You’re so fit

“I just didn’t feel they were a right fit”.

That’s the feedback heard time and time again in recruitment. But is it fair? Is “fit” something that you can reasonably justify and does it really matter?

As much as we would like to pretend recruitment is a science, so much of it still resides firmly in art. We make decisions not just based on technical skills and abilities, but on how we feel about the person. And the irony is that we both accept and reject this concept in modern HR practice.

On one hand we applaud the Google approach to assessment and selection being analytic and impartial. At the same time we congratulate Netflix for their intolerance towards mavericks and disruptive individuals. We want you to have the skills, but we want you to fit in.

Of course fit has a whole host of discriminatory overtones to it too. I’m not entirely sure I’d be judged as a good fit in a conservative, Catholic institution. But that is perhaps a too trivial way of looking at things. What about a woman applying to an all male environment, or a muslim to a secular workplace?

Yet at the same time, I understand the importance of “fit”, the need for someone coming in to the workplace to embed within the team and to gel with the organisational ethos. In many ways I think the organisational fit will be more important than technical skills in the future of our corporate lives.

But is “fit” ever justified? I think it is. As a candidate, I assess an organisation on whether I think I’ll be happy there, whether it matches with my ethics and opinions. So why shouldn’t organisations do just the same thing, providing it isn’t discriminatory?

I think that’s ok. Don’t you?

The final whistle

I’m pretty certain that this will be neither the first, nor the last, blog post to look at the Ferguson, Moyes, Manchester United saga. I’m certainly no football commentator or expert and I look at the events more from the world of business and work than sport. That said, football clubs are now multi million (if not billion) dollar businesses and there are a number of things that strike me as ill-fated about this whole scenario.

First, let’s look at the context. David Moyes succeeded Sir Alex, probably the most successful British manager of all times. Over the best part of 30 years he built an empire around himself despite, ironically, arguing that no player was bigger than the club. Whoever was going to succeed him was going to be facing a massive power void. But not only that, they’d be coming in to manage a team that had just convincingly won the league.

So let’s look at what went wrong.

The first mistake was allowing Sir Alex to anoint his successor. I understand the appeal of this move, the romanticism and the seeming practicality of the endorsement. It reflects on the power that Ferguson had. An endorsement in front of the fans from Sir Alex was seen as more convincing than an endorsement from the management.

We all want leaders to build succession, that has to be the right thing, we want them to build talented teams. But the decision on the appointment, the choice has to be based on the people who have skin in the game going forward, it is just a simple fact. When you leave, you should have no further say on your team, the leadership or how they’re managed. You’ve left.

There is one thing asking any manager to turn around an underperforming team. when things are at a low, you can be ruthless, you can experiment, you can wield the axe. Taking over a successful team is much harder. Any changes that you make will be inspected, discussed and examined under the organisational microscope. One of the tricks is to change as little as possible in the short-term, to provide continuity and to examine how to make the incremental changes that will lead to further success.

By changing the key backroom staff, Moyes made perhaps the most fundamental error of his short-lived tenure. If the team had been failing this would have been understandable, even applauded. But by changing a winning formula, so quickly and with little apparent reason, he chose to destabilise a team which was already experiencing a power vacuum. You either have to be supremely confident to do that, or completely stupid.

And finally, let’s talk about recruitment. Once again, we need to see this in the light of a previously high performing (although ageing) team. If Moyes had kept his support staff, his managers, around him he might have been allowed the time to bring on new and exciting talent, he might have created the stability that would have allowed him to experiment. But, as we know, he didn’t.

Given this, he needed to bring in established talent. one of the things that we know about high performing environments is that they recognise and indeed welcome, high performing individuals. Anyone that you bring in has to stand shoulder to shoulder in ability and aptitude with those that are already there. Recruiting in to high performing teams is harder than recruiting in to average or under performing teams. Because more is expected, more is demanded and less is forgiven. The failure to recruit in high performing talent in any part of the team isn’t the failing of one man, it is the failing of the organisation as a whole.

Much will be written about the Manchester United story, much of it will be better informed than this. But the elements, when we unpick them, are nothing new. The tenets of organisational performance are the same regardless of the sector in which you operate and everything that we’ve seen over the last season has been seen and done before in other businesses. Perhaps, most importantly, could easily have been avoided.

If Moyes was Sir Alex and this was a match, he’d be praying for some “Fergie time” right now. But he isn’t and it isn’t. And much to his disgust, the final whistle has just been blown.

Why HR should hate change just a little bit more

I often hear HR professionals express how comfortable they are with change, how much they like it. I find this both peculiar and a little bit terrifying. The curse of many a modern business is the almost incessant approach to instigating  change. Initiative after initiative, programme after programme, with never enough time between them to properly evaluate or measure impact.

Normally these initiatives are driven by the leadership team and eagerly pounced on by HR leaders to show how committed they are to delivering the corporate agenda. I figure that’s why so many of them profess to like change; it provides the organisational hard-on of temporary, central importance.

Most of the time, we completely overlook the emotional and psychological impact of change. Success is measured in operational plans, in business cases, on gant charts and in milestones. Success is a tick box exercise.

And of course, as we all know, if the change really was that successful, it would only need to be done once.

Many organisations, many if not most employees, are change fatigued. They’re walking zombie-like waiting for the next initiative to come and fail. In the meantime, trying to do their jobs despite the machinations of their leaders to seemingly make things harder. Don’t believe me? Spend a day in any FTSE100 company or any part of the public sector and speak to the people actually doing the work.

Where is HR in all this? Well certainly not where it needs to be, understanding the impact of the changes on employees, diagnosing real organisational performance issues and challenging the business to fine tune and not continually volt-face like a goldfish in the throws of a drug induced epileptic fit.

I don’t want HR people to like change, I don’t want them to be comfortable with it. I actually want them to hate it a little bit more, to be wary of it. That way, they might take it a bit more seriously and think about the implications on the wider organisations. Not just where they’re going to get the next pat on the head.

Can bad companies do good work?

I was at the Top Employers accreditation dinner this week. I like the idea of these accreditation systems and I particularly like the work that Top Employers are doing around global standards. One of the strong arguments for them is that they’re helpful for those companies that may not be consumer brands or well-known outside of their sector. It sends a message that says, “we are a good place to work, even if you don’t know who we are”.

But should we recognise good employment practice, regardless of the goals of the organisation? Is it good enough to just be seen to treat employees well, or should we be questioning organisational purpose?

Is being seen as a good employer often a tactic to compensate for public perceptions of “moral” acceptability?

I’ve written before about the way in which RBS was heralded for their innovative people management practices, how News International promoted their “culture change programme” and I could go on and provide a myriad of company failures.

But at the same time, we also know that there are societal issues that we need to address: obesity, alcohol consumption and binge drinking, the incidence of smoking in developing countries.

When we recognise employers should we consider what those employers do? Or do we just accept that everything is fair game and let the moral judgments be made elsewhere? Where do we draw the line?

On the podium at this particular event (and I don’t intend to single out Top Employers in any way) were McDonalds, KFC, Heineken, JD Weatherspoons, Molson Coors, British American Tobacco and Phillip Morris International. Not to mention The Co-op Group last week described as “ungovernable” by its own CEO.

Should HR and people practice sit in isolation, or if it is integral to a company culture, ethos and purpose. Should we not take that into account too?