Communication Breakdown

Communication breakdown, it's always the same

Havin' a nervous breakdown, a-drive me insane

- Led Zeppelin

My folks once told me what people don't say can often tell you far more than anything they actually utter.  I know none of us like it when Mom and Dad are proven right yet again - the only thing that might qualify as worse is being proven wrong by your spouse (not that I would know, of course - hey, quit rolling those eyes!) - but this entry concerns just that lesson brought to life.

Last week I had my third interview with a prominent communications company.  After two phone interviews, they told me that they wanted me to come in and do a full panel interview with five - yes, five - different managers that will take approximately two hours.  Since the position I'm interviewing for is a learning consultant, I'm also going to be expected to deliver a 15-minute presentation afterward, followed by 15 minutes of Q & A, and then some debrief.  All in all, the process is expected to take about three hours. 

Oh, and did I mention I get to do all of this with a major head cold and pounding sinus congestion?  Call me Mr. Lucky. 

So, I get to work.  I prep a briefing packet for the hiring manager, write up up some examples for the obligatory situation-action-result stories I'll be expected to tell, and put together a 15-slide presentation that I rehearse and time to make sure it matches the given specifics.  And to make sure I cover all possible bases, I also download the company's logo and match my template to their image colors. 

The interview day comes, and I pop a couple of cold tablets and guzzle coffee to counteract the sedative effects of the meds.  I knock every question out of the park.  When the time comes to deliver my presentation, I shake hands with each attendee (making sure to slip out between the interview and my presentation to wash my hands thoroughly - courtesy is contagious, don't you know...) and hand out nametags so I can call on people by name.   When I'm done, I know I've done everything I can to nail this solid.  To leave absolutely nothing whatsoever to chance, I spend the evening carefully writing and proofing my thank-you messages that I e-mail the next morning to everyone I met. 

Nothing happens. 

Don't get me wrong, I'm not expecting anything major, but after all this work and preparation, something gnaws at me when I hear no reply whatsoever.  No courtesy acknowledgment, no thank-you-for-coming-in-and-we'll-be-in-touch message, no nothing.  Hmm, I tell myself.  This does not bode well.  If they were serious, wouldn't they at least be a bit more proactive here?  Besides, how difficult is it to hit "reply" and then at least acknowledge the message with one or two quick lines? 

This was when my parents' saying leapt into my head.  If they weren't saying anything...

The following Monday, I decided to roll the dice.  The hiring manager had said I'd hear something back by the end of the week, and while it's only the next business day, I can't help but think that something must be up if not a single person has bothered to send me any message whatsoever.  I think back to the job interviews I've had that led to offers and recall how quickly those firms moved to get me.  If they really want you, they move fast.  If they don't...

[Aside:  Sure, I know telling someone, "You'll hear from us by the end of the week" ranks somewhere between "The check is in the mail" and "I'll still respect you in the morning" in terms of its honesty, but after months and months of corporate mistreatment, let's just say my nose for shenanigans has reached  "bloodhound" level.  Keep reading.]

There can be only one answer, I think to myself (channeling my best inner "Highlander" - cue the Queen music here).  They've got someone else in mind, and now they're waiting to hear from him or her before getting back to me. 

"Hi, [NAME]," I e-mail the recruiter.  "I wanted to reach out and let you know I had another interview this morning; and I understand the company is going to put an offer on the table later this week.  Can you let me know where things stand with my candidacy at [COMPANY]?  I've not heard any follow-up from you or [HIRING MANAGER'S NAME], so if you've decided to go with another candidate, I understand but will need to know one way or another so I can make an informed decision.  Please let me know. Thanks."

A few hours later, I get a reply:

"Dear John:

Do you have time to talk tomorrow at 11:00 a.m.?  Let me know and I'll give you a call on your cell phone.

[RECRUITER]"

Oh, for crying out loud, I say.  (Yes, I actually slapped my forehead after getting this message.)  What kind of sadistic game is this?  If I didn't make the cut or you've got someone else, just rip the band-aid off already!

I write back:

"Happy to connect, but there's no real point unless we're still looking at moving forward with my candidacy.  If you're moving ahead with another candidate, please let me know so I can pursue other options.  If there is a delay and I'm still in the running, let me know and I'll be happy to follow up tomorrow."  In other words, please don't waste any more of my time or yours with any more back and forth if this decision has already been made.

An hour later, I get my answer:

"Dear John:

While we were impressed with your credentials and your presentation [BLAH-BLAH-BLAH], we've decided to pursue an internal candidate for this position..."

THANK GOD, I tell myself.  THEY'RE FINALLY BEING HONEST!

Now, truth be told, was I disappointed?  Of course - to a point.  The job was an excellent match, and I knew I could fulfill the responsibilities.  Granted, there may have been some areas where I had a question or two - no job or match is perfect - but I swung for the fences and did everything that I honestly think could have been done to nail this.  But what was my reward for my three interviews and meticulous preparation?  A ridiculous song and dance routine for a job that was already filled to begin with.  And since everything in life sooner or later parallels a Seinfeld episode, I naturally thought immediately of Elaine's interview.   (And yes, the part at the end where she says, "Thank you!" reflected my sentiments in my follow-up exactly.)

So what's my take-away from this experience?  Just a reaffirmation of what my parents told me:  Always note what people say; but pay even more attention to what isn't said  Because more often than not, the latter tells you far more than the former ever will.