Six years ago, the last time I applied for an administrative position, most job applications were still done on paper. But times have changed. Now technology affects every aspect of the search process, and that’s not always a good thing, as I learned during my most recent search.
Technology has made it easy to find information about administrative job openings, most of which are listed online. You can even program a virtual search agent to identify openings that fit specified characteristics and then e-mail you about those openings. Online job ads frequently have links to more information about the opening and the institution offering it.
There is sometimes even a link for sending an e-mail message to the search firm handling the opening -- should you have any questions requiring an immediate answer that haven’t been answered by the electronic information already at your disposal.
The application process is also easier now. Instead of agonizing over which paper to use, fighting with your printer, wondering how much postage to put on the envelope, finding an anonymous mailbox, and anxiously waiting for the acknowledgment that your very beautiful materials were received, you can skip that painful process entirely with a few clicks and send everything you want to say straight to the search firm.
If you have used the correct e-mail address, and your e-mail application is not returned, you can safely assume it was received, even if you never hear back from anyone.
One of the downsides of the techology-driven search, however, is more competition. It’s easier to apply, so more people do, and some of them may even be good candidates.
Certainly search committees have more information to wade through and less time to spend perusing your materials. But preliminary interactions with the recruiters are also easier. They can e-mail you at any time of the day or night, no matter where they are in their travels, and you can reply, also at any time, without having to worry that someone will overhear you in your office.
But here is where things can go a little awry.
Consider, for example, the recruiter who e-mailed me some basic documents about an institution where I had applied for an opening. What the recruiter didn’t realize was that attached to the bottom of the message was another message. It was from the very same recruiter to someone at another institution asking that person to apply.
Even though I immediately noticed the faux pas, I didn’t say anything. The recruiter soon sent a corrected version, asking me to discard the first one, leading me to suspect that the recruiter had sent the same problematic message to a number of candidates, one of whom had pointed out the problem. So much for the confidentiality of the person who was being encouraged to apply.
And what if I had been the type to be intimidated by the impressive credentials of that sought-after candidate? (I’m not.)
Technology reaches its height of both usefulness and potential harmfulness when you become a finalist. Not only can the people at your desired institution learn who you are, but the whole world -- now and forever -- can, too. The institution often will put a notice listing the finalists on its Web site. Or the student newspaper may do a story about the finalists, which will appear in the paper’s online version as well as in print. If you are really unlucky, the local newspapers may also run a story about you.
As a result, anyone Googling your name is likely to find those online articles. And because they usually remain accessible long after a search is over, everyone can know, again and again, that you applied for the job and, as happens in most cases, didn’t get it.
That can be particularly problematic when you are applying for different types of administrative jobs. Assisted by the wonders of Google, your prospective employers can’t help but ponder how it is that you could be interested in such very different positions. What is it that you really want to do, anyway?
It probably goes without saying that Googling candidates is now standard operating procedure. In fact, in some places, it is even considered a cheap alternative to background checks. After all, if you were an embezzler or an ax murderer, it would be quite likely to show up somewhere on the Web, right? Just don’t forget to sanitize your Myspace or Facebook pages so that your having joined a group called Drunks United isn’t the talk of the search committee.
The dubious benefits of technology were especially obvious during one of my recent experiences as a candidate. The institution with the opening -- without my knowledge -- made my letter of application, as well as my CV, available to the entire campus by putting those documents on the institution’s intranet.
But it turned out that the intranet wasn’t as “intra” as everyone thought.
People at my home institution found out that I was a finalist for that opening, figured out how to get to my application materials on the other institution’s Web site, and then forwarded my materials all over my current campus. I don’t know their motivation. It could have been because I was involved in some difficult administrative decisions at the time. Or it could simply have been that people love to gossip, a human trait that the Internet has certainly facilitated.
I advise any potential candidates for high-profile administrative positions to be wary and to have a thick skin. Applying may be easier, but the same cannot be said for the rest of the often painfully public search process.
The chances are good that, despite all of the many assurances of confidentiality that search firms and institutions give you, a lot of people are going to learn an awful lot more about you -- and for an awfully long time -- than you ever bargained for.
I especially implore search firms and institutions doing searches to do a much better job of preserving the confidentiality and rights of candidates. Otherwise, over the long term, fewer qualified people will choose to apply for those high-profile positions.
Perhaps it is fitting that I found my new position, not through technology, but through old-fashioned human contact. I spoke with someone influential in my field about my desire to change positions and, before I knew it, had been offered a new job, which has since transformed into an even better job at the same place.
No Web searches, no e-mailing, and no Googling. Just a potential employer and a potential employee, speaking face-to-face.
Camille Johnson is the pseudonym of a senior administrator at a major university in the East.