The Ethics of Job Recruiting

I’ve been told to slow it down. Write a phenomenal cover letter. Try harder. Maybe if you narrowed your scope, you’d have a better chance of something. Aimless applications aren’t going to get you anywhere.

But on the other hand, I’ve been told that you never know until you try. A rejection isn’t an affirmation of your uselessness as a human being, it’s bringing you one step closer to an acceptance. Maybe your dream job is in Arkansas. And if anything, perseverance is something to be admired.

In-person interviews are still important, but not quite
as common as they used to be. Source

In Social networking technology and the virtues, Shannon Vallor argues that if virtue ethics is to be believed, habitual actions are important parts of moral development. So does desperately applying to every single job position of interest promote vices or virtues?

It’s clear that our parent’s “infallible” advice about getting a job no longer holds true. You can’t just “go to the headquarters, give them your resume and be personable!” when the job market spans the entire country. Most of the application process has been digitized, thanks to virtual employment marketplaces like ZipRecruiter and softwares like Zoom and Google Hangouts, resulting in unparalleled efficiency and speed. Luciano Floridi’s arguments in The Fourth Revolution take on a new dimension when applied to this current job search process — whatever “defines us uniquely” is no longer the mix of skills and hobbies it might have been in the past. If, according to your resume, you’re a senior at an elite university that knows Python, is passionate about AI, and wants to become a SWE at Google, you’re just one of thousands with the exact same list. You have to leverage your connections, know someone who knows someone, or just get lucky.

Interview chagrin hits hard. Source

I’ll argue that as long as you’re aware, digitized job applications promote positive moral development. Getting rejected repeatedly teaches us that we can’t have everything we want, that the world is bigger than we know, and that it’s important to keep trying. As Floridi hints, we’re actually pushed to understand ourselves better — do I actually want to work at Google, or do I just want the prestige? If we’re not at the center of the infosphere, how do we want to fit into it? And what will personal meaning and fulfillment look like in our lives, when we’re miles away from the pressure-pot competitiveness that permeates much of campus?