At what point in an interview process does a job become yours?

It’s Tuesday afternoon, part way through week two of unemployment (there should be a less depressing word to use). I’ve just given the garden what I really hope is the final mow and tidy of the summer. I’m sipping on a fresh coffee whilst typing this, enjoyed a one hour walk with Bella in the woods and even had a post lunch nap. 

What I’m getting at, is I’m really enjoying my break since my Sainsbury’s contract was completed. I’m very, very lucky, this isn’t desperation unemployment, this is a chance for me to slow down, relax and most of all, enjoy it. That said, I’d rather line up a new role sooner rather than later, but in the meantime, I’m making hay whilst the sun shines.

Lining up a new role is what brings me onto today's topic: at what point in an interview process do you start to feel a job is yours?

The reason I ask is that I've recently had three very different interview processes, for three very different roles, with three very different companies, yet the outcomes have all been incredibly similar. Not that I either did or didn't get a job offer, but that all three had me complete four-stage processes, get me pretty much to the point of offer... and then not.

Let's review them separately, all remaining anonymous, of course.

Process one:

A global consultancy, very much my bread and butter, albeit a slightly different, more hands-on role. Two virtual interviews, meeting the different team members, both stages passed. Then a face-to-face interview, which went brilliantly on both sides, they even asked me to come back the next day to meet the COO to 'rubber stamp things'. I did. The interview didn't leave me with a great impression, yet I still had a great feeling about the role and business, and answered each question strongly. Salary-wise, I was at the top end of the band, but that was always agreed from the very first conversation. The agency recruiter called to ask what else I had going on; I mentioned I was in conversation for a role with a higher salary, but that I liked this role and would strongly consider an offer should it arrive. It didn't. Instead, the recruiter ghosted me for four working days. Then they returned my call: they were offering someone else. The feeling was that I would leave after six months to pursue a higher salary.

Process two:

A recruitment solution platform, slightly different industry for me, but they needed someone with a tech background to lead a team of recruiters. Perfect. Two virtual interviews and a virtual task went very well, then came the 'rubber stamp' chat with a member of the leadership team. One question gave me real pause: 'How quickly do you fire people?' Not a question I'd expected, and it told me instantly that this probably wasn't the right culture for me. A shame, as everything else had gone so well. But fine.

Process three:

A Head of TA role with a household name and a business I was excited to work with. Two virtual interviews, both went really well, then a face-to-face interview, again, met two great people and the conversation went well. Then, you guessed it, 'rubber stamp' time! A quick 30 minutes with the Chief People Officer. The conversation could not have gone better; we had a lot in common and she was a delight to speak with, and all the interviewers left a great impression of the business. I expected a call a couple of days later to receive the offer. The call didn't come. A few more days went by, then I received an update: they were now deciding whether to cover this role internally for the 12-month duration of the contract, or offer it to me. I knew where this was going, and a couple of days later I received an email confirming the role was being covered internally. This one was a shame.

Three roles, different circumstances, similar outcomes. Missing out on three consecutive roles at the 'rubber stamp' stage definitely left me wondering what impression I was making at that final hurdle: was I too confident? Was I giving off a bad impression? Was I not likeable? But when you remove the personal feelings from an interview process and look at things in isolation, you can see far more clearly.

Role one: my gut feeling is that the salary conversation with the agency recruiter got a little blurred somewhere along the way; I was probably a little over budget, and there may have been a hope that once I got to offer stage, they'd either be impressed enough to increase the offer, or I'd be keen enough to reduce mine. Neither blinked. It didn't happen. I get it, I've been on the other side of exactly this in my agency days: hold both sides a little apart and hope the excitement of an offer closes the gap. It can come off. This time it didn't, and honestly, I'd much rather have clarity from the get-go and save everyone's time, mine included.

Role two: this was easy. I was asked, in my opinion, an awful question, which made my decision very easy. Whilst I didn't get that offer, I shared my feelings with the recruiter, and I'm highly confident that would have shaped the outcome. I wasn't right for them; they weren't right for me.

Role three: this one was a shame: a great company, with great people, but if they can make the role work without having to hire externally, I totally get it. My frustration is that this could have been decided pre-interview and saved everyone's time on a four-stage process for a contract role.

So, back to my original question: at what point in an interview process do you start to feel the job is yours? My answer: when you've signed the contract. And sometimes even then, wait until you've walked through the doors.

I'm sure there will be further pondering to come over the next few weeks whilst I continue my search, but for today, that's me.

The words are mine, grammar, very much checked with AI