Q: What do you do when there are questions on an
employment application that really invade your privacy?
Get out
of there as fast as you can, that’s what you do. Unless you’re applying to a
defense contractor or other firm that deals in sensitive information – which,
in this case we’ve determined you’re not – this is outrageous.
Readers,
this question comes from someone with whom I had a most interesting phone call
which – after we hung up and he emailed me the actual application – I decided I
had to tell you about. I was appalled, to put it mildly. Get ready
for this. Among the questions on this application was a section entitled
“family history.” It asked for father’s occupation and employer, mother’s
occupation and employer, and spouse’s name, occupation, employer and length of
time there. Now, if that’s not invasive enough, how about this? It went on to
ask for spouse’s parents’ names, city of residence, occupations and employers.
I was
blown away when I saw this, but left open the possibility that, perhaps, the
world had changed without asking my permission, so I called a few friends of
mine: an HR manager, a recruiter, and a lawyer.
Check.
They were equally surprised. So now, with my reality check, I’m comfortable in
telling you what I felt initially: this is an egregious example of nerve,
arrogance, privacy invasion, and – if anything improper is done with the
information requested – possibly a violation of a law or two. Worse, and just
below the surface of the law, this is potential back-door discrimination just
ready to happen. By the
way (if that’s not enough), further down the application it asks if you
illegally use drugs, if so, what, and if you have ever been a party to the sale
of any illegal drug. Then it asks for last occurrence. Anyone ever hear of our
fifth amendment rights?
There’s
no doubt for the need for caution on the part of an employer, and I’m the first
to endorse that, but this is really thin ice, which brings me back to my
comment about anything improper being done with the information they’re
gathering. My son
just accepted a job – in the public sector, no less – where this kind of
intrusion didn’t even take place during the hiring process. It was only once he
received the written offer letter that he also received a screening package
which requires him to acknowledge that background, driving, credit, and
criminal checks will be done. OK, fine. No problem. Every organization has the
right to be careful in its hiring, and if you’re earnest in your career
development, I’d think you’d actually want to work for a company that does
everything to build a great team.
But what
justifies this reader’s suspicion is that, in my son’s case for example, the cover
letter for the screening package clearly describes how and by whom the
screening would be done, and then specifically stated that if the reports are
satisfactory, that all information will be destroyed. It went on to describe a
further process in the event that negative information arises, and again, how
and by whom it would be handled.
Now
that’s the ethical way this should be done. But remember, none of that came up
until my son’s new employer-to-be made the decision to include him as a member
of the team. There would be no serious attempt to investigate anything about
him until they were sure they were serious about him.
So step
back and ask yourself, would you want to work for people who are this invasive
and so early in the process? Are you that desperate for a job? Are you willing
to give up that much of your sacred privacy just to get a paycheck? Are you
comfortable with that information hanging around without the promise that it
would be destroyed? Would you be comfortable working there at all?
This is,
for those of us who have read George Orwell’s “1984,” or who have lived through
times when it really looked like 1984 was happening, just too scary the way it
invokes the “big brother is watching you” threat. So my
initial advice sticks: unless there is a justifiable reason – like the company
being a defense or government contractor status (which they should clearly
indicate ahead of time) – get out of there as fast as you can. Now, all
that said, let me tell you, dear readers, that that’s exactly what this reader
did. From what I can make of his account to me of the situation, his antennae
went way up when he saw these questions, he stopped, thought about it, and
decided he would not continue. Then – in a highly professional, polite, and
respectful way – he approached the hiring manager (who was waiting for him to
finish) and said that with all due respect he didn’t see how some of this was
relevant [translation: none of your business] and that he wished to be removed
from consideration for the job.
Right on!
And this speaks to so many other issues we’ve discussed in this column, like
age discrimination, sloppy hiring practices, and under-employment. Don’t let
anyone push you around. Don’t let the decision be theirs alone. You have as
much – more, actually – to say about where you work than they do. And in this
case, what you have to say is, “No, thank you.”
[III0311]
In a
takeover, always look out for Number One. By
Eli Amdur
Q: My company is being acquired in a deal that will take
approximately six months to transition and close. I’m with them 17 years and
currently serve as regional VP of marketing. The acquiring company has told us –
through general communications and in one-on-one meetings – that we will
benefit as employees of the new entity, that revenue targets and other
performance objectives would be adjusted to reflect the new company’s market
position while not negatively impacting our compensation, and that “we can look
forward to exciting new challenges.” It sounds good, but I’m starting to get
some signals that the seas may not be as calm as the captain tells us. Do I
stay and wait to see if their promises materialize or do I cast off into the
uncharted waters of a job change? I’d hate to leave and then find out I
shouldn’t have. I need some good solid advice.
Your
instincts are sharp. It doesn’t matter what they say now; the only thing that
matters is what they do sometime in the future – and that remains to be seen. However,
this is not the time for a definitive “fish or cut bait” decision; it would be
premature because of too many possibilities at stake. For instance, promises
and challenges aside, acquiring companies tend to favor their own staff, and
you might lose your value to them after you’ve helped transition or close down
an unprofitable division or complete the reorganization. At that point, it’s “see
ya’ later” so maybe you’d want to preempt that. On the
other hand, the people on the acquisition team of your new employer are far
from dumb, and might very well be ready to offer you (if they haven’t already)
a retention bonus to insure that you’ll be there for as long as they need –
after which all bets might once again be off. And if you think that sounds OK,
I just heard from someone in a similar position who stayed on, got the
retention bonus, was laid off six months later, and then suffered the indignity
of being told that that retention bonus was being counted as part of his
severance package. In other words, severance minus previous retention equals
one slap in the face – hardly enough to laugh, let alone, cry about. That part
of the equation comes down to this. Don’t overestimate your value to the
acquiring company. Don’t fool yourself into thinking that you’re the reason
they made the deal. Don’t let yourself get comfortable despite their
“promises.” Now this
is not to say that none of these promises are ever kept. Indeed many are, but
it’s not until they are that you know they have been. So – more on the
optimistic side – staying on gives you the chance to watch how things develop
and explore your internal options while getting your feelers out elsewhere. Discreetly,
you should contact a good executive recruiter or two. If you’ve been successful
for your current company over 17 years – successful enough for your new company
to want you to stick around for a while – then you’re good enough to attract
the attention of other companies. While you’re hanging on, a good headhunter
can do some serious advance work for you, even on a confidential basis. This is
nothing more than hedging your bets. While
you’re at all this, watch for telltale signs (you already said you were getting
mixed signals). One sign of imminent danger is if you’re being excluded from
key functions and events like critical meetings, email distribution lists,
workshops or seminars, and just plain interpersonal relationships. Another
question you have to ask yourself is whether your job can be combined with a
like job from the other company. This happens all the time with accounting and
finance, IT, and administration. In your case – marketing – does your product
area duplicate theirs? If not, if you are value added or synergistic, then you
might be OK. If so, put your headhunter’s number on speed dial. A
different type of sign altogether, although just as telling, is the type(s) of
assignments you receive. Many takeovers require difficult (sometimes even
unpleasant) tasks which could put you in bad light within the new organization
or just compel you to quit, in which case you’ll forfeit any severance to which
you might be entitled if you stayed until they get rid of you. All these
entanglements should help you realize that decisions on your future already may
have been made despite the promises of “exciting new challenges.” These signs
may clue you in. By the
way, try to get as much information about the members of the new leadership
team – especially your new boss – as you possibly can. This can lead to further
insight, not only about the new corporate entity, but also about what kind of
human being you’ll be required to work with. This really matters. Not easy,
is it? Every decision point has an equal and opposite one, so the best advice I
can give you is to look out for number one – doggedly, diligently, and
selfishly. The new guys didn’t buy your company with you, your family, and your
future in mind. If it all works out, fine. But to rely on that would be
negligent – actually, stupid is the word – on your part. As in any
impending crisis: plan long, act short, and update often.
