I’ve sat on both sides of the interview table enough times that I don’t really think of one person as the interviewer anymore. If I’m hiring, I’m trying to decide whether somebody can do the job and handle the responsibility I’m about to give them. If I’m applying, I’m trying to figure out what I’m actually walking into.

A job posting only tells me so much. I want to know why the position is open, what happened to the last person, what a normal day actually looks like, and what usually gives new people trouble. I want to know what the schedule looks like when things aren’t going according to plan, because that’s usually when you find out what the schedule really is.

I also want to know what the person across the table considers good work. If they can’t explain what success looks like before they hire me, I’m going to remember that. Expectations have a funny way of getting very specific once somebody screws up.

That’s one reason I care about clear expectations when I’m the one doing the hiring, too. I don’t gain anything by selling somebody a version of the job they won’t recognize two weeks after they start. The applicant is listening to me just as closely as I’m listening to them, and the hiring process is already telling them something about the organization.

I pay attention to how people talk about former employees, too. If everybody who left was lazy, stupid, disloyal, ungrateful, or couldn’t handle the job, maybe they really did have the worst hiring streak in America. But I’m at least going to consider the other possibility.

None of that means I’m looking for a perfect job. I’ve taken jobs knowing there were tradeoffs. Sometimes the opportunity is worth a bad schedule. Sometimes the job you have now is worse. Sometimes there aren’t ten other choices sitting around waiting for you.

I can decide what tradeoffs I’m willing to make.

I just want to know what decision I’m actually making before I say yes.