Here’s a fable: You are the CEO of a global corporation, sixth largest of its kind in the world. Your company has had an illustrious history, but right now things aren’t going well. Accounts payable exceed your receivables, your corporate buildings are old and falling down, and employees seem depressed and de-motivated. You’ve just held a staff meeting at your headquarters, with three hundred employees, on the top floor of your monolithic office building. As the meeting ends, you notice a young woman at the back near the door. You’d spotted her during your speech, diligently taking notes in a battered green-covered spiral notebook, the kind you buy at the grocery store. She approaches you.
“This isn’t mine,” she says, pushing an employee ID badge into your hands. “I’m sorry, I found it in the women’s rest room and I used it to crash your meeting. I actually work at the coffee cart on the ground floor, but I love your company so much, and I couldn’t pass up an opportunity to tell you how much I want to work for you.
“Let me tell you some things about me. I was my high school valedictorian. I’m number one in my class at the local state college. I work two jobs right now, but I could quit one and be an intern, unpaid even, just to get the experience of working for such a great company. I have lots of ideas—“ and she rattles off some, ideas that address the very areas your company is ailing in.
“Is there any way I could work here, with you?”
You might say, “Wow! Here, let’s walk over to HR right now and see if we can’t qualify you for an internship.” As a CEO, as a leader, you recognize talent, and, more than talent, the eagerness to belong that you know you can turn into powerful loyalty. She’s smart, she works hard, she has ideas. This young woman is the kind of resource your company needs right now.
That’s what you’d do.
Here’s what Meg Whitman would do. She’d say, “Thanks for returning the badge. My goodness, I’m so impressed by your energy and your commitment, but you don’t work here. If I gave you an internship I might be taking work away from some hypothetical existing employee. There’s no place for your talent and energy here. Go back to your coffee cart. And by the way—if I see you on this floor again I’ll call security.”
If you think I’m fictionalizing, read Whitman’s actual words to a Fresno State honor student here. (Except the part about calling security. I made that up.)
Real business people, real leaders, would recognize this young woman as a prize. They would rush to hire her, or, in the case of the real student, to help get her on the track to lawful resident status so they could hire her. That’s what a business person, or a leader, would do.
But that’s just not Meg.