A few years ago I applied for a job as a “communications officer” in a now dissolved energy company in the UK.
I’m unsure if I can actually say the company name on here as a quick google search will reveal the now ex-ceo and his wife’s identity, and that could be a rule violation.
But lets just say the first part of the company name may or may not rhyme with “steeples” and that this company was an energy provider.
After applying, I took a phone call with the CEO’s wife. Let’s call her Sharon. Sharon asked me to prepare a social media communication plan for their growing company, and to send it to her. I spent many unpaid hours researching their outreach, their demographics and current content. And many more putting together the proposal.
I sent the plan, and was invited to an interview.
So I pop down to their small offices in my suit and tie, and sit in reception for a bit before being greeted by Sharon and shown into her office. She gestured toward a print out of the communication plan, said, “This is very good, but tell me about yourself.”
At first I discussed my interests, then I found myself talking about family. A few questions later, my hopes. Another couple, my fears. And before I know it, Sharon asks me, “Have you ever had therapy?”
I have, but I reply no.
Then she says, “You’re very passionate. But that passion can come across as intense. Can you see how that intensity can be quite off-putting to other people?”
I hear myself say, “Uh. Yes?”
The interview ends and I leave feeling something weird just happened. I felt something was off. Why did I share so much with this stranger? Why was I getting scrutinised for intensity all of a sudden?
I get another phone call, this time I’m going to be interviewed by the CEO. Let’s call him Andy. Because he looks like Andy Dick. Very punchable face.
I go back down there. Andy sits me in an office and asks me about myself. I describe my skill set, my career and touch upon my interests. Then I shit you not, he says:
“You’re very passionate. But that passion can come across as intense. Can you see how that intensity can be quite off-putting to other people?”
Word for fucking word the same thing his wife said the day before.
Now I’m guarded. But he’s trying to get personal stuff out of me. At one point I looked out the window and he demanded I unpack why I did that. He analysed my body language, commented on how uncomfortable I seemed and at one point said:
“My concern is how your intensity will affect other people.”
Then, he asks me to write a press release about how great him and his company is, right there in front of him.
“For who?” I ask.
“Just anyone,” he says.
“No I mean, who’s your audience?”
“Me,” he says.
By that point I’m all fucked up so I just scribble something. He takes it and just like that I’m shown the door.
For days I felt like I’d been abused somehow. Not once was the role discussed, or the hours of free work. Something really wrong was at play.
So I looked them up on LinkedIn.
Both of them have high flying degrees in psychology. He has a PHD in psycho therapeutic techniques. Her something similar.
Mother fuckers, I thought. They played me like a fiddle.
I wrote a massive email to them about how immoral – and likely illegal – it is to pull this shit on people. The only part I can remember verbatim was the sign off:
“You seem very comfortable using unsolicited clinical techniques on strangers. Can you see how that comfortability can come across as arrogance, and how that arrogance can be off-putting to people?”
Didn’t hear anything back. But the company went bust last year. So I’d imagine they found that rather off-putting.