fears.
As soon as my first interview with a candidate had finished that Monday, I ran to the accursed staff meeting. It was 11:05 A.M. , so I was late. I went into the room with a notepad in my hand and Closer under my arm. All the consultants were already sitting at the tables, which were arranged in a circle. They were all waiting for me.
Luc Fausteri threw me an icy look. On his left, Grégoire Larcher maintained his unchanging toothpaste smile. I sat down in the empty seat. Faces turned toward me. I placed the magazine on the table, face up with the title showing, and then avoided meeting anyone’s eyes. I was too ashamed.
On my left, Thomas was pretending to read the Financial Times . Mickaël was joking with the woman next to him, who was trying to scan La Tribune while chuckling from time to time at Mickaël’s idiotic remarks.
“The week’s figures are …” Larcher liked to speak, then leave the end of the sentence suspended in the air, assuring himself of our complete attention. He got up, as if to ensure his domination over those present, and went on, still smiling: “The week’s figures are encouraging. We’re up four percent on the number of recruitment assignments compared to the previous week, and up seven percent over the same week last year. With regard to this indicator, I remind you that our objective is to be up eleven percent. Of course, individual results are uneven, and I must again congratulate Thomas who remains at the top of the group.”
Thomas adopted a relaxed and absentmindedly satisfied look. He loved appearing to be the victor who’s too cool to care. In fact, I knew that compliments had the effect of cocaine on him.
“But I have an excellent piece of news for the others,” Larcher informed us, and then paused. As his seductive gaze swept over the group, he allowed the silence to make what he was about to reveal seem more dramatic.
“First of all, I must say Luc Fausteri has worked hard for you. For nearly a month, he has been analyzing all our data to understand in a rational way why some of you have better results than the others, despite all of us using the same working methods. He has cross-checked in every direction, done the stats, studied the graphs. And the results are pure genius. We’ve got the solution, and each of you will be able to profit from it on a daily basis. However, I’ll leave it to you, Luc, to present your conclusions yourself!”
Our section head, more serious than ever, began speaking in his usual monotone. “Going through all your time sheets, I saw an inverse correlation between the average length of interviews per consultant over the past twelve months and the average monthly sales of that consultant, corrected for any vacation he took.”
The room remained silent for a few moments, everyone looking questioningly at Fausteri.
“Can you translate that into French?” said Mickaël, bursting into laughter.
“It’s very simple!” said Larcher, immediately taking over. “It’s the ones who spend the most time on their recruitment interviews who get the fewest recruitment contracts from businesses. It’s quite logical, if you think about it. You can’t be in two places at once. If you spend too much time interviewing candidates, you have less time to canvass companies and sell our services, and so your results won’t be as good. Irrefutable.”
The team remained silent as the information sank in.
“For example,” Larcher went on, “Thomas, the best of you, spends on average one hour and twelve minutes on an interview, while you, Alan, at the bottom of the group—sorry, Alan—spend on average one hour and fifty-seven minutes. That’s almost twice as much!”
I sunk into my chair, while continuing to look at the table in front of me with what I hoped was a relaxed air. But there was nothing on the table but my Closer . I felt the weight of their eyes.
“No doubt we can reduce the length of our interviews,” said Alice, a young
As soon as my first interview with a candidate had finished that Monday, I ran to the accursed staff meeting. It was 11:05 A.M. , so I was late. I went into the room with a notepad in my hand and Closer under my arm. All the consultants were already sitting at the tables, which were arranged in a circle. They were all waiting for me.
Luc Fausteri threw me an icy look. On his left, Grégoire Larcher maintained his unchanging toothpaste smile. I sat down in the empty seat. Faces turned toward me. I placed the magazine on the table, face up with the title showing, and then avoided meeting anyone’s eyes. I was too ashamed.
On my left, Thomas was pretending to read the Financial Times . Mickaël was joking with the woman next to him, who was trying to scan La Tribune while chuckling from time to time at Mickaël’s idiotic remarks.
“The week’s figures are …” Larcher liked to speak, then leave the end of the sentence suspended in the air, assuring himself of our complete attention. He got up, as if to ensure his domination over those present, and went on, still smiling: “The week’s figures are encouraging. We’re up four percent on the number of recruitment assignments compared to the previous week, and up seven percent over the same week last year. With regard to this indicator, I remind you that our objective is to be up eleven percent. Of course, individual results are uneven, and I must again congratulate Thomas who remains at the top of the group.”
Thomas adopted a relaxed and absentmindedly satisfied look. He loved appearing to be the victor who’s too cool to care. In fact, I knew that compliments had the effect of cocaine on him.
“But I have an excellent piece of news for the others,” Larcher informed us, and then paused. As his seductive gaze swept over the group, he allowed the silence to make what he was about to reveal seem more dramatic.
“First of all, I must say Luc Fausteri has worked hard for you. For nearly a month, he has been analyzing all our data to understand in a rational way why some of you have better results than the others, despite all of us using the same working methods. He has cross-checked in every direction, done the stats, studied the graphs. And the results are pure genius. We’ve got the solution, and each of you will be able to profit from it on a daily basis. However, I’ll leave it to you, Luc, to present your conclusions yourself!”
Our section head, more serious than ever, began speaking in his usual monotone. “Going through all your time sheets, I saw an inverse correlation between the average length of interviews per consultant over the past twelve months and the average monthly sales of that consultant, corrected for any vacation he took.”
The room remained silent for a few moments, everyone looking questioningly at Fausteri.
“Can you translate that into French?” said Mickaël, bursting into laughter.
“It’s very simple!” said Larcher, immediately taking over. “It’s the ones who spend the most time on their recruitment interviews who get the fewest recruitment contracts from businesses. It’s quite logical, if you think about it. You can’t be in two places at once. If you spend too much time interviewing candidates, you have less time to canvass companies and sell our services, and so your results won’t be as good. Irrefutable.”
The team remained silent as the information sank in.
“For example,” Larcher went on, “Thomas, the best of you, spends on average one hour and twelve minutes on an interview, while you, Alan, at the bottom of the group—sorry, Alan—spend on average one hour and fifty-seven minutes. That’s almost twice as much!”
I sunk into my chair, while continuing to look at the table in front of me with what I hoped was a relaxed air. But there was nothing on the table but my Closer . I felt the weight of their eyes.
“No doubt we can reduce the length of our interviews,” said Alice, a young
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