Letters to the Editor: Navigating modern-day recruitment as a young worker

One reader reflects on the challenge of securing a job, while others consider climate change and Ireland's defence policy

One reader suggests that job-hunting has become much like the digitised world of online dating — not least in terms of rejection unaccompanied by basic human courtesy and decency. Stock picture: iStock

Attempting to enter the job market as a skilled young graduate — Expected waiting time: Eight months, and 100+ rejections. It is of my potentially controversial yet humble, Generation Z “snowflake” opinion that the modern world of recruitment has become much like that of its digital counterpart — the modern digitised world of dating.

Such a desensitised world, where people are no longer people; they are swipeable, ghostable, and incentive-driven entities.

Where emotional joyrides are common, relations are short-lived, and rejections executed without basic human courtesy and decency (that is of course if the recruitee/date goer is lucky enough to actually be rejected and not merely “ghosted”).

Upon recently receiving my umpteenth rejection — an impersonalised, error-ridden, automated email after extensive rounds of applications, interviews and tests — I began to think about just how thick the skin of young people or recent graduates seeking to enter a so-called “booming” job market ought to be. 

Even more so, if such a demographic, alike a proud humanities graduate myself, dare to step outside the narrow, glorified repertoire of traditionally “employability friendly” subjects — commerce, law, engineering… (you know, the ones who have entire careers fairs dedicated to them). 

To top off my ever so-inspiring rejection, (which ironically came from a Google-sponsored PR initiative, whoops, I meant programme, seeking to “nourish the next generation of young journalists”), was the classic rejection cop-out trope that the demographic in question will most likely be acquainted with: “Please note that because of the high volume of applications, we cannot provide you with individualised feedback on your application.” 

Weirdly enough, this “high volume” actually pertained to a narrowed-down list of shortlisted candidates.

Before my parent’s generation and the boomers get their knickers in a twist and start with the “Your generation has it easier than ever with jobs” spiel, (while we’re at it, how about your generation had it easier than ever with housing spiel?), despite undeniable advances that have created more professional opportunities today, there are concurrently certain novel factors that have made obtaining said opportunities even more difficult.

For one, unlimited opportunities = unlimited competition and expectations. Nowadays, it seems as if an honours bachelor’s degree, if even a master’s degree, is merely an hors d’oeuvre for a recruiter’s elevated standards. 

A driving factor of such fierce competition are the comically oxymoronic, unrealistic job expectations and standards posted on “entry-level” roles (seeking XYZ years and ABCDEF... skills and experience). 

Not only are these requirements unrealistic, they more importantly unfairly promote unequal opportunities.  If anything, they look past those who may not have had the chance for whatever reason — be it personal, financial etc — to travel or to gain unpaid work experience, which is largely the norm these days, even in cities as expensive as Dublin. 

At the end of the day, every unique and equally able candidate assimilating into any company will require some form of training. Doesn’t everyone, no matter what background, deserve a chance? Even if they haven’t had the time to complete three summers of unpaid internship at their dad’s legal firm, 100 LinkedIn courses, or create their own start-up before the age of 22? Pathetic, right?

My own potentially salty experience aside, recently I’ve heard alarming accounts from classmates and contacts, much like myself holding high-scoring academic accreditations and prior experiences under their belt, struggling to secure a fitting professional opportunity in Ireland — again despite a so-called booming economic climate.

One being a first-class honours master’s graduate of data analytics and economics, who forewarningly told a French friend of mine (equally, if not more qualified) seeking work in Ireland, that it took him eight months to land a job here.

Another being a gifted, hardworking, and simply likeable Letterkenny graduate of law and social justice who, whilst breaking her back applying and interviewing for jobs, couldn’t help but find herself partially dissuaded by hearing of those in unrelated backgrounds magically (cough cough by the powers of D4 mommies and daddies), securing jobs at one of the Big Four. 

Despite certain employers’ often flamboyant promotions of their best diversity, inclusion, and equal opportunity practices, from what I and a lot of other graduates hear and see, in certain industries anyways, the days of “it’s who you know” are still very much in full nepotistic swing.

On top of these hurdles, the psychological and existential weight of professional choices (and complementing mishaps) come at a much heavier cost than they ever did in my parents’ era — where a job was just a job, where you somehow managed, with solely a mediocre Leaving Certificate, to find your way into a company and “work your way up the ladder”. 

On the contrary, these days, thanks to a plethora of choice and values, a hustle and capitalistic geared culture and unchallengeable meritocratic societal values, like it or not, a job has a lot to say about a person. Is it really a wonder why young people are so riddled with anxiety?

One of the best pieces of professional advice I received throughout my four years of university came post my circa 20th rejection, from a skilled journalist and fantastic mentor teaching a professional workshop. That advice was: “You have a lot less control of your career than you think you do.”

Although it may be seem like a rather implausible, and sore-loser cop-out in this world-is-your-oyster, unwaveringly loyal meritocratic era, when you actually consider all of the uncontrollable factors I’ve touched on (inflated standards and competition, nepotism, personal factors, finances, and most importantly, sheer luck), it may seem easier than you think to consider that alike any other aspect of life — relationships, health etc — careers are no more saliently controllable, stable nor just.

Eve Moore, Donabate, Dublin

Two forms of ‘daft’ in Ireland’s defence

For good reason, Ireland’s defence has been an area of much discussion recently.

Likewise, it’s something I have put thought into, and it has become obvious to me that if Ireland wishes to be serious about our defence, this can truly manifest in only two ways, both of which are daft.

The first way is daft, not in the traditional sense, but rather as an acronym. That is to say it would be devastating, absolute, final, and terrifying, or DAFT for short.

This option is of course equipping ourselves with the ultimate deterrent; nuclear warheads. I would expect that this would garner much criticism.

What right have we, a small nation, in giving ourselves the keys to nuclear Armageddon and the total destruction of humanity and all life on Earth? There’s a strong argument in saying that no nation has the right to destroy the world, however people making that argument have been unsuccessful in winning the argument, partially on account of their opponents having nukes. It could never really be a fair fight.

The second way sounds much more daft, in the classical sense. If we look at today’s world leaders and warmongers, the phrase “male and stale” certainly comes to mind. Given this, Ireland has the capacity to utilise a unique form of leverage over this demographic.

That is of course that most of the world’s Viagra is produced in Ireland (apparently the Spire is an advertisement for it).

I have no doubt that a strategic economic sanction regarding this would take the wind out of a few men’s sails, in both the metaphorical and biblical sense. If we used this, I would go so far as to bet on world peace by the end of the week.

Seán de Búrca, Loughrea, Co Galway

Flying past the laws of physics

I don’t know if Mick O’Leary knows even less than I do about physics, but I have my suspicions.

Maybe he and other airline CEOs should do a short course in aerodynamics to acquaint themselves with the business of actually flying airplanes in cold air versus hot, and how increases in temperature requires more fuel and less weight to take off and land.

If Micko thinks that he can subvert the laws of physics by ignoring climate change, he might be better advised to quit while he’s ahead and confine himself to breeding pedigree beasts down on the farm.

Liam Power, Dundalk, Co Louth

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