Picture the situation:
‘ Well, Mr T could you tell us a bit about yourself and what brought you here?’
A tirade of incoherent phrases ensues.
All the “I” gives it a staccato rhythm. I–I–I–I–I
‘ What makes you qualified for this job?’
‘ Only I can fix it.’
The panel members look at each other in disbelief.
‘ What are your weaknesses?’
‘ %&!!??%%&##!!!!!’
‘ Thank you, but we did not ask about other people’s weaknesses.’
‘ A key part of this position is to handle complex information on a variety of issues where you seem to have little experience. How are you going to handle that?’
Mr T sounds like a lawn mower.
‘ Tell us about a time you made a huge mistake, and how you dealt with it?’
After ruminating on the sputtering grass, the panel gives up.
‘ Thank you, Mr T. You will be hearing from us.’
What if you had been told this candidate still got the job?
That is what happens to us every day. Or we let it happen. Perhaps not as extreme as with that particular candidate but some variation of it.
Anyone can enter politics, and make decisions that affect millions. You can do so without any tests of your knowledge, skills or capabilities. No acknowledged assessment of your character either.
What if all politicians had instead undergone a standardised evaluation? Not just landed the job because they are good at talking or have some kind of charisma?
To become a civil servant to the European institutions you need to go through a long and hard selection process (which many fail – I did).
You have to pass computerised tests in verbal, numerical and abstract thinking. After that, you will be called to an assessment centre for group exercises:
“The skills you will be assessed on …analysis and problem-solving, communicating, delivering quality and results, learning and development, prioritising and organising, resilience, working with others and in the case of graduates, leadership.”
The politicians in the European Parliament, though, get the job through a relatively arbitrary selection process. Firstly, within their own political parties, and secondly through national elections.
Back to Mr T, who has just taken part in a group test.
Dialogue between the two assessors:
‘ What do you say? How can we give the others a fair assessment? Mr T did all the talking!’
‘ Not only that. His incoherence made it impossible for the others to respond. He started blust– sorry, talking before he had even read the background paper. I believe he did not even know what the test was about.’
‘ How could that man slip through the computer-based tests? No sign of any verbal reasoning or logical thinking there… ‘
‘ He cheated, of course. The question is how.’
What politician would likely have failed these tests? Who would have passed?
A large number of politicians are hard-working with a sincere desire to improve people’s lives. The problem is that without a proper vetting system, we do not know who is who.
We end up with legislators based on too much chance. Many may even have alarming personality disorders.
Apart from the narcissists, we have those who are not up to the job. Having a good heart says little about your capabilities.
A friend of mine worked as a civil servant for the central government in Sweden. She drafted background notes on the European Union for a prominent politician who was about to take up a high position in Brussels. Her Head of Department sent it back to my friend several times: ‘This is still too difficult for XX.’
Will a standardised vetting process guarantee well-behaved, empathetic politicians? Who will always make sound decisions? No. It is hard to predict someone’s behaviour, no matter how thoroughly you assess them. But we have a better chance of sifting the potential wheat from the obvious chaff.
Next time you see or hear a politician, imagine how they would have performed at a job interview. Imagine the questions you would have wanted to ask.
