By JULIE MIDDLETON
The psychologist phones. Good story on psychometric testing (Herald, August 4), he says. You're right, it's a very polarising subject. Why don't you come and sit a test that outlines your work personality?
Laugh, coquettishly. You joke, sir.
No, he's not joking. And he is also persuasive.
Date for the diary: one week out. Time to find an excuse to back out, like a bad case of short-stay, virulent, social meningitis?
The week speeds by. Agonise between duty to readers and duty to ego.
Readers triumph; a taxi disgorges its occupant - heart rate 140 - at PA Consulting in Nelson St, Auckland.
Psychologist Jeff Simpson is built solid, like a rugby player, but the Personality and Preferences Inventory nests in a very small laptop.
I wonder how long it will take him to uncover the unpalatable truths at present known by just one person in the world.
Decide reluctantly that truth is the best policy, because the machine is way smarter than Middleton.
The quivering subject is left alone with 126 questions. All are statements, all require one selection from seven. The range is from "strongly agree" to "strongly disagree".
Examples: "I am always a hard worker" (slightly agree). "I can't be bothered with theory" (slightly disagree). "I find it hard to hide my feelings" (slightly agree).
Easily spotted: questions to measure grease-up-the-boss quotient - "I like to please my boss".
Hesitate here, but remember warnings that procrastination beyond a few seconds leads automatically to a bland "neither agree nor disagree".
It has also been explained that the test has an inbuilt crap detector. Hit "slightly agree".
The next question causes a spasm of guilt: "I have never wasted any of my time". Given the chat-in-the-corridors quotient of the current week, hit "absolutely disagree".
You would have to be megalomaniac to agree with the assertion "I like to confront people". Ditto for "I find it hard to back down if I think I am right".
Social empathy probes are easy to spot and easy to answer, thanks to a not-repressed-enough Catholic streak.
"I have never told a lie" equals "absolutely disagree". Thankfully, no elaboration is required.
But the very last question astonishes most: "I have never passed on a rumour". Cannot lie, rumours are a journalist's oxygen. Hit "absolutely disagree".
Fifteen minutes later, finished. Fifteen measly minutes to ruin a lifetime's carefully constructed persona?
Yes, says the returned Simpson, forcing speed is one of the things that limits second-guessing. I move aside so he can crunch numbers. One clumsy movement sends a full glass of water tumbling; the laptop risks drowning.
Wonder vaguely if the subconscious is practising sabotage. But Simpson is remarkably tolerant as he lifts the Oracle above the waterfall.
I once had a candidate have an epileptic fit during a test, he says. Decide not to inquire if the candidate was a known epileptic at the time ...
Yep, that's just the way your brain is racing - a stream-of-consciousness struggle between morbid curiosity and a standing-on-the-brink-of-an-abyss fear, and if you're like me, the desire to laugh at the most inopportune moments.
A kind stranger - but nonetheless a stranger - is measuring your hard-wired social drives and your workplace persona, laying bare all comforting delusions about who you are and how you work.
You can't fool the test, says Simpson. "Simply, someone can't honestly score high on everything," he says. "If they do, they are either a very rare individual, or lying, or actually think they are like that and have very low levels of self-esteem."
There's one comfort. The database against which the quivering subject is measured - mine was the New Zealand general professional group - contains the results of tests on 515 other Kiwis, all of whom must have been feeling just as uncomfortable.
And doing such an assessment once in a lifetime may not be enough. Although Simpson says people profiles don't tend to "change drastically over time - we say that a person's profile has a shelf life of 12 months", the frequent job changes of today's professionals and the increasing use of psychometrics by recruiters mean you might come across variations on the above many times.
Proof of the relatively static nature of personality, says Simpson, comes from a tale of a 32-year-old woman he assessed twice, 16 months apart.
In the intervening time, she was diagnosed with a serious condition needing major surgery and underwent a long rehabilitation.
Then, out of the blue, her husband left her. She moved house, left her job and decided to go to university.
The results of her second profile indicated only one major difference from the first, says Simpson. That was in her emphasis on planning, which had previously been low and was now quite high.
And so to the results of my test. Even if you have a good handle on yourself and a robust ego, seeing the verdict in black and white seems uncomfortably final.
And (squirm) my profile does look like me. According to the test, I like to be told clearly what is required and have a clear idea of where I and my work fit in the picture.
I work fast and urgently - something no doubt honed by 13 years of voracious deadlines and (sometimes) screaming, stressed-out editors. I like getting things done ahead of time but still keep a close eye on details and accuracy.
I like openness, teamwork and good social relationships at work.
But there's no great evidence of intent to seek buddies for life in the office - friendships with colleagues tend to rest "at a more friendly and professional level". And I apparently have less need than others in the norm group to play teacher's pet.
I don't have much time for confrontational people or situations, or for distracted or needy colleagues. If I want something, I am more likely to take the persuasive, see-it-my-way approach than deliver a direct order.
Memo from psychologist to bosses (yes, the test supplies this, too): Give her boundaries, leave her to it and don't breathe down her neck. She'll expect any staff to work the same way.
Possible frustration points: colleagues or employees needing monitoring or emotional propping-up.
It is an unnervingly complete picture. But Simpson says employers using psychometric tests must use the results in conjunction with an interview, where the personality sketch can be explored.
Helpfully, the test results lead to a prepared list of focused questions for interview use that probe the nitty-gritty of your personality - and invariably don't allow you to get away with a glib answer.
And if they're squirm-inducing, it's because they pick on revelations uncovered by the test and start scratching. Again.
One asked if fast turnaround tendencies made me impatient with others (yes, though I wish I wasn't) and if I rushed things sometimes (yes, though I wish I didn't).
Another asked when an open style of communication had got me into a hole (ouch, and I'm not going to tell you how big it was).
It's not quite as negative as it sounds - but it gets right down to crunch-point detail.
"Personality assessments can and are used to help people gain some insight into what makes them tick," says Simpson. "The key is around what is done with the information gained - how it is explained and interpreted."
So why aren't we all rushing out to book ourselves a test and get a head-start on any would-be boss?
Fear, says Simpson, and the cost - $600. Even if you had conclusive proof of sanity and employability at a job interview, companies thinking of hiring you would still make you sit their own psychological tests.
PA Consulting Group
Coming clean on the real you
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