The Satire Desk

A search firm's memo: rounds one to three are calls and a presentation; round four is a dinner for forty, cooked by the candidate in the office kitchen, logged as a team appreciation event rather than an interview. There is no budget, no rubric — warmth is noted on napkins — and the strongest applications will be invited to cook it.

A search firm's memo: candidates are asked “why do you want to work here?” in every round, scored on a Motivation Verification Scale, and placed in a fourteen-day cooldown for mentioning salary. Compensation is disclosed after acceptance, verbally, once, in a room with no pen. The mission is confidential; asking about it books a second call where they are told the mission is confidential.

A memo from a talent integrity group: the Live Human Proof Protocol asks candidates to wave, hold up three fingers, and put a hand in front of their face for eight seconds during video interviews. Eleven candidates were flagged for holding the hand beside the face. Candidates who pass are invited to a final round in person, conducted over video, because the office does not exist.

A memo from an ATS compliance desk: the filter rejected every applicant for saying “React” instead of “React.js.” A team lead applied to his own company under a fake name and was rejected in six minutes. There is no human review. Requesting human review requires a human, and the request form is reviewed by the filter.

A listing, retold as a memo: one Head of Copy at a small agency that has burned through four great hires in a year. Finalists submit a CV, two samples, and up to ten photographs from their public social accounts, which are sent to a licensed intuitive at $111 per aura. A blocked aura means no culture fit. The panel consists of the CEO’s ex, who is also the Head of Copy.

A listing, retold as a memo: a hospital’s doctoral-only recruitment round, in which every post requires a PhD — oncology, nursing, administration, logistics. The mop closet is now a research group. Shortlisted candidates explain to a panel why their doctorate qualifies them to order toner. Final-round candidates will be shown the toner cupboard and asked not to touch it.

A listing, retold as a memo: one senior AI engineer, remote, $180k–$220k, paid to whichever of you is real. The interview is conducted by a bot named Pat. Candidates place a hand in front of their face and confirm the second face behind the first is not theirs. Step four is a human, if available. The human is on leave.

A listing, retold as a memo: one chief of staff in Menlo Park, eight to eight, three-year chapter, nights and weekends “when needed.” No specific hourly requirement — the principal works eighty hours a week and expects the hire to keep pace. More than a thousand people applied. Salary to be discussed after the chapter ends.

A listing, retold as a memo: one Official Nose to smell the Turku archipelago for five to seven days, for 2,000 euros. No interview, no diploma, no experience — applicants submit an Instagram or TikTok video demonstrating the nose in question. The campaign is called “Get a Nose Job.” We did not name it. We would have.

A listing, retold as a memo: two shepherds for 3,000 sheep on 2,000 hectares in Inner Mongolia. 16,000 yuan a month per couple, no days off, minus forty in winter, weak signal, 300 km from the nearest city. Fifty-nine million views. Seven hundred applicants, including graduates and office workers fleeing “996.” “The role is not tourism.”