I admit it.I love to cook. It’s one of the few exercises that takes just enough concentration to keep your mind off of everything else. It doesn’t require so much focus you end up with the same headache you get when asked by your boss, “How do you measure the effectiveness of a hand sanitizer on production output?” (Note: This is why HR fears bad economies.) Cooking is an opportunity to create, build, display and consume a product in a few hours without having to make a PowerPoint presentation to justify its existence. So you can imagine my dismay when my simple electric hand held Sunbeam cake mixer sparked, puffed, and passed on into the great appliance afterlife.  This is not a life altering event, but it does require me to hop into the hybrid and set sail to the nearest Walmart in search of my next electric baking partner.

Again, this is not a major event in life, and not a lot of thought is going to go into my mixer selection because, after all, it’s simply a mixer. My total expectation for this mixer, if it were in a job description, would be summed up in one simple word…mix. Of course, after HR gets hold of it, I expect it would look something like this:

Responsibilities: 
 “Capable of combining diverse substances into a cohesive unit suitable for use in a production environment”

My mind wanders as I head toward the household appliances.  I fully expect this will be no more than a five minute selection process. I completely understand the “job expectations” for the mixer, I know what is needed to complete the tasks I expect of it, and, for me, I expect that the single consideration point for my decision is going to be price (hence the Walmart instead of Crate & Barrel).

What happens next caught me completely by surprise.  I found over a dozen (their website lists over 200) cake mixers, all asking me to hire them for my job. I am flooded with information on multiple speed settings, motor wattage, display features, colors, and storage capabilities. All of them meet the basic requirements for the job in that it seems they all “mix,” but now I have to consider all of the implications of each mixer’s benefits and measure them as to the potential advantages each unit presents. I have to consider the potential expanded uses for the higher end mixers and look into the future to determine if I will ever need to beat an egg at the speed of sound. I will need to decide if I will want to display my mixer in the kitchen as a symbol of my cooking prowess much like people place bread makers on their counter to make people think they are healthy. (Disclaimer:  I love my bread maker because its idiot proof.)

I find that I am now a hiring manger with a whole slew of candidates, and I need to decide who to hire. So begins the first lesson every person working or seeking work needs to remember.

You may be completely qualified but still not get the job. At this moment it will all rely on my gut feelings, what additional features peak my interest, and my focus on price. The main difference here between my mixer selection and your job is I get to return the mixer if it stinks. (You on the other hand would get a performance improvement plan and justify the existence of HR – not on my list of things to do.) No mixer currently on the shelf should take it personally that I do not select them because they are not what I want at this moment. This is the life of a mixer on the shelf.

I immediately eliminate 2/3 of the mixers because they are over my idea of what a mixer is worth. Executive level mixers covered in chrome that could do the job are just too expensive for what I need and, unless they are “on sale,” they are dropped from the list.

In my final group of candidates, one sticks out. It is housed in a black plastic case with the accessories held securely in separate compartments. The case resembles a hard tool case that would house a power drill. Not perfect for my counter, but I never intended to display it. The maker of this mixer (which you could consider its resume or at least its LinkedIn page) is Black & Decker. The impressions I get are solid, tool, dependable, and respected. My brain can’t quite wrap my head around the fact that a cake mixer is made by Black & Decker, but then I could never get past the concept of Madonna selling children’s books.  I buy the mixer from Black & Decker.

The purchase was not the cheapest mixer, but in my price range. It stood out as being extremely competent at what I needed…mixing. Its reputation was impeccable, if not unconventional. It inspired me to look at what I needed in a different way. In short, it was unique and it sent that message to me in its packaging and branding. It stood out.

Now there is something that must be said for the poor slob in Black & Decker who came up with the idea to create a line of cake mixers. I am sure there are meetings in the company where the best and brightest are saying, “We are running out of ideas for new ways to make a saw cut” and I believe that many in Black & Decker said this was a horribly bad idea. I am sure someone said, “If Betty Crocker made table saws no one would buy it” (and they are probably right), but somewhere in the decision process this creative idea took hold and I would bet that the creator of this idea is still employed. In fact, this kind of creative shift shows the ability to challenge all kinds of traditional corporate thinking and certainly saved a few jobs in the process.

As much as it hurts to say, surviving in today’s workforce is centered on being a great tool. Being efficient in the basic tasks but inspirational and unique in your potential as an employee are lifesaving qualities. It will help you find a job and it will certainly be instrumental in keeping it.

One last thing, if Black & Decker can make a cake mixer I would buy, you can break out of your industry and open the potential for changing industries, jobs, and careers. Look at what you do well first, and then look at companies that need that skill. You may not change from payroll clerk to rocket scientist, but then….you just might!