This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Baz Costello, 48, who lives in Brighton and Hove, UK. He recently decided to start his own company after growing frustrated with his job search. The following has been edited for brevity and clarity.
I was a consultant for a big digital consultancy up until November last year. I worked there as both a product lead and was also the chair of the neurodiversity employee resource group.
At the start of this year, I went back to contracting, and then I learned I had prostate cancer. It was stage one, and I was on active monitoring for six months. I did some more contracting up until July, when I was told I needed to have treatment. So, I had treatment, and all the signs were good. In August, I thought, “OK, I can start looking to go back to work.”
I spoke to some recruitment agencies and public-sector IT consultancies I had worked with before, and one of the things I picked up from that — and from searching on job boards — was that the number of roles had decreased.
When it comes to looking for work, LinkedIn becomes your daily go-to tool. For someone with ADHD, it’s a double-edged sword. You can set up filters and get told when new jobs are coming up. But it’s also this meandering pathway of links that you can disappear down for hours and hours. It can become another doomscrolling mechanism. I’m guilty of doing a lot of that.
I noticed a slow but steady increase in posts about “I’ve been out of work for six months” and “I’m going to have to sell my house. I don’t know how I’m going to look after my kids.” The negativity — it impacts you.
‘Too senior’
At one point, I got a message on LinkedIn from a recruiter who worked for a digital-transformation company who said, “We think you’d be suited for this role.” It was for a senior project manager. I had two video interviews. Both went really well, but one of the things I noticed was that executives were a lot younger than me.
I then got an email back asking to meet for 30 minutes with the practice lead. It felt like a check for cultural fit. She seemed to be a bit younger than me. We seemed to hit off pretty well. We talked about what I wanted from the role and what I could offer. Then, a couple of days later, the company said, “You’re too senior.”
You cannot discriminate against someone because of their age, but it happens in myriad ways. “Too senior” is one of them. So is “too much experience.” I asked for feedback and was told, “I wasn’t sure that this would be fulfilling for you.” I thought, “How condescending. You approached me about this role, and I’ve read the job description, and we spoke at length about the role with three people. Not once have I said, ‘This is beneath me.'”
Ageism is hidden in things like “This is a dynamic, fast-paced work environment” or “This is a work-hard, play-hard environment.” You take that to mean that on Friday afternoon, when we finish early, and all go down the pub, we don’t want people who have to go pick up their kids. It’s hidden, but it’s still there.
I’m Father Christmas in training
I’m 48. The problem is I look older. I’m Father Christmas in training. It’s gotten to the point where I’ve had interviews and thought, “Should I dye my hair? Should I wear a hat? Should I do something to try to look younger? Experience shouldn’t be something you have to hide.
I’m going to start my own thing. I have a concept for an app. I’ve been speaking with some non-executive directors and entrepreneurial advisors, getting advice and putting a strategy together. I have a background in product and technology. I can just bloody do this myself.
I’m coming off LinkedIn because I need a bit more positivity. The promise I’ve made to myself is that the day I return, my first post will be, “I am the founder of this thing, and I’ve come back to recruit. If you’re too old, I want your experience. If you’re too neurodiverse, I want your alternative perspective.”
Do you have a story to share about your job search? Contact this reporter at [email protected].
