the recruiter hat for the trip. It gives them a reason to leave behind their spouses in exchange for young, spry co-eds. It is also a power trip. These same recruiters who were the victims of fraternity pranks now walk the campus in a power suit. And those same fraternities will be groveling at their feet for a job. The candidates need approval from the recruiters in order to proceed to the promise land.
 
The recruiters go through a marathon of interviews with all available candidates. They gather their notes and then decide who makes the first cut. For those candidates who showed up late, were chewing gum, or smelled like the inside of a bong: bye-bye. Easy decisions for the recruiters and also a way for them to score weed.  The next tier is filled with candidates that everyone liked or had strong references but whose accomplishments were related to how long they were able to stay away from home without crying. Good, not good enough: bye-bye. And then there are the A-listers: candidates who happen to be doing real work in college, have a solid internal recommendation, and shine in the interview. Polished and seasoned like a second chair in the National Symphony. The promise land, almost there.
 
The respective company pulls out all the stops for the on-site. The candidates are possibly entering their new home. They are being taken off their campus and placed in the lion’s den. No expense spared: boardroom is reserved, catering is provided, and the bathrooms are finally cleaned. Each candidate enters with wide eyes channeling the same uncertainty as a newborn trying to walk. It’s really happening. The last set of interviews is the final cut. The pruning hedges have turned into a machete. A one shot tryout where the slightest gesture, mannerism or word could put you in the outbox.

 

Yes, I'm here for the interview.

It’s a grind: detailed questions requiring detailed answers. Questions that prod at different angles involving behavior based traits, analytical capabilities, creative outlets and your favorite white-collar criminal. No one cares what the candidate has done at this point. It’s what can they do and how they will do it.

And if the candidate makes it through that final hoop, they are hired. Congratulations, you can now change the world. But first, let’s change the toner.