Ghosted in the Hiring Machine

An organization’s hiring process says volumes about its culture and governance. It shows very clearly what is valued and tolerated. The Great Resignation is real. More than ever, talent is in demand and wielding power. That’s making companies reassess the hiring process and how they treat people. Smart companies are starting to give their hiring philosophies and processes attention, understanding that in its simplest form, hiring is the most important marketing campaign a company undertakes.

Until now, improvements to the hiring process haven’t been discussed much on a global level. Everyone seems to know it’s lacking at most companies, but things rarely get better. At its worst, the hiring process can be characterized by toxicity, discrimination and disrespect. At its best, going through the ropes means candidates are treated with a lack of civility ?-- if they’re even communicated with at all.

Furthermore, there is an unwritten rule in hiring: candidate silence. Candidates usually don’t hold hiring companies accountable for bad behavior for fear of retaliation. For me, my adherence to that rule ends today. I won’t reward bad behavior with my silence. My recent experience with the Center for Creative Leadership (CCL) is a good example of how not to run a process and treat female candidates.

Several months ago, I learned that CCL was searching for its next CEO. I saw a listing on a private networking job board I trust. I wasn’t looking to change jobs, but the role really spoke to me for two reasons.

First, I’m exceedingly curious about what I call the new leadership paradigm emerging in the workplace today. It’s a drastic departure from the old command-and-control way of leading people. It’s human-centric and based on high emotional intelligence and adaptability. There are thousands of organizations that offer leadership development services, but most are tethered to the old paradigm. I believed there was a real opportunity for CCL to distinguish and position itself in a cluttered field that often espouses the old ethos.

I was also interested in the role because of my personal experience with CCL. About a decade ago, I participated in the Betsy Magness Leadership Institute, a prestigious development program for executive women in the television industry. The program was run in conjunction with CCL. That program was a game changer for me. I often credit it with launching my journey to the C-suite. It made me a better leader and a more thoughtful human. In my eyes, CCL's brand was exceptional.

So, with my personal mission well in hand, I applied for the CEO role. I got an email response from the chief human resources officer (CHRO) within a few weeks. We set up a time to talk. During that time, he outlined the process for me which, on the surface, seemed very thoughtful and efficient. I appreciated that and said so.

The CHRO explained that the process would kick-off with a series of interviews on the Spark Hire platform. Spark Hire is a one-way video interview platform that allows employers to pose questions to candidates. I thought it was a little odd to have CEO-level candidates do this because of the time commitment it required, but I kept an open mind. I’m a fan of any technology that makes the hiring process more efficient.

A few days later, I got the link to the Spark interview invite. I set aside some time and recorded my answers. I’m a recovering perfectionist, so it took about two hours until I was satisfied with my video answers. The questions asked were weighty and strategic as one might expect for a CEO role. But candidates were only allotted two minutes to answer each question. Confining thoughtful answers to those two minutes was challenging, but I accepted it as part of the process and made it happen.

Imagine my dismay when I received an automated invite from Spark Hire a few days later, asking me to rerecord my answers. Two hours is a giant chunk of time for anyone but especially a CEO so early in a hiring process.

I called the CHRO to see if I really had to redo my one-way interview. He verified that I did. He admitted that he had incorrectly set the time parameters for answers on the first go-round, and they were now set to an appropriate length to allow for proper responses. In that conversation, he gave me high marks for my first round of answers but emphasized that I should definitely rerecord my answers and take advantage of the expanded timeframes.

At this point, you’re probably wondering why I continued in the process. While preparing for my video interview, I’d spent a lot of time studying CCL’s tax filings. They’re a mission-driven non-profit, so obviously the profitability goals aren’t the same as a for-profit business. However, even non-profits are beholden to performance targets. The best ones apply some of the strategies and tactics of a well-run business organization.

I saw a lot of opportunity in CCL’s tax filings. As I delved into the detail, I saw a bloated cost structure led by a CEO whose annual take was just south of $900,000 in 2020 – a very high figure for an $109 million tax-exempt enterprise. I saw an opportunity to make more revenue and reduce the cost base with more relevant and enhanced digital offerings.

While this role hadn’t been positioned as a turnaround, the numbers and many of the employee reviews on Glassdoor told a different tale. I’m a turnaround CEO and a change agent. Things that often turn other people away energize me. This looked like the sort of challenge I wanted to take on. So, I stayed in the process, set aside another two hours and rerecorded my video interview.

A few weeks later, I was notified that I had made it to the next round. I was asked to meet with a Greensboro-based executive recruiter who was vetting candidates for the board’s search committee. I set-up a 90-minute meeting with the recruiter. Again, it was a significant amount of time for the exploratory phase of a CEO search. I was also put off that the recruiter wasn’t terribly responsive, as I had to goad him to confirm the meeting. This was especially troubling, as the recruiter was also the owner of the company.

Five minutes into our conversation, it became apparent that this man was of a certain era, one where women do not lead or even work outside the home. I lived in the south for 11 years. I thoroughly understand the prevailing ethos of some men in that regional culture.

The recruiter started our conversation by noting my background in private equity. He mentioned that he had many private equity clients and proceeded to mansplain the world of private equity to me. He was full of antebellum bluster, and I was his captive audience of one. We were off to a dynamite start. I suppressed my astonishment and did a lot of polite listening, like when you were a kid and your grandfather used to tell you long-winded stories about the old days.

Then, he asked me about my successful exit in my first role as a CEO for a $100 million private equity-backed company. I was able to sell the company within a little over three years of taking the helm. It was a solid accomplishment for any CEO but especially a first-timer at a company that had experienced a failed exit before I took over. He then asked me about my payout related to the sale. As things go in that segment, I received healthy compensation as a reward for the successful sale. He responded by saying "how lucky I was to have experienced that" and "how grateful I must be."

Now, in and of itself, that statement isn’t offensive. I’m a big believer in luck and how it favors the prepared. I’m also a very grateful soul who’s thankful every day for the opportunities I’ve had and the incredible people who have helped me. But given the recruiter’s already out-of-touch tone, I was offended at the implication that I had just stumbled into success.

There is a fair amount of skill and work involved in every success story. That’s true for me too. Leading a company through a successful sale process is challenging for any CEO. I had to wonder if a male candidate with the same story would be labeled as “lucky.”

The out-of-touch recruiter then probed about my family's willingness to relocate to Greensboro, North Carolina. He'd assumed I was married with kids. I'm married and do not have children.

I explained that I would acquire a residence in Greensboro for Monday through Friday and any weekends needed, but my husband would be staying on our farm in New Hampshire. I had successfully worked in similar arrangements in my stints as CEO of several private equity-backed companies, and I talked about that. I spent my weekdays in-market and my weekends back home. I had already expressed this plan to the CHRO, and he didn’t indicate any issues with it.

At any rate, I’m the sort of CEO who travels extensively. You won’t find me sitting in my office for days on end. In 2019, I logged almost 400,000 air miles visiting employees, clients and doing deals.

The recruiter didn’t like that answer. He explained how I would need to show up to local community events like the upcoming Wicked premiere “with my husband on my arm” as an ambassador for CCL. I found the comment odd, dated and sexist. I assured him that I’d be happy to attend community events – without my husband, a grown man who has his own identity and endeavors.

He then challenged my desire to run a non-profit like CCL. He presumed that my past involvement with private equity meant that I was a greedy, profit-first CEO. The implication was that I was lacking in a moral compass and all about the money. Side note: as a CEO in private equity, I rightfully made nowhere near what the current CCL CEO makes in annual compensation. I digress.

I calmly explained my firm belief that profit and purpose do not have to be at odds. Plus, not all private equity firms are lacking in integrity. I pointed to my first private equity sponsors as examples of people who pursue profit and purpose. He kept pushing, refusing to accept my commitment to running a mission-driven enterprise. We’d move to another topic, and he kept circling back to this one.

Let me be clear: his aggressiveness in itself did not offend or intimidate me. Being skilled at holding up to scrutiny is part of a CEO’s job. I’m not easily rattled. I was offended by the line of questioning for a non-profit. I was offended that this man clearly didn’t believe purpose and performance could exist together. It was clear to me he was looking for any excuse to say no to an uppity woman. He could have saved us both time and said, “Not you, sweetheart.”

All and all, I spent almost two hours of time with this man, going through my resume in excruciating detail for a CEO role. I’m not convinced the recruiter knows what a CEO actually does based on his facile line of questioning. I'm not even clear on why he was part of the process except perhaps to check a box for one of his cronies on the board of governors.

After hanging up the phone, I immediately called the CHRO at CCL and told him about my dismay at the conversation with the recruiter. I believed he needed to know that the executive recruiter was a poor representative for CCL – especially for female candidates. I presumed I was not the only female in the mix in the year 2021.

I knew full well that I would probably be dropped from the process for speaking out, but I believed CCL needed to know their brand was being tarnished by this blowhard. At that time, I was thanked for the feedback, assured I was still a top contender and told I would be contacted within two weeks.

Two weeks came and went. I checked in via email. Once again, I was assured I was one of “six qualified top candidates.” I was promised I’d hear more details on next steps around Thanksgiving.

Thanksgiving came and went with no word on my candidacy. CCL ghosted me. I wasn’t surprised. To this day, I haven’t been contacted about the status of the role or my candidacy. I've not seen any announcements about who the new CEO is. That silence and languishing process says volumes about the organization.

I’m not saying I was the best candidate. Hiring is a competition, and I don’t always land on top. I give it my best effort because that’s the only part of the equation I control. I do believe that I deserved the proper interview I was promised. At a very minimum, as one of six finalists, I deserved the courtesy of an email telling me to pound sand.?

Every experience is an opportunity to learn. In this experience, I learned that I will no longer tolerate sexism and shenanigans from the good ‘ol boys network, and I won’t allow narcissists and dilettantes to waste my time. These sorts of behaviors make us all a little smaller, and they make organizations weaker.

Undoubtedly, there will be recruiters and hiring companies who will shun me for speaking out. I’ll be characterized as a loose cannon. It’s those companies’ and recruiters’ prerogatives to run their businesses like it’s the 1950’s. I refuse to play that game.

My goal in documenting my experience is simple. I want to lift the veil of silence around negative hiring processes. These processes hurt candidates and companies. The more we talk about our experiences (good and bad), the more likely we are to make civil and respectful hiring practices a competitive advantage.

In my case, my experience could have been improved with a little honesty, less languishing, better communication and removing the off-base recruiter from the process.

As for CCL, it’s clear I wouldn’t want to work there. The toxicity shown in their sexist, disrespectful and amateurish hiring process told me all I needed to know about the organization and its board of governors.

As for me, I’m starting my own leadership coaching business with a more current and humanist approach at its center. The vision I crafted in the CCL recruiting process was not wasted. I now understand that organization in its current form couldn’t have achieved my more relevant, contemporary vision. They have the wrong leadership and culture to pull it off authentically.

I’m hoping that their new CEO is a catalyst for positive change, but I’m inclined to think he will be more of the same. For the sake of CCL’s 2,000 talented employees and affiliates, I hope I’m wrong.

Epilogue

On a recent LinkedIn post about red flags in the hiring process, I commented about some of the hallmarks of my toxic experience with CCL. In the comments, I tagged CCL and their outgoing CEO John Ryan. I received the following response from whomever manages CCL’s social media account:

“Thank you for bringing this to our attention, Denise. We take your feedback seriously. The Center for Creative Leadership will contact you directly to make sure we learn from this situation.”

My reply:

“Thanks to whomever runs social media for posting this. I do appreciate your acknowledgement. Please be advised, at this point, the only person I’m willing to speak with from CCL is Cutler Dawson, Chairman of CCL’s Board of Governors and head of the CEO search committee.

?To no one’s surprise, I’ve not been contacted by anyone at CCL.