Recruiters 15

My latest encounter with a recruiter—one of those initial “phone screenings” (with follow-up) left me ready to spit nails and wondering where I can purchase an M40A1. It’s taken me several days to calm down enough to even write about it without drop kicking the laptop across the room.

I’d replied to a listing for a product marketing manager (PMM) the second week of March. The posting was for a plain, non-specific PMM for a good-sized enterprise software company with a lot of product lines. This corporation makes a big deal about being on various “Best Place to Work” lists.

Last Wednesday a recruiter for the company emailed me, misspelling my first name and thanking me for my interest in “the Product Marketing Manager, Public Sector position”. Well, this was the first time the public sector vertical was mentioned—it certainly wasn’t on their job posting. I’m not particularly wild about PS, but the job description she attached seemed to be focused on the healthcare industry, and I have some experience marketing into it, so I set up the phone call on Thursday.

In the first place, the Recruiting Chick was nine minutes late calling for what was scheduled to be a half-hour call. And she gave no sorry-I-was-in-labor-longer-than-expected reason for her tardiness. She did preface the discussion by saying that, since the company is in the process of an acquisition announced earlier this month, “the hiring process may be slower than normal.” Seems they want to know more about how the two companies are coming together before actually, you know, hiring anyone.

Ah, since companies’ “normal” hiring process can often take months, I asked for clarification. What I got was a lot of fluff to the effect that they don’t really know, some positions are higher priority than others, etc. I pressed and discovered that this PS-PMM opening is low on the urgency scale. In fact, they “hope to know by April 15 whether we can move ahead on hiring any of these.”

Well, on to the screening. Her first question was about my education: “You went to…Scripps College…and the…College of William & Mary?” Like they were bizarre institutions she’d never heard of and didn’t want to get too close to, even verbally.

And from the very beginning of my CV she hopped straight over 20 years to the end. “And what’s your situation now about taking a new job?” Now, that’s a segue and a half, even for a recruiter. But, what the hell—she had missed about a third of the call time; we had to catch up.

But when I gave her the story of how I got to the Bay Area, it appears that she didn’t care about that; she wanted to know what compensation I had at my last job. I told her that wasn’t relevant—different job, different market. Well, what are my expectations? I can’t give her a meaningful figure without knowing more about the actual job—perhaps she could give me the range they’ve set for it?

Uh—she didn’t know what the range was.

Really? That’s a new one on me; that the recruiter doesn’t know what’s been budgeted for a position.

She kept pushing and I kept pushing back, but eventually she was starting to flounce and get pouty. So I asked, “Are you saying that if I don’t give you my previous salary information, you won’t consider my qualifications?”

“Well, we have to know that, because I can’t put you forward to the hiring manager without it.” She assured me that they have the means of computing market differentials , and can adjust for different job responsibilities, etc.

So I figured that the lesser of the evils was to give her approximately what I was getting at my last job, as product manager, in Seattle—all of which is completely irrelevant to a PMM job in the Silicon Valley. Once she had that, she chirped, “And what are your expectations?”

I told her I’d given her the information she demanded and that was it. She pushed—really, they need to know what I’m looking for, it’s crucial. I asked why she couldn’t find out their range and get back to me with that information. Well, any range they might have would be very wide—so much so that it wouldn’t be any help. Like a $50K delta. I told her that any range I could give her would also be so wide as to be meaningless. And we went back and forth on it.

She couldn’t see how loopy she was presenting—doesn’t have the salary figures, can’t even give me a range; all the information is meant to be unidirectional—from me to her.

She also told me she didn’t understand why I didn’t want to give her a range.

By that time we’d chewed up another ten minutes of the call. But she then proceeded to spend another six minutes assuring me that her company is going to completely fair to me, that they’re not going to use my salary information “to screw you” (her actual words). That if I’d made $50K before but they’d slated the position for $150 (I’m rephrasing), they wouldn’t then offer me $55K.

Well, if that’s the case, what was the freaking point in strong-arming me for that data point? If my candidacy couldn’t move forward until they have that, then of course they’re going to use it to frame any offer.

Then more assurances that her aim is to “develop a relationship of mutual trust” with me, which frankly made me almost projectile-vomit. If she’s sincere about that, then she’s going about it all wrong. Her claim of ignorance about the salary range, coupled with the forcible extraction of previous compensation inspired not the least iota of trust in me. Or, for that matter, any confidence in her professionalism. She’s either a liar, really, really ignorant, or the entire company can’t communicate for crap.

Well, that was pretty much it, since we’d run over schedule; 24 minutes total, and only one single piece of information exchanged. In all my encounters with recruiters I have never come across this kind of trouble. Every time I’ve deflected the what-are-you-looking-for question by asking for a range, I’ve got it. Even from the Indian recruiters for contract jobs. And I cannot describe to you how much she pissed me off.

But wait—there’s more.

Friday midday I received this email from the Recruiting Chick:

“I know we didn’t really talk about this over the phone but I want to make sure that you are interested in a Public Sector role and not a healthcare position? This role is specifically for Public sector and I want to be sure this is an area of interest for you.”

Yeah—we didn’t really get to talk about it, since more than 2/3 of our time was spent with her being late to call and her demanding information that’s completely pointless.

I waited an hour to cool down, and then sent her this reply:

“It may be worth more detailed discussion of what you mean by differentiating between public sector and healthcare: the job description you sent me singles out healthcare specifically several times in both the essential responsibilities and requirements sections. It’s the only public sector vertical mentioned. Is this not an accurate description of what you want in this role?

“If not, I welcome any clarification you can provide.”

Because, folks, that’s the truth. The posted job description didn’t mention public sector at all; and the one she sent me singled out healthcare and no other vertical.

And here’s her reply:

“I know the job description isn’t quite on target for what we actually need but it is similar. Here is what we are looking for:

“5 to 7 years of experience

“Someone who can get in front of customers

“Able to create collateral where you can build a program to launch

“Ability to build a business plan and carry it out

“Work with cross functional teams

“This is a worldwide solutions position.

“[XX] (hiring manager) can provide more insight as well.

“I will set up a call with you both to chat.”

Here’s a thought: typically when you’re trying to clarify what the responsibilities are, you get more, you know, specific. Not increasingly vague.

But we’re not done yet.

At 1515 someone else, whom I take to be the admin for the hiring manager, sends me this:

“I have you tentatively schedule [sic] for a phone interview on Monday, March 28 at 9am. This is for the Product Marketing Manager position reporting to X. X will call you at ### ###-####, if you prefer a different number, please let me know and I will update your information.”

Again—I’m apparently supposed to adapt my life to this company’s whim. I replied that 0900 wouldn’t work but I could do a call between 1330 and 1700. We’re now on for 1330.

As this progresses I increasingly wonder how this company could be such an allegedly great place to work. If they’re so intractable during the recruiting process—a time when they’re presumably trying to give you good impressions—then what the hell are they like after they’ve got you on the hook?

(Apologies for the length of this rant. But there actually are places where you can pick up sniper equipment around here and, while I don’t think there’s a jury in the country that would convict on the homicide charge, I don’t fancy the legal expenses. Besides—dealing with lawyers has to be as bad as dealing with recruiters.)