Rejection and Reality
The good: Melanie Formentin, a gifted former student and friend, received a fully-funded TA spot in the strategic communications management doctoral program at Penn State.
The bad: She also received the dreaded thin-envelope rejection letter from Ohio State.
I advised her to jump for joy over the former and forget the latter, but in the back of my mind, I cannot get the “rejection” out of my thoughts. Clearly, there is something amiss. I could spend this whole post chatting about Melanie’s strong points, ranging from her excellent work as a student and teacher to her clipbook (as thick as the NYC phone book) and the published article that we co-authored for Public Relations Review. She is simply a star performer and has the CV to prove it.
The broader issue that needs addressed, however, is the treatment people receive when they make these kinds of major life decisions, such as choosing a college or graduate school or applying for internships and jobs. Despite all the whiz-bang technology and talk about social media improving audience-organization relations, when it comes down to it, there is a communications breakdown between applicants and institutions. The situation is — in a word — reprehensible.
For many people, life can seem like a long series of formulaic rejection letters. Why, Melanie might ask herself, did she not get into a school that she invested a great deal of time and money applying to? The application process is literally and emotionally expensive. Yet, in so many cases, the thin letter is a mass-produced template. Even the signature is usually stamped. One pours heart and soul into the effort and in return gets a flaccid, shabby, and inhumane reply, utterly devoid of empathy. Writers and other creative individuals are also familiar with the form letter rejection.
The situation is even worse when one considers the employment game. We all have personal tales (maybe even dozens or hundreds) of applying for a position that seems as if it were written directly from our resumes, to then hear nothing from the organization regarding the application or its fate. Often, we do not even know if the position got filled, let alone the qualifications of the person who won it.
The easy answer is that organizations are inundated with resumes and that a personal reply is simply not feasible. Doesn’t this excuse ring a little hollow? I know that it does for the many people waiting to hear something (anything!) from the organization. Disappointingly, many of us have even heard stories of people who made it to the interview stage who never received a follow-up call, letter, or e-mail.
The sad aspect of this situation is that it constitutes a communications breakdown. Organizations fail themselves by taking the path of least resistance, which is basically opting to not be truthful with applicants, whether it is college admission officers or human resources directors. Furthermore, we fail ourselves by accepting this treatment. There are a myriad of convenient rationales for not informing people of why they did not get a particular job, scholarship, internship, or whatever the case may be. I assume that the underlying reason is the threat of potential lawsuits. Most organizations are much better at “CYA” management than treating people like human beings.
An article in The New York Times last summer confirms that the lack of response is on the rise. The piece correctly pins some of the blame for the gaping electronic hole on candidates who scattershot their resumes all over the Web, as if they are qualified for every job that appears. Still, is it too much to ask for some clarification? It would be difficult to quantify the cost of an angry applicant, but there certainly is a financial impact, particularly in an age in which companies seem willing to fight for the business of every individual they can get.
Returning to Melanie’s case for a moment, how difficult could it have been for someone on the search committee or an administrator to provide her with some feedback? College search committees are notorious for this kind of behavior, but Fortune 500 companies cannot claim the higher ground either. Laura Marcus suggests that job applicants request feedback, which can certainly do damage to one’s mental state, but at least (if truthful) would help the candidate prepare for the future.
Perhaps the larger issue at hand is that there is no clear distinction in today’s society between reality and unreality. The two are so intertwined that there is no hope for “the truth” to be revealed. Rather than provide honest evaluations, we hide behind form letters. Instead of thoughtful critique, one gets legalese — or worse — hears nothing at all.
What I have a difficult time delineating is whether most people would even want the truth. Americans are really good at evading the truth by wrapping themselves up in whatever popular culture impulse occurs at any given moment, so perhaps the truth would be considered in some way un-American. For example, as if telling a person why he didn’t get into the college of his choice would be keeping him from achieving his dreams.
I like to think that we are a bit tougher than that. And, we would be, if we lived in a culture that valued the kind of dispassionate evaluation that would be necessitated by such an environment.
Image courtesy of dbking at Flickr.com
March 8th, 2010 at 00:29
Hi Bob,
As always, thanks for the kind comments. I’m glad my rejection letter prompted this post, because I’ve lamented this for years.
I’ve been in the “working world” for nearly 10 years and can honestly say few things aggravate me as much as how organizations handle rejections. As you mention, there are dozens of stories I could provide of job-search communication gone MIA. Although I tend to excuse larger corporations that get inundated with applications (grudgingly, I might add), it does bother me that a doctorate program can’t be bothered saying more than, “We reviewed your file, but sorry, it’s not you, it’s us.”
My recent experience applying for Ph.D. programs definitely illuminates this. Frankly, I don’t care that I got rejected by Ohio State. But, yes, I would have liked something a bit more personal than a form letter. I applied to five programs, all of which I carefully researched for compatibility. (Maybe I should talk to eHarmony about starting an eDoctorate spin-off site?) Rejecting me without speaking with me seems curious.
Of course, maybe I’m strange because I don’t mind the cold, hard truth about why I was rejected from a job or doctorate program — I see that as a way to learn and take it as an opportunity to better myself. I regularly banter with my students about something similar. They moan about the fact that I return papers bleeding with ink, but don’t seem to understand that getting corrections/suggestions now will make them better in the long term. In my mind, a job/program rejection should be no different, especially if we’re talking about a doctoral program.
In a way I can accept the reality that maybe every organization or company doesn’t have the time to provide a personalized response to everyone who contacts them. And maybe that attitude is a product of the social environment I know — I just don’t expect anything better.
That said, I do hold institutions of higher learning to a different standard (fairly or unfairly). I dropped a day’s paycheck to apply to OSU and getting a form letter IS insulting and was not something I expected. No one pays to apply to jobs, and in my mind that’s what sets a university (especially at the master’s and doctorate level) apart from other corporate entities. Add in the fact that universities are, simply, universities. They should see it as a responsibility to guide and teach, even if they’re simply giving a rejection. A student pays to take a class – it’s my responsibility to teach by pointing out successes AND mistakes. Likewise, if someone is applying to a Ph.D. program, they should be treated as though they’re capable of rational thought and seeking an experience that will teach them, even if the lesson is a hard one. People don’t apply to Ph.D. programs as if there’s nothing better out there — it’s a commitment. The fact that I haven’t heard a peep from three of the schools I’ve applied to (unless I’ve contacted them) has definitely raised my eyebrow. I never expected the process to be quite as detached as it has been. If anything, it makes me value PSU all the more because they’ve made concerted efforts to speak with me, find out what my plans are, and even beat the mail by calling me to tell me they had an offer for me.
So there’s my rant. In other words, I agree with you (shock, I know). But this is also an experience I’m mentally bookmarking. As you know, I’ll never be happy just being a professor — I’ll get bored with that within a few years and will start working my way up the academic ladder. When I do it, though, I’ll definitely take a more positive communication approach than what I’ve experienced and at least will do what I believe is the right.
- Mel
March 24th, 2010 at 21:19
Well, I didn’t add the number and lost my comment so you will never know what I had to say on this…Melanie is awesome though!