I was once asked in a job interview how my previous employer would describe me. I responded with “competent”, and the room immediately fell silent. Both the women interviewing me actually paused in order to make note of this word on the pads of paper in front of them. As I listened to the disapproving scratch of their pens, I realised that by uttering a single word I had somehow completely ruined my chances at landing that job.
It bothered me afterwards. I alternated between cursing myself for not realising that this was the wrong word to use, and carrying on imaginary conversations in my head where I justified my use of it.
The word competent has fallen out of favour. When describing our achievements, we are supposed to use bigger, buzzier words. Assertive, organised, customer-oriented, focused — Any of these words might have gone over better in that interview. And I had been all of those things in my previous role — which is what made me competent. To me, competence was the ultimate achievement. To my interviewers, it fell flat. It implied that my accomplishments had limit, that I wasn’t striving for more.
Some time after this interview I read An Astronaut’s Guide to Life on Earth by Col. Chris Hadfield. I found in this book, along with many other words of wisdom, the best argument for competence that I had ever discovered.
