A Google product manager filed a lawsuit in California Superior Court yesterday, alleging the company’s strict internal confidentiality policies represent a breach of California labor laws.
The lawsuit alleges that Google has implemented an enterprise wide “spying program” for current employees to voluntarily report coworkers and colleagues suspected of leaking confidential information or trade secrets.
For an industry whose professional certification involves “competency based assessments,” there’s a surprising amount of incompetence when it comes to sorting out the product marketing buzz and BS coming from companies offering the coolest stuff you never really needed to fix a problem you didn’t know you had.
Of course, where “best practices” are basically the same stuff everyone’s been doing since before we even started making up generational theory and talking about “Millennials.”
Millennial themed content is kind of like the minstrel show of the new Millennium.
It’s blatantly offensive to a protected class through sweeping stereotypes for the purposes of entertaining the masses who largely distrust this largely marginalized group, who find great pleasure in the overt, exaggerated and hyperbolized presentation of perceived Gen Y foibles.
In fact, this cottage industry of discriminatory ageism disguised as some sort of “best practice” or workforce strategy, which is akin to cryptozoology or phrenology in terms of the validity of a field that is at best, the collision of pseudoscience and pop culture.
At its worst, it’s unadulterated ageism, and often pundits and practitioners don’t even bother hiding their bias or completely irrational (and illegal) beliefs on gender theory.
I have been writing HR Technology Conference related preview posts for 8 years now. This realization depresses me. The best years of my life have been spent on, well, this.
The nice thing, though, is that nothing has really changed since the first one of these I went to all the way back in 2009 except there were around 2000 attendees back then.
This number has skyrocketed, obviously, as we’ve moved from a lazy business backwater into the hipster neighborhood for venture capitalists and entrepreneurs.
For all the talk of “reinvention” in recruiting, for all the products promising to “disrupt” hiring, and for all the banal banter about fixing what’s “broken” in talent acquisition today, the one part of the process that has more or less escaped any modicum of automation, transformation or innovation is perhaps the most important: the job interview.
There’s a reason, unlike the resume or on-premise software or the manifold other job search standbys, the interview has remained more or less above the fray, universally accepted and unilaterally adopted as an inextricable part of the employee screening and selection process.
So, we’re pulling up to #BSidesLV (after attending, I’m still not sure what the hell that means), and I’m about to swipe my card through the taxi meter when suddenly, the screen goes black. Suddenly, some Linux instance popped up (I know because it was written on the bottom of the screen), although I have no idea what the hell it said, since I’m not that technically proficient.
I didn’t have to know code, though, to get the message loud and clear. I gingerly put my debit card back in my wallet (crisis averted), then asked my partner in crime Pete to borrow some cash. He’s much more prepared for this than I am, with a burner phone and shit. I just run a pretty solid VPN I got in the iTunes store and make sure to use my browsers in incognito only, with all location services turned off.
I have no memories (first hand, of course) of Monster’s now seminal Super Bowl spot, “When I Grow Up,” mainly because I was growing up, and, being in middle school, paid infinitely more attention to getting girls than I did getting a job.
That was still over a decade away, one that, turns out, went a whole lot faster than expected – likely because I’ve intentionally blocked all memories of high school from my mind and was barely conscious in college. But inevitably, that day came where my ass had to go out looking for my first job.
I’m currently reading a dense David McCullough book (an oldie but a goodie), The Path Between The Seas, which won a Pulitzer back in the 70s and is a compelling read for anyone with a sadomasochistic interest in the intersection of American imperialism and global capitalism, intermixed with minute details on things like maritime engineering, flood control and trends in 19th century mercantilism. I’m a sucker for that sort of thing (and yeah, I’m really boring, and a huge nerd, and I own it).
The feat of engineering that was the original Panama Canal overcame a tremendous number of obstacles, from pestilence and plague to worker mutinies, unrelenting terrain and widespread deaths and abuse among the imported laborers, thousands of lives lost in pursuit of a profit none but a few elite Frenchmen and some enterprising (and evil) American investors would ever see so much as a sou.