I am a human resources professional with 15 years of industry experience. I interview people for a living, and I’m paid by large corporations for my expertise in assessing talent, determining candidates’ motivations and uncovering their hidden agendas. Yet when it came to hiring my own stepson, I let a family relationship cloud my professional judgment.
Five years later, my stepson Jeff is no longer my employee; he’s my competitor. Had I simply used my own professional knowledge from the start, and applied the interviewing guidelines I routinely follow on behalf of my clients when I interviewed him, the results might have been different.
Of course, that’s easier said than done. My business partner is my husband, Dave. It seemed only reasonable to bring his son into our business when he reached the point in his life where he wanted a real career. At 25, Jeff felt the need to establish a more meaningful and financially rewarding future. I convinced myself that I was making the decision to hire him based on all the right criteria. I assessed his desire, his skills and his sales ability. He met the standards. The fact that Jeff was family seemed at the time like icing on the cake.
I neglected to ask the other questions I always ask before anything else is discussed—the ones that help me determine a candidate’s motivation. I assumed I knew the answers because I knew Jeff. But I assumed incorrectly.
In the personnel consulting business, we tend to train our own eventual competitors, because a successful consultant is inherently entrepreneurial. I was relieved to have at least one employee I thought I could trust to put the interests of our business ahead of his own. It never occurred to me that my own stepson would take the path of employees before him who used our training and contacts to realize their own dreams.
It stood to reason that if Jeff were as capable and successful as his father, a 25-year human resources veteran, the business would be his some day. In the meantime, he would have the potential to go from earning $30,000 a year in a retail job to a six-figure income, based on revenues at our company. While that seemed like a pretty substantial improvement to me, I failed to uncover one very important aspect of Jeff’s personality. He is a child of entitlement and, as such, he felt he deserved more than money. In working for us, he was seeking the prestige, recognition, latitude and influence that he perceived was inherent in his position as the boss’s son ... and he expected those benefits almost immediately.
Jeff’s own agenda and intentions were always more important to him than the family legacy could ever be, and to us the legacy was what mattered most. As I look back upon my own goals when I was 25, I realize my hopes and aspirations are quite different now from what they were two decades ago. I expected the family relationship to overcome the impatience and eagerness inherent in most 20-somethings. It was a recipe for disaster.
I thought we made our expectations clear when we hired Jeff. Dave and I both went out of our way to explain to him that we would not tolerate any behavior on his part in the office that smacked of privilege. He had to earn his stripes, just like everyone else. He agreed wholeheartedly, but deep down in my businesswoman’s soul, I felt he was insincere. In spite of our insistence that Jeff would not be held to a different standard from our other employees, in effect this was what happened from the minute we began discussing his employment.
The warning flags were there, but I chose to ignore them because he was family. Even if working for us meant he had to move to the small town where we live—1,000 miles away from his hometown—he was family. Dave and I had lived in the same city as my stepson until 1990. As midlife approached, other family considerations—including the needs of my aging parents—came into play, and we moved to a small town. The change from the hustle and bustle of big city life turned out to be easy and enjoyable for us, and I foolishly assumed Jeff would make the transition just as easily.
Ordinarily I make it a rule never to refer a candidate to an employer if the geographic location is incompatible for any reason. Jeff’s hesitation about small-town living should have been a red flag to me. But again, in his case I ignored my own screening guidelines.
Even if this whole idea of becoming trained by his father was not Jeff’s to begin with but that of his fiancée, he was family. Even if it took him a year to finally pull up stakes and make the move—and only after the departure of a seasoned professional in our office who would have been senior to him—it didn’t matter, because he was family. Jeff had initially been offended by our insistence that this senior professional be a part of Jeff’s screening process. I simply didn’t put two and two together.
So we hired Jeff a full year after that initial discussion, following his inquiry as to whether our job offer was “still good.” He performed well at first, but within months, “the boss’s son” began to emerge.
Jeff grew impatient for more authority. I explained to him repeatedly that with a staff of just six people (including him and the two of us), there wasn’t room for another management layer. But in effect he promoted himself without our knowledge, talking to our employees about what would happen when he took over. Clients thought he was an owner because he told them he was. He demanded that Dave and I give him a say in business decisions, even though we felt he hadn’t earned it. The rift between us began, and Jeff’s disgruntlement grew. Meanwhile, one of our professionals departed because, I later heard, he couldn’t stand Jeff.
His last year with our company was chaotic. Jeff provided everyone in the office with unwanted daily details of his marital separation and his divorce proceedings. Such was his need for attention at this point that our attempts to suppress these conversations fell on deaf ears: Jeff simply continued these discussions outside the office. During those after-hours discussions, I later learned, he constantly undermined our ownership with complaints about our procedures, unwarranted references to himself as part of the “management team” and suggestions to a co-worker that he and that co-worker would eventually take over the business.
Finally, Jeff compromised our firm’s reputation by bringing a sordid part of his personal life into the office—he initiated an affair with a co-worker on company time. We called Jeff into the office to request that he use discretion in his romantic choices, keep his affairs out of the office and consider the company’s image in the future.
“It’s none of your business,” he replied. “You can’t tell me what to do. What are you going to do, fire me?”
My husband, who had wanted to shelve the discussion for a day, looked at me after Jeff’s final outburst, and I could almost hear his heart breaking as he spoke. “You’re wrong, son,” Dave told him. “You’re fired.”
At first Jeff was indignant, demanding we reconsider. Then he turned conciliatory, trying to coerce us into opening a branch office for him elsewhere. When it finally sunk in that our association was over, he became consumed with a rage that has never subsided.
Before he left, Jeff vented all of his frustrations. He hadn’t been given a management position; we wouldn’t let him train people; we didn’t give him access to the books; we wouldn’t spend money on upgrades he deemed necessary and appropriate; we conducted business as if we were in the dark ages; and we hadn’t appreciated his unique gifts.
After that, he arranged to move and open up as our competitor at lightning speed. He moved back to the city he loves and started his own firm. Perhaps that was what he’d wanted all along. Being terminated freed Jeff to leave without the guilt or responsibility of making the decision. It also gave him someone other than himself to blame.
The fallout in the ensuing two years has been devastating for our company. While non-compete agreements are standard in our business, they don’t apply across state borders—and even if they did, I had erroneously assumed such an agreement wouldn’t be necessary with my husband’s son. Our new competitor, now 31, is doing his best to secure business from our clients, crying foul for having been so callously dismissed by his own father—and with some people, this tactic has worked.
As for our family relationship, I have tried to speak to Jeff. But he says he has no interest in a dialogue unless it includes discussions of his “rightful inheritance.” In fact, one of his first questions following his dismissal was, “So, am I out of the will, too?”
To say Dave and I feel like meal tickets understates the case dramatically. My husband cannot speak to Jeff at all. He feels that his son has acted without regard to anyone’s feelings but his own and that his present behavior reflects on us negatively. I wouldn’t maintain a relationship with any former employee who has acted the way my stepson has. In expecting more from him, I ended up with less.
The feelings of responsibility I have for making such a devastating mistake can be overwhelming at times. Could I have prevented it? I don’t know. What I do know is that while you can never be sure how someone will perform once he’s hired, you can do your best to avoid making a bad hire, and your best doesn’t include assuming you know someone’s motivations simply because he’s family.
If I had it to do over again, I would have handled Jeff’s potential hiring the way I handle any other applicant. At the time, it seemed somehow inappropriate to ask standard impersonal questions of someone I loved. I know now that it is even more important to ask those questions when the emotional undercurrent of a familial relationship is involved.
Many father-son relationships work out beautifully in the business world. But I suspect that the rate of failure is growing as entitlement issues continue to creep into the workplace with family and non-family employees alike. Whether you’re assessing the boss’s son or a total stranger, the best advice I can offer is: Use your best professional judgment.
“Blanche DuBois” is a pseudonym for a human resources professional based in the Midwestern U.S. All names in this article have been changed.
From a human resources professional who’s learned the hard way to practice what she preaches, here are some guidelines for interviewing and hiring relatives.
The interview
Set the tone. The interview should be conducted by the person who normally does the hiring at your company, at the place the interviewing is normally done. I “interviewed” my stepson at my dining room table with his fiancée and my husband present. That act alone set him apart.
Follow company procedure. Make your family member do everything you have other applicants do. If he should bring a résumé, dress appropriately or fill out an application, make sure he does it.
Have a list of questions ready. Here are a few:
1. Why do you want to work in this industry? For our company?
2. Have you done any research on the company? What have you learned?
3. What is your understanding of what we do?
4. Why are you looking to make a change from your current employment?
5. What do you like about your current position?
6. What frustrates you about your current position?
7. What is your ideal position?
8. Where do you see yourself in a year? In five years?
9. What do you feel makes you a good candidate for this position?
10. Tell me about a situation in which you’ve been frustrated by a manager, a coworker or a decision. How did you handle it?
11. Tell me about a problem you encountered recently and how you solved it.
12. Do you have any questions for me?
13. Do you have any concerns that you wish to discuss?
14. Why should I hire you?
15. Describe your ideal boss.
This list is by no means comprehensive, but it may give you a starting point to formulate questions that are important to you and your business.
Provide a job description and a career path outline. This precludes any misunderstandings about responsibilities or promotions.
Sit back and wait. Don’t pursue him. Let the applicant follow up with you. We expect candidates to display interest through letters or phone calls reinforcing that they want the job and why and that they can do the job and why.
Set up a “field day.” Have your family member come in and interact with your staff; then get their feedback. You might be surprised what you learn about your existing staff’s attitude and your family member’s.
Get references. Past performance indicates future success. The tendencies my stepson displayed under our employ probably showed up in his previous position.
“Interview” the spouse or significant other separately. Explaining how this relationship will and won’t work to the in-law from the start avoids a lot of problems downstream. It also provides the opportunity to gauge the level of support your new employee receives at home.
Upon hiring
Provide a job description ... again. Prepare a complete job description for the new employee ... in writing. Discuss expectations and how performance will be measured. Discuss and implement a job review schedule.
Keep an employee file. Even if you hire your son, daughter, sister, brother or cousin, you must document the employee’s performance. I never thought I’d need proof of my position in regard to a relative’s performance, but I did.
Get a non-compete agreement or contract. If his intentions are honorable, signing it won’t be an issue.
Set a high standard. Your other employees will expect you to favor a relative. You must let your relative know that your expectations are higher where he is concerned. —B.D.