There was a time — perhaps imaginary, perhaps last Tuesday — when employers believed they were hiring saints. Or at least people who could convincingly impersonate them between 9 and 5. References were scanned not for competence but for traces of halo polish. “Strong Excel skills” was nice. “Has never harboured an uncharitable thought” was better.
But here’s a heretical notion: what if we hired for skills, not morals?
This is not an argument for recruiting pirates. It is merely an acknowledgment that the workplace is not a monastery. If you need a bridge built, you probably want the best engineer available. You are less concerned with whether she occasionally rolls her eyes at slow walkers or secretly dislikes coriander. If you need code written, you want someone who can write code — not someone who has achieved inner peace and volunteers at weekends with orphaned hedgehogs.
Modern hiring sometimes resembles a search for moral unicorns. Candidates must demonstrate passion, empathy, ethical alignment, cultural sensitivity, and ideally a side hustle rescuing the planet before breakfast. Meanwhile, the small matter of whether they can actually do the job hovers awkwardly in the background.
Competence is not glamorous. It doesn’t trend on LinkedIn. Nobody posts: “Thrilled to announce I have hired someone who can quietly and efficiently manage payroll.” Yet payroll that is quietly and efficiently managed is a beautiful thing.
Of course, there are baseline standards. “Not actively malevolent” is a reasonable starting point. Basic decency oils the gears of any organisation. But beyond that, perhaps we can relax. The brilliant but slightly grumpy analyst may contribute more than the radiant team player who cannot analyse.
There is also a democratic charm in hiring for skill. It recognises that humans are complicated, inconsistent creatures. We are not our worst tweet, nor our most polished value statement. We are bundles of strengths and blind spots, talents and irritations. A workplace that expects moral perfection will be perpetually disappointed. A workplace that values ability might occasionally be pleasantly surprised.
In the end, a company is not a virtue-signalling contest. It is a collective attempt to get things done. If the trains run on time, the books balance, the patients are healed, the software works — that is no small moral achievement in itself.
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