The lies we tell to get hired

being 'the person' they want, playing the game, broken trust, and the 'survival mindset' in the workplace

Welcome to Bonded. New articles are posted every Tuesday. In my last essay, What no one tells you about being a manager, I reflected on the challenges of middle management—letting go of perfection, navigating tough truths, and building trust by showing up authentically with both your team and your leaders. If you want to write-in: ask a question, tell a story, or share a comment, please do so here.

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A couple of years ago, I was on the phone with a friend who was job hunting. She had been sending out resumes, landing some interviews, and waiting—weeks turned into months, and nothing was sticking.

One night, frustrated and exhausted, she said, “I’m going to tweak my resume.”

By “tweak,” she meant lie.

She listed a promotion she hadn’t earned and added skills she wanted to learn but hadn’t yet formally applied in her role.

I was shocked—not at her decision but at her boldness. I knew I wouldn’t have the guts to take that risk. 

But here’s the kicker: it worked. She got the job.

At a Fortune 500 company.

I couldn’t stop thinking about it.

Because what does that mean? That lying works? That pretending works? That this whole system is built on the idea that if you perform well enough, you’ll be rewarded—even if the performance isn’t real?

That broke something in me.

Not just because I saw her win. But because I knew she wasn’t the only one.

I’ve done it, too. Haven’t we all? Maybe not by lying outright, but by twisting ourselves into shapes that aren’t us. Saying the thing they want to hear. Being the person they want to see.

And when you finally get what you thought you wanted, it doesn’t feel like a win.

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Here’s the thing about hiring today: it’s broken.

Not just the obvious parts—like ghosting, algorithmic rejections, or unrealistic job descriptions. It’s something deeper, something systemic.

It’s what economists call The Cobra Effect.

The Cobra Effect is an economic term rooted from colonial India. The British government wanted to control the cobra population, so they offered money for every dead snake.

Sounds smart, right?

Except people started breeding cobras. Collecting the reward. And when the program ended, they let the snakes go.

The problem got worse.

I think about this story a lot when I think about modern hiring.

We’ve built these systems to filter out “unqualified” candidates. To automate and streamline and measure everything.

But all we’ve done is incentivize people to game the system.

We’re all just breeding cobras.

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When my friend faked her resume and got the job, I thought, Good for her. 

I get it—there are people who can’t afford to care about authenticity because their priority is survival. For many, a job is a means to an end, and nothing more. But what if that’s part of the problem? What if our entire system is built on the assumption that people will settle for less?

I couldn’t stop thinking about the other side of that story.

• What about the candidates who didn’t get an interview because they chose to be honest?

• What about the manager who thought they were hiring someone ready to deliver on day one?

• And what about my friend? She was so nervous that the hiring team was going to find out that she lied about her promotion. What might happen if her secret got out?

When dishonesty is rewarded, the cost is trust. And trust is the foundation of any good workplace.

It teaches us that success doesn’t come from authenticity but from bending the rules just enough to get ahead. It’s what people call playing the game.

And the same thing happens when companies lie. When they promise “a culture of growth” but deliver micromanagement. When they tout “work-life balance” but expect 11 PM emails.

We’ve built a system that rewards pretending. And if we’re not careful, that’s exactly what we’ll get: a workforce full of people pretending to care, pretending to fit, pretending to stay.

And it’s not just exhausting—it’s isolating. You lose pieces of yourself in the act, and so does the organization. When people feel they can’t show up as they are, they disengage. They withhold ideas, passion, and potential because it doesn’t feel safe to share them. Collaboration becomes superficial, trust erodes, and the culture crumbles under the weight of all the unspoken truths.

How can an organization thrive when it’s built on pretense instead of trust?

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What if companies stopped hiring for perfection and started hiring for people?

What if we all walked into rooms—not as the person we think they want—but as the person we actually are? And we’re just accepted, but celebrated for what we bring.

Maybe then we’d stop breeding cobras.
Maybe then we’d stop building systems that reward pretense and punish truth.
Maybe then we’d finally find something real.

Some companies are already making this shift.

Take Clipboard Health, for example. Their application process isn’t about where you’ve been—it’s about what you can do. You submit your resume. Then, you’re given a case study. You solve it. You showcase your work. That’s step one.

It’s not about crafting the perfect narrative. It’s about showing up as yourself. And showcasing what you’re actually capable of. It doesn’t need to be perfect. It just needs to show that you’re willing and excited to solve the problems they are trying to solve.

This shift matters.

Because when companies start assessing what people can do instead of where they’ve been, they build teams based on possibility, not perfection. They create spaces where people can grow into who they’re meant to be, instead of shrinking into who they think they have to be.

But it’s not just companies that need to change. It’s us, too.

We’ve been complicit in this system—editing ourselves, downplaying our truths, and telling ourselves it’s “just the way things are.” But what if it doesn’t have to be? What if we demanded more for ourselves, for our work, for our lives?

Here’s what I’ve learned: pretending is easy in the short term, but it costs us more than we realize. It steals the chance to care deeply about our work, to see the excitement and possibility in what we do. And it costs organizations the creativity, passion, and brilliance that only show up when people feel safe enough to bring their whole selves to the table.

The truth is, we deserve more.

The goal of work isn’t just to perform.

The goal of work is to build. To create. To trust.

To walk into a room—not as who we think they want—but as who we are.

To connect who we are to who they are.

Because when we stop pretending, we don’t just make room for trust.

We make room for transformation.