Screw It. I'm Done with This Recruitment Industry BS
Dear Recruitment Industry,
It’s not me, it’s you. Really. I’m breaking up with you, and no, we can’t just be friends. We’ve had a long, toxic relationship, and I’ve finally found the courage to say what everyone else in this soul-sucking industry is too afraid to admit: working in executive search is like being in a relationship with a narcissistic partner who constantly gaslights you. And you know what? I deserve better.
For years, I’ve danced to your impossible tune, chasing after candidates who vanish faster than a free lunch in the break room. You’ve made me believe I could find the perfect unicorn candidate, all while dangling unattainable commissions just out of reach. You’re the master of mixed signals, one minute praising my efforts, the next minute berating me for not finding a purple squirrel with ten years of blockchain experience.
The endless cycle of unrealistic expectations, thankless hours, and mind-numbing bureaucracy has taken its toll. I’m done pretending that this is normal or acceptable. I deserve a career where my efforts are valued, my sanity is intact, and my clients don't make me want to scream into the void. So here’s to new beginnings, without you dragging me down. Goodbye, Recruitment Industry. Don’t call me, I won’t be calling you.
The "Perfect Fit" Fantasy: Chasing Unicorns in Business Suits
Let’s talk about the “perfect fit.” We spend countless hours crafting job descriptions that sound like they’ve been pulled from a fever dream: “Must have 20 years of experience, a PhD in Rocket Science, speak five languages fluently, and be willing to relocate to a remote island in the Pacific for a salary that barely covers their student loans.”
These candidates don’t exist. It’s like being on a perpetual treasure hunt, where the treasure is a figment of someone’s overactive imagination. The hiring managers seem to believe that somewhere out there, a magical being with all these qualifications is just waiting for the chance to join their team.
We’re asked to find a unicorn in a haystack, and when we don’t, we’re the ones who look incompetent. It’s not enough to find a candidate who meets 90% of the criteria; if they’re not a perfect 100%, they’re tossed aside like yesterday’s leftovers. Meanwhile, hiring managers cling to their unrealistic expectations, convinced their fantasy candidate will gallop into the office any day now.
And let’s not forget the cherry on top: the budget. They want the world’s most qualified candidate but are willing to offer a compensation package that would make a fresh graduate scoff. “Oh, you’ve discovered the cure for cancer and can solve complex algorithms in your sleep? Great, we’re offering an entry-level salary with no benefits and a promise of ‘great company culture.’”
In the end, we’re left trying to bridge the gap between fantasy and reality. It’s a never-ending cycle of hope and disappointment, leaving us recruiters wondering if we’re the crazy ones for playing along.
The Client is Always Right… Except When They're Completely Wrong
Clients. Ah, the clients. They’re the gift that keeps on… taking. They come to us with urgent, impossible requests, demanding we drop everything. "We need a C-suite executive who also moonlights as a rockstar, can speak 12 languages, and is willing to work for the same salary as an intern. And we need them yesterday." We scramble, pulling every string, working late into the night, only for them to disappear like Houdini.
When they finally reappear, it’s as if they’ve suffered a collective amnesia. They’ve either forgotten about the search entirely or have decided to “pivot” their strategy. “We’re no longer looking for a CFO with 20 years of experience; we now need a junior analyst who can also do graphic design and preferably juggle chainsaws. And can you find someone with a PhD in Astrophysics while you’re at it?”
And don’t get me started on the feedback. “We need someone more dynamic,” they say. Translation: they want someone who can leap tall buildings in a single bound while reciting Shakespeare. “We want a go-getter!” Translation: they want someone who can perform miracles on a shoestring budget. “We need a team player.” Translation: they want someone who will work 80 hours a week and thank them for the privilege.
The truth is, clients have an uncanny ability to believe in their own infallibility. They demand the impossible, expect immediate results, and then vanish into thin air, only to reemerge with even more absurd expectations. And we, the humble recruiters, are left to pick up the pieces, trying to make sense of their ever-changing whims.
So here’s to the clients, the dreamers of impossible dreams, the purveyors of unrealistic expectations. May you never change, for without you, our jobs might actually become reasonable, and where’s the fun in that? Cheers to the chaos, the confusion, and the never-ending circus that is working with clients in the recruitment industry.
The Candidate Carousel: Spinning in Circles of Futility
If clients are the bane of our existence, candidates are the jesters. They ghost us more than a haunted house on Halloween, disappearing just when we think we’ve finally caught a break. One minute, they’re all in, the next, they’ve vanished into thin air, leaving us to ponder if we’ve been communicating with a phantom.
Then there are the flake artists. They flake on interviews like it’s an Olympic sport, with no-shows becoming a weekly occurrence. Forgetting to update their resumes is another classic move. We get documents that list skills from the early 2000s, making us wonder if they’ve been in a time warp. And somehow, despite their glowing self-recommendations, they always manage to fail the background checks. It’s a mystery how “Proficient in Excel” translates to “once opened Excel in high school.”
And let’s not even talk about the resume fabricators. They’ve lied more on their resumes than politicians during an election year. We’ve seen claims that would make Pinocchio blush. “Fluent in Mandarin” apparently means “watched a couple of Kung Fu movies with subtitles.” It’s like they’re auditioning for a role in a fantasy film rather than a serious job position.
Just when you think you’ve found the one—the perfect candidate who checks all the boxes and might just save you from another night of insomnia—they get a counteroffer from their current job. Or, they decide to start a goat farm in the Alps. Yes, a goat farm. Because why wouldn’t someone trade a promising corporate career for the allure of alpine livestock?
The Commission Conundrum: Penny Pinching for Professionals
Let’s not forget about the commission structure – a beautifully orchestrated scam that would make Ponzi himself blush. We’re promised the world, but in reality, we’re chasing pennies. The targets are as realistic as a low-carb donut, and the constant dangling of the “big bonus” is just another form of corporate gaslighting.
Every quarter, it’s the same old story: “Just close one more deal and you’ll hit your target!” It’s the professional equivalent of “the cheque is in the mail.” We hustle, we grind, we sell our souls, all for that elusive pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. Except, when we finally get there, we discover it’s just a pot of IOUs.
The commission system is designed to keep us perpetually hungry, like hamsters on a wheel, sprinting for that one final deal that will push us over the edge into bonus territory. But by the time the fiscal year ends, we’re left wondering if we’d have been better off selling hot dogs at a baseball game. At least there, the mustard is free, and the customers only ghost you after they’ve had their fill.
Our bosses assure us that next quarter will be different. “This time, the targets are totally achievable,” they say, with all the sincerity of a used car salesman. But we know better. We’ve been down this road before, and it’s paved with broken promises and shattered dreams.
The cherry on top? The fine print in our contracts. Hidden clauses and caveats ensure that even if we do manage to hit our targets, there’s always some reason why the full bonus can’t be paid out. “Oh, you didn’t account for the market adjustment factor? Sorry, that’s a 50% deduction.” It’s like being told you’ve won the lottery, only to find out you have to share your winnings with everyone in the town.
So, dear recruitment industry, this is goodbye. No more late nights tweaking job postings into poetic masterpieces that no one will read. No more swallowing my pride as clients nitpick candidates like they're selecting fine wine. And no more chasing after phantom bonuses that are about as real as a leprechaun’s pot of gold. I’m moving on to greener pastures, where “dynamic” means breathing and “perfect fit” is a pair of comfortable shoes.
To my fellow recruiters still stuck in this nightmarish loop, I wish you luck. You’re going to need it. May your clients gain a miraculous sense of realism, and your candidates develop the magical ability to show up to interviews. As for me, I’m off to find a job that doesn’t make me want to bang my head against the wall every day—a place where the biggest challenge is deciding which brand of coffee to drink.
So long, and thanks for all the fish. It’s been a ride, but it’s time to step off this crazy carousel.
Yours never again,
A Former Recruiter.