I woke up Monday morning with the cumulative dread of going back to work after two weeks off. I know I have it good. My boss isn't too bad. I get to choose what projects I do. But the reality is that the world of recruiting is full of unknowns right now and I don't like the unknown. It's hard to be excited about doing work when you don't know what the future holds.
I won't even try to tackle 2025 trends because the reality is that I'm scared. I know I'm not alone. In the last 3 to 6 months, I have not spoken to anyone who can even pretend things are business as usual. I don't know one person who works in recruiting - W-2, consultant, or job seeker - who is not wondering at least a little if this industry will even exist in 10 years. Unemployment and quiet business seasons are draining everyone's confidence.
As I sat at my desk Monday morning trying to contort these feelings into productivity, a little answer knocked at my door in the form of the garage door repair man. My partner and I recently bought a house outside of Chicago and as you may know, if you buy a house? You buy at least one problem. After taking a look at the door and walking me through the quote, the man stopped in his tracks just before the front door. "It has been a wild couple weeks," he said. Then he shared that one of his best employees died on December 26th. Without my girlfriend or I asking any questions, he told us a little more about how they started working together.
He met Joey (name changed for respect) because he needed someone to collect metal. He noticed early on that Joey, a disabled veteran, always showed up early and made a good impression on customers. He was so reliable that 30 days into working together, the owner offered Joey a job. Joey's response? "Well, I was waiting for you to figure it out!" The more he told the stories of their work together, it was clear to me Joey is everyone's perfect hire. The kind of person you can rely on to do good work. Someone who will tell you the truth even if it's hard. Confident enough to figure things out and humble enough to raise his hand and ask questions. He will be dearly missed - at work and home.
I've been thinking about Joey all week. I'm constantly reading stories from people who have the impression no one wants to work anymore and people don't care like they used to. But I don't think that's true. People do want to work at a company where they are seen and trusted to make good decisions. People care about causes and doing good in the world, but not doing good for companies who continue to treat them poorly. We've migrated from an employment relationship where we gave it our all without asking questions to setting expectations based on how we're treated. That's not changing even if the rest of the world is.
Know what else won't change? The fact that hiring good people is harder than ever.
The reality is that machines would never hire a Joey. That's exactly why I don't think AI will ever 100% replace recruiters - we need human recruiting. There's no formula for connection, for finding passion, or giving people a chance. There's purpose in human recruiting and its people. I'm reminded every time I answer the phone or speak to a job seeker who just read another atrocious job post. I want to help companies create better job posts for those candidates that are willing to work hard. Will the ways I help folks and what aspects I teach look different than before? Probably. But hell, I was overdue for a playbook change. The entire recruiting industry is.
The next chapter of recruiting isn't the part where we disappear. It's where we learn to break processes that never served our goals. It's where we separate ourselves from machines by doing the part they can't: by delivering more human (and humane) recruiting.
