A recent interview I had went well with one exception. When asked to give an example of a mistake the candidate had previously made, he was completely unable to identify one. Not one. I’m almost certain, if I looked back over the past 24 hours since the interview that I would be able to identify at least a couple mistakes I’ve made. And that’s just in the past 24 hours. He couldn’t give me one over an eight year career.
This is ludicrous.
I suppose you could say it was a combination of nerves and false memory. Maybe, in the pressure of the interview, he was simply unable to identify a particular moment. Maybe it was simply that he was such a miraculous candidate that indeed he had never, ever committed a mistake. Unlikely, but possible.
However, a more likely explanation is simply this he is too proud to admit his mistakes.
If indeed this is the truth, it is a real shame.
Self reflection is a very important part of a person. It can help you evolve emotionally (reflecting on how you may have hurt a friend), professionally (seeking out professional advice where you may need assistance) and socially (a proud man is a bore to talk to). An inability to identify your own failings, over an entire career would indicate to me that you have completely missed out on every opportunity to make significant improvement. Without the ability to identify or admit to your own failings, you run the same risk of a driver that would run that not only never checks his blind spot but doesn’t even admit they exist; One day, you’re going to get yourself in a real fowl up of a crash.
Other social problems come out very quickly when you are talking to someone that never admits mistakes; they’re never wrong. They’re stubborn, sometimes beyond value. They close down on their point like a crocodile biting down its jaws on its prey. They twist and turn, each time more and more certain of their position and less and less willing to listen to others. They can, although not always, be rude to others that offer opposing views. When you have no intention of changing your perspective, listening to another person’s point of view is not only useless, it’s irritating. They often become short tempered since, really, why should I waste time listening to someone that is clearly wrong.
I learned to be humble in two separate doses; one while I was in junior high school and the second in university course on structures (the mechanical kind, not the software kind).
The first lesson was easy to accept as it was delivered at the hands of my elder in the form of a hockey coach over the period of an entire hockey season. Game in and game out I was proven to have one flaw or the other. With the encouragement of my coach, I swallowed my pride and continued to put my inadequacies on display until finally, at the end of the year, they had nearly all been erased.
The second lesson was much harder as it was administered by a fellow classmate – Derek Snider whom i name personally only to express my immense gratitude towards – in a course on structures. In the given situation, I was convinced, beyond reasonable doubt that the proper course of action for a project we were jointly working on together required us to move in exactly the opposite direction that Derek would have us go in. He was proposing what looked like, based on the evidence of the rest of the entire class, to be a radical and ludicrous idea. I was positive of my position and discussed it thoroughly with Derek. To his credit, he stuck by his position. Frustrated, I relented and we proceeded as Derek’s spreadsheet of calculations indicated we should, radically predicting results for our project that were significantly more successful than anything any of our other classmates dreamed possible. At the moment of judgment – it was literally a moment since the project involved building a paper bridge and then, over the period of about a minute, loading it with a force until its breaking point was found – Derek was proven wildly correct. His ideas were not only correct, but intensely accurate. His calculations were dead on. I’m not certain how, but I managed to keep the report from that project and, subconsciously I think, still keep it as a reminder of the value of humility. As it became obvious over the course of the project, I was wrong and was able to accept, grudgingly, that I could be wrong, dead wrong, in the face of my peers.
This second lesson drove humility deep into my heart and was an invaluable lesson. It makes me open to the possibility that, no matter how dead certain i can be of an idea, i must leave open the possibility that I am wrong. As a consequence, I now listen more intensely to others. I value the opportunity to be wrong.
So, next time you go to an interview and can’t answer the question of “What mistakes did you make in your last job?”, stop and think, honestly not only about the question, but also how honest are you being with yourself. The answer may be more valuable to you than it is to the person asking it.