HR and SOP

I have this sneaky suspicion — no, actually, I’m almost certain — that all the HR Managers who recently added me on LinkedIn are secretly using my posts to update their SOPs.

Oh, they might deny it. They’ll say things like, “We just really appreciate your authentic voice and fresh perspective.” Meanwhile, they’re screenshotting my content faster than someone trying to grab concert tickets when Beyoncé announces a surprise show.

I can picture a secret HR group chat somewhere:

Janet from HR: “Did you see Alex’s latest post on candidate experience? Copy-paste that energy into our next rejection email.”

Todd from Talent: “Brilliant. I just updated our ‘Why Work With Us’ section with half his post. We sound like humans now.”

Martha from HR Ops: “I replaced ‘We wish you the best in your future endeavors’ with ‘We see you, we value you, and please don’t block us forever.’”

Gary from Compliance: “Is this what it feels like to have a soul?”

Next week, rejection emails will start arriving like:

“We think you’re an absolute rockstar and we can’t wait to see where your journey takes you. Sadly, this isn’t a match right now. Here’s a voucher for a coffee. You deserve it.”

Meanwhile, I’m just sitting here trying to remember if I put the laundry in the dryer or if I’ll be forced to wear damp jeans for the third time this week.

Soon we’ll see job descriptions saying things like, “Must be able to show up, be kind, and survive at least three rounds of unexpected layoffs.” Interview invitations will read, “We’re not just excited to meet you. We’re emotionally invested in your entire arc as a human being.”

Somewhere, a recruiter is re-writing the classic “We’ve decided to move forward with other candidates” email to say, “This was harder than deciding what to watch on Netflix. You’re amazing. We’re devastated. Please stay magical.”

Career pages will soon read, “We’re a collective of messy humans learning and failing forward together. We don’t have ping-pong tables, but we do have a pulse and we promise to actually tell you if we ghost you.”

At first, I thought I was imagining things. But when the same HR folks who ghosted me years ago suddenly start liking my posts, commenting “Love this!” and adding me as a “thought leader,” the plot thickens.

I feel like the Robin Hood of LinkedIn. Stealing sterile corporate jargon from the castle and giving it back to the candidates in the form of warmth and plain English.

And to the HR folks reading this right now while quietly highlighting lines to use in your next handbook update: it’s okay. You don’t have to pretend. Pull up a chair. We’re all trying to figure it out.

Because if my content helps even one candidate feel less like a number in a spreadsheet and more like a living, breathing human worthy of respect, then borrow away. Use the words. Rewrite the playbook.

All I ask is that you finally retire “We’re like a family here.” No one wants to join a family that schedules surprise layoffs on a Friday afternoon.

Carry on, HR friends. I see you. I’ll keep the posts coming. Just remember to give credit where credit is due — and maybe send a coffee next time.

Now, back to my feed and that one terrifying “per my last email” message waiting in my inbox.