Weekend Herald

There are lies, damn lies and there are CVs

Varnishing or plain telling porkies . . . whatever you call it, untruths about skills and experience will find you out.

- Alan Perrott

eez, everyone lies from time to time, so what’s the big deal? Especially when it works. Consider — and bear with me here — push- up bras, they aren’t so much about lying as augmenting reality. And if anything is the zeitgeist of these Trumped- up times, it’s an augmented reality where lies aren’t wrong as long as they reinforce your particular world view.

So is it such a big deal if you massage the facts in an attempt to get a job or secure a pay rise? After all, if it works, you gain an income and if everyone’s happy with your performanc­e then how is it anything other than a win- win, victimless crime?

I know I’m sorely tempted to have a crack, crossing over a certain age threshold carries with it an unspoken assumption of obsolescen­ce, so while I may baulk at suggestion­s to flat out lie, I am at least considerin­g leaving my age out all together. We all know that HR robots are only ticking boxes when it comes to shortlisti­ng candidates and that if only we could get an interview, any employer would realise what an incredible asset we’d be.

Lying even used to be an indication of chutzpah. We all know stories of people who got their big break by claiming they could do things they’d never attempted in their lives. Not only were they not done for fraud, when it comes to their eventual leaving do they are celebrated as risk takers, who took a punt to succeed.

It’s also common practice. In Britain, it’s estimated that one third of all resumes are less than honest. But who knows, it could be far higher, given that the people who get away it are hardly going to dob themselves in. And why? Because not only would it be pretty damned embarrassi­ng, you could end up doing time.

Take one of our more infamous cases. Canadian John Davy was a surprise choice when he was appointed chief executive of the Maori Television Service in 2002, but there was no denying his formidable CV, which claimed he’d served as a member and adviser to the BC Securities Com- mission in Canada, was a director of the Middle East Round Table for Internatio­nal Relations, had a Master of Business Administra­tion degree, and had written two books as well as the hit song Red Rubber Ball.

And all was well for six weeks until Herald journalist Louisa Cleave noticed his shoes — these were not the shoes of a successful man — and thought she’d do some digging. It quickly emerged that Davy’s CV was entirely bogus, from his top- secret securities work to Red Rubber Ball his pants had been in flames, so he was sacked, charged with fraud and sentenced to eight months in jail.

Then there was Mary- Anne Thompson who was convicted of fraud in 2010. Her claim to a nonexisten­t PhD from the prestigiou­s London School of Economics led to her running Department of Prime Minister & Cabinet in the Beehive be- fore being put in charge of the New Zealand Immigratio­n Service. Her appointmen­t had come despite a recruitmen­t company expressing doubts over her qualificat­ions back in 2004. She was simply asked if she had a PhD. “Yes,” she said. “Good enough for me,” was the gist of the response.

The whole embarrassi­ng mess could have avoided if Parliament had taken heed of the profession­als.

Steve Jackson is chief operating officer for Madison Recruitmen­t and says they go to great lengths to confirm the bona fides of every candidate’s CV they present to clients. When you’re in the business of shortlisti­ng potential employees for client companies, ensuring that each person is exactly who they say they are is essential.

When short- listing applicants to interview, and after a round of preliminar­y questions, judgments are made based on CVs: “However, when we get to interview stage,” says Jackson, “it is not uncommon to find that the competenci­es and level of experience is not as first thought.”

As a result, and before anything else happens, every jobseeker must sign a form confirming the accuracy of all the informatio­n they will submit while also acknowledg­ing that falsehoods could result in the loss of whatever job they may attract. From there they undergo an interview, followed by reference and probity checking and further cross- checking using whatever can be gleaned online. Madison are now considerin­g strengthen­ing this process further by contractin­g out CV checking to an external, specialist service provider.

It’s a process that has highlighte­d the most common lies — past achievemen­ts and why we’ve left jobs — and as each feeds into the fundamenta­l issue of competency, they are almost always found out.

If you have been stretching the truth and made it this far, you’ve probably done quite well given you’d have undergone screening, a behavioura­l interview, reference checking, psychometr­ic and skills tests, a police check, and, if necessary, a credit check.

So it’s over to you if you want to take the chance and if the risk still seems worth it you may want to consider your online footprint — if your privacy settings aren’t locked down you’re in for a rude surprise.

Still, Davy managed to blag his way through a similar process so it can be done. Just remember to check your shoes before you leave home.

 ?? Pictures / Getty Images, File ?? You can put your foot in it with your shoes ( left); former Maori TV CEO John Davy.
Pictures / Getty Images, File You can put your foot in it with your shoes ( left); former Maori TV CEO John Davy.
 ??  ??

Newspapers in English

Newspapers from New Zealand