Empty spaces, blank pages separate men from boys

Random thoughts on education, the job market, and why my position in life is infinitely superior to that of Bill Gates:

This is one of those columns the raison d'etre of which is empty space in the paper. It goes like this. "Oh, we're on deadline and there's an empty spot left. Lessee, all the stories are in. Do I have any filler? No? Sheesh. Well, (sigh) guess I could do a column. ..."

The empty spaces in newspapers, dear readers, is where we separate the men from the boys, the women from the girls, the wussie-pies from the ... well, you get the point.

There is simply no more existential moment than the one in which it is finally perceived, "You'd better come up with 750 words by X o'clock or your career is hamburger, buddy-boy."

Then comes the blank page. Now, a person can see the blank page as a forbidding challenge or a welcome opportunity. It's one of them "glass-is-half-empty-or-half-full" deals. Naturally you have to pick "half-full" because the alternative leads nowhere but to Funk City, U.S.A.

And thereby hangs a possible column. I mean, a guy could go on forever about how viewing everything in life as opportunity is real smart. I mean, it is true, you know.

But I'll spare you. Here at the Business Journal, we never take the easy way out. Nossir. We are gluttons for punishment. So here on the "half-full" page, in this half-full glass, let us take a different look at our section theme this week, education and the job market.

There was a time a few decades ago when the rules of the road in job hunting were pretty much hard and fast and not to be fooled with. Leaving more menial service positions and the obvious professions medicine, law, etc. out of the equation, employers generally wanted 1) a college degree, 2) a stable work background (no more than one or two past jobs), 3) conservative clothes, 4) a conservative haircut, and 5) shiny shoes.

I do not exaggerate; there were exceptions, but only the exceptions that proved the rule. As the late Bernice Michaelson, who founded one of California's wealthiest executive search firms, Wolfe-Michaelson, put it back then, "All things considered, a good haircut will take you further in the business world than any amount of genius."

The strictly formulaic approach to hiring began to go into the dumper in the late 60s, when businesses quickly perceived that there was a cultural revolution under way in which an enormous amount of talent was deliberately dropping out of the job market. Too many people, particularly the young, did not want to participate any longer in a society that placed rigidly structured standards of behavior and appearance before qualities that seemed far more important, such as compassion, kindness, creativity and resourcefulness.

This realization on the part of business soon led to relaxed standards of dress and a concomitantly expanding perspective in job recruiting. Businesses suddenly began to value and seek out individuality in applicants. It wasn't long before virtually every business of any size had hired at least one bearded, long-haired "house hippie," and once that hippie had his foot in the door, it wasn't that big a step to the appearance of the bearded, long-haired chief executive officer.

As for the de rigeur "stable background" job qualification, the CEOs of IBM, Ford and other megacompanies soon began talking about valuing first and foremost in upper-level management candidates broadly diverse job backgrounds, as evidence of "adaptability" and "flexibility."

Oh frabjous joy, calloo, callay. The workplace was changed forever, and with it, the society. The qualities that should be foremost in hiring if we're talking about fostering ingenuity moved to the top of the list. Without excessively stringent rules that shaped the work environment almost totally around appearance and formulaic behavior, many businesses, with more energy freed for innovation, became more creative, more productive and more profitable.

It's a bit of a simplistic account, but I'm tellin' ya guys, that's how it was.

Oh, about Bill Gates, my point would be this: Despite his billions, Bill Gates will never know the pure, unsullied joy of stopping at a garage sale on a fall day in Springfield, Missouri, and finding a videotape of "The Fabulous Baker Boys" for $1.50.

I rest my case.