With a Sincere Realization That Its Continued Success is Thoroughly

I received a call yesterday that I let go straight to voicemail. It was from a company I had been interviewing with for several weeks, and I was expecting either a rejection email or a phone call informing me of next steps moving forward. I looked at the unopened voicemail like a gift that I was waiting all afternoon to unwrap.

Eventually I got a coffee, got comfy, and listened to the inevitable good news. Instead it was the HR recruiter asking me to call her. Even better, I'd get to make arrangements on the phone. Surprisingly, though, when I called her I was informed that "unfortunately" my application was no longer being considered.

It threw me through a loop. Who calls to give a rejection? It felt against protocol, and cruel somehow, even though I loved the woman and her genuine sympathy.

But was a call against protocol? What's the alternative? Is a form email after weeks (or in some cases, months) better than a personalized rejection? And if so, does the actual language within make any difference on how crummy it feels to be rejected?

there's typically just one sentence laying out the cold, hard truth: you've been rejected

To find out I collected the action statements from the last batch of rejection emails I've received over time. When you scrub away the bromides of thanking the applicant for her resume, explaining how impressed the company is with her experience, and promising to be in touch should another job come up (I've never, ever received such follow-up in 20yrs of jobs), there's typically just one sentence laying out the cold, hard truth: you've been rejected.

Rejection statements tend to fall into the following categories:

Fit

By far the most popular sentiment utilized in rejection emails is the nebulous specter of "fit," the be-all-end-all to hiring decisions worldwide. I'm convinced that the majority of people (approximately 100%) in charge of hiring don't do enough diligence to comprehensively define their job needs, learn about their candidates, and see potential instead of past experience only. Instead, they "know it when they see it" AKA look for "fit."

Here are some of the action statements I've received related to fit:

• It looks like this role would not be the best fit for your talents, but know we are continually adding to our world class team and that our door is always open for you to explore other opportunities.
• You have a great background but unfortunately, we've decided to move forward with other candidates who more closely match the requirements of the role.
• We have had a chance to review your application in consideration for the role, and while your skills and experience are impressive, they are not the right fit at this time.
• At the present time, there are other candidates whose qualifications more closely match the requirements for this position and we will be moving forward with them in the recruiting process.
• We appreciate your interest; however, we are currently pursuing other candidates whose background and skills more closely fit our current needs.
• Our team has reviewed your application and we've carefully decided to move forward with other candidates who we feel more closely match the unique requirements for the position.
• Based on your application, this role wasn't a great fit.

To be honest, it's hard to argue against fit. If there's a moral, humane way to reject someone it's more than likely on the merits of fit. That being said, such rejections should be followed up (upon request) with specific reasons why there wasn't a fit (after all I once lost a job because I was told I wasn't a good "fit" AKA "we need an excuse to shed money off our team's budget.")

Still, "fit" more than likely is the most appropriate language to use in a rejection. And yet, many companies utilize other terms instead.

Unfortunately

Many rejection letters note how unfortunate it is that an applicant is being rejected. It's never quite clear if it's more unfortunate for the company or the applicant, but it's clear that the inclusion of the term is meant to imbue some human sentiment akin to empathy within the stark constraints of boilerplate language:

• Unfortunately, after careful consideration, we have determined that our current position is not ideally suited to your talents, experience, and qualifications.
• We reviewed your resume and unfortunately have decided to move forward with other candidates for the role.
• Unfortunately, we are unable to offer you a role at this time.

Regret

Unfortunately's sibling is "regret," the company's admission that, hey, we really don't want to have to do this, but it's our job. We truly regret having to carry out this part of our jobs, but here it is:

• After careful consideration, we regret to inform you that you have not been selected to interview for this position.
• After careful consideration and representative of a very competitive marketplace, we regret to inform you that we are unable to move you forward in the process.
• We have reviewed your application and we regret to inform you that it has not been selected for further consideration.
• After careful consideration, we regret to inform you that you have not been selected for this position.

It's worth noting that each instance of regret I received in rejection was prefaced by an assurance that the company carefully considered my materials. This clause is undoubtedly included to show the applicant that due process was carried out, and that the applicant is being rejected only after her materials were analyzed and compared to the job description in question. Perhaps it's because of this process (and applicants are led to believe, the hours spent conducting it) that the regret is meant to carry more weight.

Closed

Sometimes a rejection notice doesn't even officially reject an applicant so much as tell her that there's no longer a job to apply to. It was all in illusion the email seems to imply, and if someone else got in before the job was "closed" it was no doubt only due to some Indiana Jones style last minute scramble (don't forget your hat!)

• We wanted to let you know that the position you applied to has either been filled with another candidate or closed.
• I am writing to let you know that unfortunately the role has closed.

Oddly, hearing that a position has "closed" somehow always makes me feel better. For me it really is a "regretful" and "unfortunate" action, since I always assume that they were carefully reviewing my materials--just on the cusp of calling me in--before funding was cut or the company went under. The role has closed, it's nobody's fault, we're all quite torn up about it.

Passive - Aggressive

My true favorite rejections, though, fall into two camps: ones that are so direct, and so cavalier, that you almost have to respect their audacity (or arrogance); and ones that are so passive that it seems like even they don't know how the decision was made: it just sort of happened. Passive and/or aggressive rejections are two sides of the same blunt coin, flipped to an applicant as consolation bus fair. Don't spend it all in one place, kid.

• We have reviewed your background and qualifications, and are sorry to let you know that we will not be considering you further for this role.

The statement above is actually muted a bit by the inclusion of "sorry." But make no mistake, this is a blatant rejection. Also, considering that there were none of the typical bromides (e.g. you're great, we'll be in touch, etc.) accompanying this statement, they may as well just have emailed "No, thanks."

But it's the passive ones that delight me like no other:

• After careful consideration of your application, we have concluded that we cannot proceed with your candidacy for the position at this time.
• In the spirit of transparency, we wanted to let you know that we have had a number of qualified applicants and we won't be able to continue with your candidacy at this time.

These rejections point to mysterious forces of nature that are preventing them from doing what they would otherwise like to do (namely, hire the applicant.) "We have concluded that we cannot proceed" sounds like an announcement made by a gate agent after a flight has been delayed for hours only to finally be cancelled. While "we won't be able to continue" is verbatim what I've repeated to my wife after our daughters have thrown yet another tantrum on the way to the playground. Honey, I know we've only gone two blocks, but I won't be able to continue.

The power of language

There are no easy answers to rejecting candidates. Especially for roles that receive hundreds (if not thousands) of applications, there's little more that can be done than run the resumes through an AI-fueled database and cross your fingers that only the right candidates pop out. And rejection sucks no matter how you cut it, even if for every qualified candidate there are 10 who are unqualified: they all get the same email.

My only hope for HR managers, and hiring managers, worldwide is that rejection can be handled with speed and an empathy commensurate to the amount of time the applicant has put into her application and/or interviews. A pray-and-spray resume drop on a search site deserves a lot less attention than a candidate who has gone through multiple rounds of phone calls and in-person interviews.

But make no mistake: the language we use matters, and language--more than anything else, including "fit"--is a reflection of culture. Unlike the passive rejections highlighted above, rejection letters don't just happen. They are written and approved. It would be my hope that the wording that goes into any rejection letter receives the same amount of attention and care that an initial job notice does. Given, though, that even many job calls can be haphazardly cobbled together (asking for everything and nothing simultaneously), perhaps that's not asking a whole lot.

Still, given that many jobs don't ever write anything after a rejection, any language--as long as it's direct and supportive--is better than none at all. Rejection sucks, but it's also the first step toward eventual acceptance.

Chris Gerben is a digital strategist and content producer. Though he's a reluctant collector of rejection statements, he'd much rather receive a job offer. Want to hire him? Let's talk in the first person!

smithhimmuch.blogspot.com

Source: https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/its-us-you-understanding-language-rejection-letters-chris-gerben

Share this post