Can We Eliminate the CV?
We Make Life-Altering Decisions Based on Pieces of Paper
In the past year, I have read hundreds of Curriculum Vitae and résumés, and I struggled through almost all of them. While reading my own, I cringe and cannot help but skim over details. Much has been written about the bias inherent in CVs, yet we have not found a better solution.
I am a fan of templates, and I can understand the value of CVs and résumés. Internal recruiters work with hundreds of applicants for many open roles and have to filter candidates for hiring managers. Frequently, they use artificial intelligence and machine learning to help make the first cut, before their intelligence takes over.
Unconscious bias raises its head throughout the process, and I could argue it is even worse on LinkedIn. For years, I did not have a profile picture on LinkedIn, a situation that seemed to annoy LinkedIn based on the number of reminders I had to upload a photo. There were many other areas of my profile that remained empty, but none seemed to elicit as much notice from LinkedIn as my absent photo.
Can artificial intelligence shrink certain biases in the hiring process? Can sorting software eliminate identifying factors that may signal diversity dimensions like race, gender, age and ethnicity? Even if these steps are possible, should we employ them if we are trying to create workplaces that are more diverse and inclusive? I am skeptical: for a price, résumé reviewing services, recruitment professionals and even LinkedIn Premium will coach candidates to ensure their CVs have the right keywords to pass through filtering systems and attract the right kind of attention.
As a result, instead of providing a sense of an individual’s capabilities and accomplishments, CVs are a jumble of buzzwords and bullet points. We spend years and expend energy building careers we are proud of, only to sum them up in a couple of pages (no more than two, the experts say!). Whenever I want to feel demoralized, I read my CV in its entirety.
My CV does not contain the most memorable experiences of my career, the moments when I learned the most and that made me the person I am today. It does not include the times when I doubted myself or the times I felt most confident. It does not include the individual failures and successes that mean more to me than keyword-laden, outcome-focused bullet points.
My CV does not include the conversation I had with my leader asking him to consider me for a role, and the subsequent effort I took to earn it, (nor does it include the opportunities he offered me to demonstrate I was capable). It does not include the successes I had finding new roles and connections for people, or the times I had to inform them that they were being laid off.
My CV does not include the time when a senior executive made racist remarks about the audience we were meant to be serving, or the fact that I quit a month later. It does not include the time when I used the phrase “inversely proportional” while waiting tables or the quizzical look from my customer while he asked how I knew what that meant. (To be fair, my CV does not include the time I spent waiting tables, working at a dude ranch, working as a bank teller or teaching flying trapeze.)
My CV does not include the time when I left my computer connected to the Internet after a live presentation and an instant message from my sister, asking if I wanted to go to a beer festival, interrupted the following speaker’s presentation.
My CV does not include the periods in my career when the Internet boom was busting, and while I had a job, I was underemployed. It does not include the month I spent learning to sign “Party in the U.S.A.”. It does not include that I improved my real-life pool game through numerous Yahoo! Pool tournaments.
My CV does not include the times in my career when I felt bullied and small, or the times in my career when I was given (earned?) a stage to shine on. It does not include the times when sexist remarks were made, and as the only woman in the room, I laughed and went along with it. It does not include the times I interviewed celebrities on stage — opportunities I may have had, in some part, because I was a relatively senior, native-English-speaking woman.
My CV does not include my bigger mistakes or my smaller successes. It does not include the time when I tried to create an opportunity but did so in a way that caused frustration. It does not include the time when I tried to find a compromise and caused a lot of extra work in the process. It does not include how proud I was when, despite budget cuts, our teams were able to stay focused and motivated, and deliver excellent results.
My CV is a list of outcomes and platitudes that make it seem like I alone am responsible for my success. I would not have achieved a fraction of what I have without the teammates, leaders and mentors who have surrounded me. My CV is a list of our achievements, gained through support, collaboration and trust.
I have, on rare occasions, read someone’s CV and thought that I would like to meet that person, but it is never the entirety of the document that piques my curiosity. It is a small detail that opens a door into their humanity — a language they speak, a hobby they have, an interesting career pivot or gap. Even so, I have never met someone less interesting in real life than they are on their CV.
Sadly, I do not have the solution. We will continue to use CVs to wade through forests of applicants, and then we will continue to have interviews and case studies, in person or virtually. Maybe in the future, our CVs will be housed in a blockchain; rather than our singular creations, they will be the product of our collaborations and experiences, much like our careers. With so much talent available as a result of the Great Resignation, perhaps the time is right for the disruption of this factory system.
