I’ve just put my CV through an AI screening tool that will tell me what other Recruitment Ais’ would think of it. Apparently, it’s crucial, because gone are the days when it was Camilla, the 45-year-old talent acquisition manager, who rejected your CV. Today it is R2-D2, the AI recruitment software, that will send you emails that start with ‘Thank you for your application’. So here I am, asking a robot for another robot’s validation, wondering if the world has gone mad or if I have.
Becoming sad over this AI’s lack of validation reminds me of middle school when you would ask your crush’s friend what your crush thinks about you.
“So, what did he say about me? 🙈”
“He said that ur cute but that u don’t quantify ur achievements enough 😭💔”
I sigh at this feedback. I’ve already milked my achievements to the max, demonstrating how I’ve boosted my old company’s social media engagement by 67 per cent. But there are only so many times a girl can brag about increasing a company’s Twitter likes from two to five.
What else can I quantify? How often my old boss complimented me? Am I supposed to impersonate those automatic satisfaction surveys?
“Good job, Dora!”
“Thank you, madam. Uhm, since we’re having this conversation, would you be able to rate, in terms of percentages, how much better I am at doing a ‘good job’ compared to your average intern?”
Not only is this AI screening tool trying to reduce me to a public restroom feedback machine, but it’s also accusing me of being the dirty toilet. Either way, I’m done asking for its validation.
I close my laptop and tell myself that if the AI hasn’t passed the Turing test, then I won’t find its opinion threatening enough. If it has, well then technically it should be no different to that boy in middle school, and the only way to get his validation is to stop asking for it.