Job Interviews

There may be a lot on your mind when you front up for a job interview, but if you can analyse the people sitting around the table you might walk away with some quality information about the people you could be working for. Try to read the people on the panel. Analyse their mood. Watch how they interact with you and with each other. These people may work together and enjoy each other’s company, or they might hate each other’s guts. Look out for their body language, what they say, and how they say it. If they give anything away it may clarify your decision on whether you want to work there. Anyway, I’ve had some interesting experiences from both sides of the table.

I was at a Queensland university for a job interview a few years back, and on this occasion there must have been about eight or nine people siting around the table. That’s a lot of people for a middle-ranking job. One of the questions I was asked related to Executive Information Systems. I had a good idea of what this was about, having developed a very basic EIS myself. I also had a reasonable knowledge of these systems by talking to other people, who actually knew a lot about them. From what I could gather some were very good for specific purposes, but tended to be restrictive. Anyway, before I digress too much, back to the interview. I was asked a question along the lines of, “What do you know of Executive Information Systems?” There seemed to be an emphasis which raised my heckles: “What do you know of…” it seemed to me. I explained my background in what I thought was a more than adequate response, and felt an overwhelming desire to direct the same question to the person who asked it of me. His response was along the lines of, “I don’t really know, I was just asked to ask the question.” That’s not a bright thing to say, even if it is true. There is a moral here. Don’t engage anyone in dialogue unless you know something of the subject. There wasn’t a solitary person on the panel that I could relate to. They were all thoroughly unlikeable, and that might have come through in my interaction with them. If you don’t click with the people at the interview, you may be dropping yourself in trouble if you actually get the job. So, I didn’t particularly care if I offended anyone.

Another interview I went to was with an agency associated with a government department. A very laid back group of people were sitting in easy chairs around a large low coffee table. It was difficult to know who was chairing the panel; that may have been intentional. I was offered a coffee at the start of the interview, which was very social. They then proceeded to ask dumb questions. The coffee was piping hot, and I could barely drink it. It would have been better had there been somewhere to put it, but here I was juggling it on its saucer, on my lap, amidst the pile of papers I had. Could this have been a test? Moral: always refuse hot drinks; ask for water, if they offer you anything. And the dumbest of questions related to some legislation. One of them asked, “What can you tell us about sub-section 32 of the…(something or other) Act?” What? I was struck dumb. Were they kidding? Had I been more experienced I should have told this guy to pull his head in, but you don’t say that sort of thing at a job interview, particularly if you are inexperienced. You want the job, after all. More than likely this was the question that the person who had been lined up for the job had been made aware of. There was certainly nothing in the job ad that related to anything like that.

I once worked in a small statistics section with a staff of six. One of the staff members had resigned and their position was advertised. The appointment was for assistant to one of my co-workers, and I was asked to join the interview panel. The panel consisted of my colleague, my boss, and me. This was my first experience on an interview panel. I was keen to study every application and derive the short list carefully. I had to smile to myself when I was at one of the Sarina Russo training sessions, and was advised that employers spend only a few seconds scanning the cover page of an application with little more time on the CV.

There were quite a variety of applications. One that comes to mind was a very long letter from someone who described their work history in much more detail than was required, which was interwoven by their life experiences. It was almost a plea. He was selected for interview by my boss, possibly out of curiosity rather than anything, but he failed to turn up. The letter certainly caught our attention but left us wary as to whether he would have been suitable. Don’t write your life story in an application.

This particular position would have required more than basic IT skills, and we had quite a number of people apply who had masters or doctorate degrees. A stance we felt in regard to these applicants was that these people could no doubt cope with the job, but they would see the position as an interim one, possibly they would be bored, and would soon move on. After all, they were over qualified for the job. These applicants were generally discounted for that reason. This was wrong, and I feel sorry for being party to it. If you are more qualified for a job that you are considering, please consider this scenario, and consider writing your application in a less intimidating manner. It’s a difficult one, because you have no idea of who will be reading your application: skilled interviewers, or people like us.

We interviewed about seven candidates. I have to admit being engineer of a post-interview test. At the conclusion of the interview each candidate was given a list of questions. It was a pen and paper test. I had listed all the commands taken directly from the SPSS user manual table of contents. I asked the candidates to write a brief description of what each command meant. No one was expected to know them all. But it was surprising the number of people who claimed expertise in SPSS but could barely respond to any of them. There is nothing wrong with bolstering your experience in you application, but if you lie you might be caught out. Be careful.

There was a young woman who applied internally and was selected for interview. She provided a good application, interviewed well, performed well in the final SPSS test, and her referees spoke glowingly of her. She was definitely a prime candidate for the job, and I offered my opinion as such. However, an issue arose. The issue that eventually saw her being passed over was that she might have outshone her supervisor. I feel saddened that this individual’s chance slipped away due to her would-be supervisor worrying about feeling intimidated by her. There’s not much to be done about this, and I doubt if there is any real solution. All I’m doing here is alerting you to some of the issues in that hope that you will be better armed to deal with the interview experience. And of course the moral here is that if you are unsuccessful in wining the job you felt you should have got don’t be too disappointed as it may not have been your fault.

After brooding on this experience for a while it led me to become more assertive in stating my viewpoint in the few other occasions I’ve been on interview panels. The person we hired did an adequate job, but the other young woman could have been outstanding. I reconcile the experience by recalling that this particular place was one of the more troublesome environments in which I’ve ever worked, and perhaps her missing out on the job was a good thing for her.

Sarina Russo Job Access

After being registered with Centrelink while on unemployment benefit for a certain period of time you get sent along to an employment agency. It turned out you can choose from a variety of agencies that Centrelink deal with, which was kind of nice, but I didn’t know anything about any of them. So, for no better reason than that Sarina Russo was located in the same building as the Centrelink office at Ringwood, I chose them. I now believe my choice was a mistake, and I should have gone elsewhere.

The staff at Sarina Russo were very welcoming, and I wanted to take advantage of anything they could offer. I soon learnt that my time spent there was largely a waste of time. They provided little help, and I felt that the organisation was staffed by people of limited experience, or at best narrow experience. I continued to attend only because if I didn’t show up they would report my absence to Centrelink, risking my dole being cut. I eventually left when I got a job. My time spent with them was a relatively negative experience, leaving me feeling that other organisations were more obliging. The job that I eventually got was procured by using my own methods and my own application style and writing skills. The Sarina Russo organisation contributed nothing to assist me getting work.

Their office had computer facilities to assist clients find work. This would have been a great service if you didn’t have your own computer, but if you have better facilities at home, and have to spend time hanging around their office because other people were using the computers you tend to get a bit frustrated and annoyed. There were several training sessions, which may have been good if you weren’t sure (ie. didn’t have a clue) of how to apply for a job. I found the training sessions lacking, and there was little attempt to cater for people who wanted to improve their skills. There was some attempt: They ran a seminar with guest speakers, who were actually very good value. They also employed a consultant who purported to assess your interview technique – sounded good, but was a dead loss. Those were the only positive moments I recall.

The training pushed the idea that job applications should be written on one page, followed by your CV. That was basically it. Nothing else. They had a very closed idea of what an application should look like, and how employers deal with applications. They also pressed upon us the need to apply for a certain number of jobs every time we came into the office, and I think it was five jobs, if I recall correctly. The staff trainer I had, had never heard of selection criteria in a job application. That’s astonishing. Almost all the positions I have applied for in the last 15 years have had between 5 and 7 statements in the selection criteria. Responses to these items have to be worded carefully, and an application you care about can take several days to prepare; often more. The idea of applying for several jobs per day is not possible.

There came a point when my household income began to rise. I was still looking for a job, but because there was now money coming in Centrelink stopped my payments. I had still been going to Sarina Russo regularly, and as I had reached the point when one of their staff members had been assigned to me for personal assistance, I was happy to work in this arrangement as I definitely wanted a job, and I wanted to see where this service led. It didn’t lead anywhere. When Sarina Russo realised I was not being supported by Centrelink they refused to provide the personal service.

Given my new situation, I asked if I could continue to use the facilities like the photocopier, printer etc. but they denied my access to all services. As it happened there was a different employment agency a short distance down the street. The opposition. I stepped into the building, and explained my experience with Sarina Russo. The rep was surprised by this behaviour, and offered the use of their facilities (ie. computers, photocopying), despite me not being registered with them.

The Sarina Russo staff didn’t say, but you can guess, that they dumped me because this became a funding issue. Their government funding would have stopped with respect to services provided to me. They weren’t about to provide a service to anyone who wasn’t being funded. I wasn’t an income earner to them and they dropped me like a hot potato. I think that’s it in a nutshell. Sarina Russo are not particularly interested in assisting anyone get a job. If they do manage to find someone work, then that would probably be okay, but their prime purpose in this world for Sarina Russo is to generate income by keeping the government coffers flowing.

Job Applications – Selection Criteria

Don’t you hate applying for jobs?

Let me rephrase that. Job applications are just fine when you can present you skills and experiences for a position you think might suit you down to the ground. The prospect can fill you with excitement and anticipation of working with your dream organisation, maybe in a great position, and with a marvellous salary to boot. But when you’ve mailed your hundredth application addressing selection criteria that have been poorly worded the letter writing experience takes on an entirely different perspective. Here’s an experience from the other side of the table that relates to selection criteria.

I was working in the state government, and the section in which I worked was in the process of recruiting a new staff member. I wasn’t involved initially, but I was interested, because whoever was employed would be serving in a backup roll to me. I wasn’t involved in the selection process from the start, but was drawn into it. I didn’t see all the applications, nor was I involved in short listing applicants, but I was asked if I would be able to sit on the interview panel. Sure I said, and a small bundle of applications came my way. I spent some time studying the applications, and pretty soon the day of interviews was upon us. It was at that point my supervisor, who was also on the panel, appeared to be in some obvious turmoil.

The position was not an IT position in the conventional sense, as you might envisage the duties of a computer programmer or analyst, but it was certainly an IT related job. The job was described locally as a ‘data’ position in so far as the successful candidate would be working with data, spreadsheets, and databases. It was more of a technical position with some administrative work. And the reason for my supervisor’s agitation was that the selection criteria included a statement on candidates’ policy experience.

The inclusion of a policy component in selection criteria with the public service is a common enough criterion, but this particular position had no policy responsibilities. None at all. The dilemma my supervisor now wished to share with the other two panel members was what sort of policy question we might devise for the interview. My solution at the time was rejected: Just drop the question, I suggested, but no, that was out of the question. My supervisor’s dilemma was that the interview questions had to match the selection criteria. For every item listed on the selection criteria, there had to be a relevant interview question.

So there we were, the three of us, trying to rack our brains to formulate an interview question which enquired into candidates’ policy experience when the job had no policy component. Is this not dumb? You wonder how the recruitment process could have got to the job ad stage, and someone had to write the selection criteria, and after all that, the problem was only noticed the day before interviews were due to take place. So much for the well oiled wheels of big government. I squirmed inwardly when the policy question was put to each of the candidates.

Postscript

• I wonder how much time applicants had wasted writing a section on policy in their application, that was never acknowledged.
• I wonder how many potentially good applicants didn’t apply because they had no policy experience.
• In hindsight, it’s easy to imagine how this occurred. It was probably a cut and paste job that went wrong; probably from some other position that was assumed to be similar.
• And the moral of this story: If you don’t fit all the criteria: don’t worry, apply anyway.
• There are other lessons, and if the cap fits, wear it.

Centrelink

I spotted a job ad in the newspaper a few weeks ago. It was from Centrelink. The ad has been playing on my mind since then. I can’t recall the job title exactly, but they were advertising to fill a position in their organisation to investigate fraud. On the face of it, no decent, law-abiding citizen would object to such a notion. A minute later the penny dropped: Centrelink wanted some help in detecting individuals who were claiming more than they should have. I expect they wanted to recoup payments made to single parents if, for example, they had a cash windfall that week (ie. casual work they hadn’t declared), or students who had to change their enrolment and were no longer eligible for austudy payments. To me, that’s not so much fraud as people just trying to get by on the little they have. It’s difficult enough trying to live on the edge, when you are just making ends meet, and then Centrelink employs fraud investigators to check up on you. Yes, I know there are real fraudsters out there, but Centrelink does spend needless effort checking and haranguing honest people and not actually helping them.

Why does the government spend such an effort trying to save a few dollars like this and then drops millions in the drink on other projects. Today the Australian Government announced it had allocated $2.9 million to search for the HMAS Sydney, which sank off the WA coast in 1941. I find it difficult to reconcile government policy that will prosecute people who are struggling and might stretch the truth on their dole form, and the spending of millions of dollars searching for rusty metal at the bottom of the sea. And this funding is in addition to the $1.3 million that has already been allocated toward the search.

Anyway, let me continue. I was unemployed not so long ago, was keen to get back into work, and to help me get by I registered with Centrelink. I tried to adopt a receptive and co-operative attitude, but there is something within that organisation that kicks you in the guts. Of course, my experience with Centrelink was only with unemployment benefit. It’s possible that the recipients of the range of other benefits that Centrelink provides may well have a pleasant experience. I don’t know. I can only refer to my own experience, and it was none too agreeable.

From my first encounter with Centrelink, which involved a ‘seminar’ through to the dreary fortnightly queue in which you have to hand deliver your claim form in order to receive your benefit, the memory of the experience almost makes me shudder. To anyone currently going through this, you have my heartfelt commiserations.

The ‘seminar’ established a them-and-us attitude, that I suspect did more to alienate people than welcome us into a support network. The seminar included the screening of a video which emphasized the consequences of cheating the system, rather than providing a caring environment. Okay, I’m an optimist, but Centrelink was going flat out to turn me against them. The presenter was patronizing, dictatorial, and showed his disdain for the people present. I found the emphasis by the staffer presenting the ‘seminar’ that the benefit was provided by taxpayers and we should be grateful. That’s offensive. My immediate thought at the time, given the age of the staffer, and my own age and years in the workforce, was that I probably had more tax deducted from my salary during my working life than this guy had actually earned as salary in his lifetime. Unemployment benefit is not a gift or simply a handout; it’s a right, and there should be no guilt felt in taking it.

I can empathize with the staff, to some extent. Running these ‘seminars’ must be boring for the staff; the same thing week in week out. And the staff working at the front desk faced with such a variety of emotions from the people making claims must be mind-numbing. Centrelink, you do have an attitude problem. Perhaps you should review your staffing policies. Or do you select your staff to behave the way they do? Thankfully, there are a few decent people there, but too few in my experience.

Who remembers the CES?

A couple of early experiences with the Commonwealth Employment Service.

There was an ad in my local CES office: Australia Post drivers were required. Now there was an idea, I thought. Curious about this I wanted to find out the salary. So, in nothing more than a casual enquiry of the desk clerk, “What does the job pay?” I was asked to fill in a form, and got no answer to my question. Several months later I received a letter from Australia Post asking me to attend a driving test. I still didn’t know the salary, but I was only half interested in the job. So, I went along for fun. I failed the driving test as it happened, and no one ever told me what the salary was. My goof on the driving test resulted because I failed to obey a street sign. My examiner directed my to pull over to the side of the road. I thought he was checking to see if I could stop without hitting the kerb, but I failed to notice that that section of the road had a no standing sign displayed. I missed that. I was just following his direction. Of course, van drivers will never stop at no standing areas of the road. Oh no, that just doesn’t happen in real life. What a joke.

I had heard that Simpson & Pope was hiring staff at one of their factories. I called at the factory employment office and was advised that the local CES was managing the recruitment. So, I called into the nearby CES office, and after the long wait in the queue was asked, “Are you registered here?” Well no, I wasn’t registered at that office as it happened. I was listed with another suburban office. “You’ll have to go to the office where you’re registered,” the clerk said. So, I drove across town to my own office. Another wait in another queue to hear, “Sorry, we don’t handle Simpson & Pope.” So, I drove back exactly to where I was an hour earlier, and joined the queue once more. This time I was faced with another clerk at the desk, and I was ready to unload my frustration at being given a bum steer, but instead he just gave me a slip to take to the factory employment office, and I had a job.

Of course the CES doesn’t exist anymore. That was quite a time ago. Now we have Centrelink. Shortly after I finished my degree I got a phone call out of the blue. It was someone from the Professional Employment Service, a branch of the CES as it happened. I had no idea such a branch of the CES existed. Well blow me down. I don’t ever recall registering with them, and here they are asking if they can be of assistance. It was really nice to be fawned over. It was like I had a personal assistant who was going to help me get work. I was quite flattered really. I got my own job as it happened, but it did leave me with a very favourable impression. On the other hand, I don’t really have anything favourable to say about Centrelink. I expect others might be able relate to that.