How I Know When a Recruiter is Lying to Me

For many tech professionals like me, the call or email is all too familiar. The script goes something like this:

“Hi Morgan, this is John Doe from IntelliProSystemTechSourcingOneSolutions, Inc. I have a position open for X at an amazing company, and I really think you’d be a fantastic fit for it, give me a call back at…”

In an industry where openings exceed qualified people to fill them, I expect heavy recruiting and searching. I know that while you’re trying to be friendly and helpful, you are engaged in a sales job and you want me to take the interview, land the job, and sign on the line that is dotted so that you make the commission for placement. I don’t begrudge you making a living. But I know some things you usually either are uninterested in or purposely don’t tell me.

I know you don’t know me, and have no investment in my career. I do, however. I appreciate politeness, but I also appreciate it when you’re direct. You found me via a boolean search on LinkedIn or Dice or Glassdoor or some internal database your company somehow put me into, and you’ve spent approximately 15 seconds with my resume or profile to find those several pesky keywords your client is demanding. I am not your client, the firm you’re playing headhunter for is. You don’t care if you’re offering a contract to replace my permanent role and it’s only for 6 months halfway across the country, but I do. I regard you with some suspicion because you’re not interested in my priorities or how taking your gig will impact my life and career.

I know you don’t understand the difference between the technologies you’re looking at, even if you talk a good game. You don’t have to in order to do your job, but you do need to understand that different words have different meanings, and proficiency in one platform or tech stack doesn’t mean I know all of them. For example, “cloud technology” is a nebulous term encompassing multiple platforms with no similarity, and Java is not another form of Javascript.

I know you won’t be honest with me about the most important details of the terms of the consulting contract. You’re not going to tell me what the contract burden, aka markup, is (although I’ve often been privy to this info once I’ve gotten inside the company, since I frequently do team budgets in my role, so maybe that policy should change). I know that you will typically charge 25% burden for my services, maybe up to 35%. I also know that if you’re not a reputable firm, you’ll have no standard and will use this obfuscated visibility to minimize what you pay me and instead will pocket the rest for your company, which is sleazy, for the record. I have no idea, unless I’ve worked with you before, if you’re reputable or not. I know your health benefits will most likely suck and will be very expensive comparatively.

Also, I know you won’t volunteer any information on what conversion will look like if your client wants to bring me on full time. For example, is there a buyout? How much is it? After what point does it cease to be in effect? Is it simple, or do I have to resign, wait, and then be hired? And despite your claims to the contrary, you really don’t know how likely the company is to hire me.

I know there’s a decent chance you won’t want to pay me what I’m worth, for aforementioned reasons. I’ve had recruiters try to argue for me to take a pay cut, and I know that’s out of desperation, but it’s also shameful. I know if you want me to relocate, you won’t follow the cost of living indexes and you’ll offer me a minor increase that will equal out to a reduction in pay. I know that 95 times out of 100, you’re not going to admit this or why this is the case. I also know that job could most likely be handled remotely, especially watching how quickly the workforce has pivoted due to the Covid crisis, so you’re helping to push a mandate that is unnecessary.

I know that you have no idea who you actually have a good relationship with and who you don’t, and you think you’ve got an inroad with everyone, but some places are upset over something your firm did once and barely acknowledge your existence. I know that the “right to represent” you want me to sign is actually a useless document with no power. I know that I have to control who can submit me to a role, because many will try to submit me to places I’ve already been submitted to, and that will automatically disqualify me, and some of you don’t care about the risk for me because you’re more concerned about the commission (or you don’t know that wrinkle yet). I know bad recruiters have grabbed my resume, shopped me without my permission, and then I’ve gotten flak from people I know asking “Why are you job hunting right now?”, and if you’re a bad recruiter, you’ve done this and you’ll try to get my approval afterwards. Speaking of bad recruiters, if you call me up and give me some sales pitch line like “We’ve got relationships with nationwide and very large companies,” you’re both not good at your job and you’re bluffing until you find something you think I’ll take. My world is about specifics, please give me them.

I know above all else that while I don’t judge you or look down on your profession, I am also, like many of my ilk, cynical. I see the migration patterns on LinkedIn (“Congratulate Ashley for starting a new position as a Recruiter at Company X!”). I know your training is more about presentation than substance. I understand my worth and the substance of what I do. I’m the guardian of my career. You may or may not be of benefit to said career, but I’m probably going to assume when you first contact me that you’re not. It’s nothing personal, it’s just what I’ve learned I have to do.