One week to go until I change roles at work, moving in to my 40-hour a week, Monday to Friday position as a writer.

I’m on the interview team to recruit my replacement. To get a job at the company I work at you go through a rigorous selection process designed to get the right person for the position. The understanding is that with 90% effort in selection, 10% of effort will be spent in managing the person. With 10% in selection, the person will require 90% effort in management. The essence of management is putting the right person in the right place and giving them a little push forward from time to time.

There are several interviews conducted by different persons, analyzing different aspects of the person’s “fit” for the position and the company.

This time around I’m responsible for assessing their “Organizational Commitment”.

Over the previous intakes I’ve developed a style based on the techniques used by the Iraqi Secret Police to interrogate my home boy Mike Coburn, of B Squadron 22 SAS, during the First Gulf War back in 1991. Injured and captured 300kms behind enemy lines Mike was subjected to weeks of interrogations by various seasoned professionals in Saddam’s Service. Mike and I went to the same school, Mount Albert Grammar School.

We open with some light banter about the applicant, where they’re from, what they like doing. Before they know it, they’re completely relaxed and at ease, the tension of the interview situation forgotten as the interaction degenerates into a light social chat. Just when they are at their most defenseless I casually ask: “So, where are you working at the moment?”

No sooner than they slip up and tell me that, the floodlights come on and the rubber hose comes out. With the rubber hose tapping on the palm of my hand I ask: “…and does your boss know that you are here today?”

Remember, I’m testing for “Organizational Commitment” here.

I kid, I kid…

The idea of Organizational Commitment that we’re after in this organization is like the contemporary ideal of monogamy: “One at a time” - rather than the jihadi “strap on the suicide belt - all the way to death” concept.

Here is another question that I pose to the applicant to see how they react:

“Tell me about a time when you willingly and joyfully allowed yourself to be exploited by the capitalist class - for example sacrificing some aspect of your personal life in order to make more money for the shareholders…”

I let the question hang in the air for seconds, as if waiting for a response. I know there will never be one. Then I smile and say: “Just kidding, just kidding!” Hahahahaha.

Applicants are taking the process seriously you see, so that are trying to formulate a serious answer, assessing what they think I want to hear or what will cast them in the best possible light. Little do they realize that this particular question is like a zen koan - it has no answer, and is designed to disrupt their thought processes, disorientate them and destroy their sense of reality so that we can find out which unit they are really from, and what their mission is.