I was doing some digging on the Way Back Machine recently and came across this, my first ever corporate blog post, with the depressing dateline of Thursday, December 16, 2006. That means I’ve actually somehow been doing this closing in on 7 years now, which is simultaneously scary and depressing – much like this post, my first realization that creative writing and corporate America weren’t mutually exclusive concepts.
Because literally hundreds of posts later, my writing style hasn’t demonstratively improved (even if the content itself has increased in sophistication and relevancy). In fact, it’s just become sanitized as B2B blogging has moved from bleeding edge to absolutely ubiquitous – a trend I’ve had to follow, by necessity.
But this existential essay I wrote when I was 24 proves the maxim that not only is youth wasted on the young, but tone, voice and style are all wasted on content marketing. Hope you enjoy this walk down memory lane from way back in the day, when I actually used to look like the guy in the picture on the right.
This post originally appeared on the Kenexa blog, but it’s not there anymore, much like my hairline in aforementioned photo.
If you’re like most sourcers or recruiters, you’ve probably got about another twenty tabs already open on your browser in addition to this one. Fifteen of those, at least, will be hooked up to candidate databases like job boards, an ATS, or LinkedIn. Keeping all these windows open only makes sense (even if it makes browsing a bit slower).
After all, remembering all those passwords and usernames, much less using them to log in every time, is both a huge pain and a huge time suck. Tabs make it at least a little big easier to look at candidates side by side from different sources, even if their results (not to mention candidate relevance and ranking) display completely differently.
People have been foretelling the end of time since pretty much the beginning of it, and most of them are crazy – the ring a bell, stand on the corner in Times Square with a sandwich board and sackcloth kind of crazy.
But then again, some of those people are the foundation for major world religions, so this is a pretty high risk, high reward statement:
In 2020, HR as an independent function will no longer exist. At least not in North America.
Note: I’ve written a lot of landing pages in my time. And while the text may change, the subtext remains the same:
Thanks for clicking that display ad. You’re in the .002% of impressions that actually convert, sucker. Not only did you use the same really obscure search term our SEO people told us we should bid on, but you also happen to have been bored enough to answer our crappy call to action floating somewhere in your sidebar. Clearly, with that sort of time on your hands, you are exactly the sort of decision maker we are looking for.
Most recruiters are honest and upfront with job seekers. Largely caring and committed, recruiters often genuinely care about every candidate, even if they don’t necessarily always show it. But many of the most common put-offs, while usually well-intentioned and largely innocuous, are as integrated into the recruiting process as applicant tracking systems and reference checks.
I started this blog as a way to kind of aggregate all the content I put out on other sites in my day job, which, in hindsight, probably wasn’t necessary because, well, I’m a writer who hates to write and has about the same level of output as Harper Lee (although obviously not in quality).
I kind of regard myself as a blogger, because it’s an easier self-identifier than, say, “content marketing whore,” so the other day, someone asked me a question that, frankly, I’m surprised I hadn’t been asked before.
So do you actually have, like, a real blog besides all that corporate stuff?