Computer Industry Recruitment Failures 3. The curse

Robert Crowther Nov 2022
Last Modified: Feb 2023

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As Albert Fothergill said, the professional curse.

Professionals are those who are paid to do work in which they are academically trained. When I worked a bar, I learned a deal about the keeping and pulling of beer, but my training was not academic. So I am not a professional. The word ‘professional’ is also legal. A member of a body recognised to offer initials after the name.

Applications of Mr. Fothergill’s Curse extends a little beyond professionals. Sales managers are not professionals, but may be cursed.

The Curse

The Professional Curse is to believe, as you are trained, your work is correct. Those cursed are able to make expert statements and, due to this, believe their statements to be correct. Those cursed believe their work, because it is well‐paid, is valuable to others. Those cursed believe they can not be judged, as they are the jury.

A lifestyle theory, proposed by Albert Fothergill, and of obvious relevance to this discussion.

The Curse and the computer industry

Look, digging into the The Curse and applying it to the computer industry is another talk. Applied here:

Professionals believe what they say they believe. They rarely (however misguided their truth) lie. The professionals of the computing industry say they do not have enough recruits, so they believe they do not have enough recruits.

First, you need to know this:

Professionals never talk recruitment. I stand for you: teachers (in England). Paid less than other professionals, regarded by their neighbours as worthless‐near‐welfare trash, working under distracted and dictated conditions… the profession has recruitment problems. In a different profession, chemical engineers can buy a car every year, a house in a field, and spend their days measuring against glass etchings… the profession has severe recruitment problems. Neither profession, both ends of a societal measure, would go to a public arena to speak of recruitment. Neither profession ever has. Even teaching, where the problem has gotten so bad the government has of late taken to an advertising campaign (that’s right—England can’t find people willing to be teachers. Name me any other society, then or now? Still, let’s stick to computing).

And why would professionals not talk recruitment? With no proof whatsoever, I’m going to suggest why—agree or not, as you like. No profession would go public about recruitment because many people, even professionals, function using a crude Adamsian theory of economics. If the computer industry cannot muster recruits, then devotee salaries ought to rise. Rock‐basic application of supply/demand.

And… you know something? Professionals never, as principle, talk salt. To promote your high salary runs dead against professional etiquette. They’ll talk in corridors. Over generations, they may serve litigation. But they will not talk to a newspaper.

Ok, on that one, believe me or not. Consider that, even if you disagree, this may yet be true.

So, as they stand, the statements by the computer industry are bizarre. No other professional industry would air such statements pf grievance in public. No other professional industry has ever, to my knowledge, and whatever their position, aired such statements. I’d suggest the reason is because such statements may incite talk of salary. But I don’t think you’ll need a sociological survey to prove this. Think it through for yourself, Check a few interviews on television.

Why would computer scientists break professional code? Daft answer: because some imperative has pushed them too far. Now, what would that be?

Well, Curse Theory has something to say about this. Professionals need to generate a sense they are needed (I’m not going to defend this, but we’re talking here, and this is a main buttress of Curse Theory). Something that professionals do, they must feel is in some way vital to society—after all, they are the ones with the elaborate equations and the personal confrontations (Curse Theory does not say that all professionals act like this, but that it is a lifestyle tendency). So what in their profession have computer people to be concerned about? They can’t be concerned about working conditions—they are not handling radiation or scraping dirty oil. They can’t be concerned about self‐justification—unlike actors, who are regarded either as trivial celebrities or the descendants of prostitutes. They can’t be concerned about their income, as the salt outweighs mulch‐professionals such as estate agents. Unlike a vicar, they have no pastoral concern.

Yeh, that last example is interesting. Computer scientists need not be too concerned about the public. They have high public esteem. Unlike teachers or General Practitioners, they are not forced into class‐clash confrontations with the public. They are safely abstracted, more so than a biologist. Yet (unlike architects, say) computer scientists are in some sort of touch with the public. Computer scientists do make mistakes—they run robots through walls and blow up space rockets. But, unlike architects, who never pay for their mistakes, computer scientists get assessed. Politically, the fallacy is promoted that the computer can do no evil—programmers may code missile guidance systems, but never face the missile.

In other words, the client relationship of computer scientists is near‐ideal. Personally stimulated, but with small risk of nervous breakdown. Not remote enough to be lonely, but not close enough to raise a sweat. Financially rewarded, but people want those games on the shelf. Absolved of politics, but engaged enough to say ‘Hello’. Not far from perfect.

All of which leads to… computer scientists have nothing to complain about. But this is a downer. They are denied the most common professional let‐out—that without them their clients will suffer. Even actors are are brutally keen on saying how they bring vital work to the stage. Think of the Police stance that they are a thin line between civilised values and violent disorder. Now, that’s what I call a good justification. And the computer industry is here the poorest of them all.

At this impasse, what is the computing industry to do? Curse Theory predicts that professionals must have something to complain about. Something critical to society function. Something that makes them indispensable. But I suspect the computing industry has nothing much to complain about. Or has only one possibility—they can complain about recruitment. They won’t be very happy about this. It probably shakes them badly. It’s not the right thing to do. But, right now, they have no other way to get the show on the road.

So long as we buy some or most of this—and the application here—Albert Fothergill’s Curse Theory is sociological evidence. We can conclude that, however bizarre these statements seem—and in the case of professionals, they are unusual and without precedent—they must reflect a truth the industry believes. To restate, the computing industry says it has a problem recruiting. So the industry believes it has a problem recruiting.

But Curse Theory proposes the computer industry may be saying this to boost their self‐importance. Whether we believe the problem is as they say, is caused as they say, is as bad as they say, and can be resolved as they say, is for other talk.

Onwards, Next