The Four Hiring Syndromes That Sabotage Your Best Intentions

I've made some terrible hiring decisions in my career. Not because I'm incompetent or careless, but because I fell victim to the same psychological traps that derail even experienced managers. After analyzing my mistakes and watching others make similar ones, I've identified four common syndromes that turn well-meaning interviewers into their own worst enemies.

The scary thing? These aren't character flaws—they're natural human tendencies that feel completely reasonable in the moment. But they can destroy your ability to make good hiring decisions if you don't recognize and prepare for them.

The Mr. Nice Guy Syndrome: When Politeness Becomes Your Enemy

Picture this: someone walks into your office for an interview, and suddenly you're treating them like a guest in your home. You offer coffee, make small talk about the weather, and settle into your most polite, accommodating demeanor.

Then you spot a glaring two-year gap in their resume. Instead of digging in with tough questions, you gloss right over it. "Oh, I see you took some time off," you say cheerfully. They respond with something vague like, "Yeah, I needed a break." And instead of following up with the obvious questions—What exactly did you do during that time? Why two years? What happened there?—you just nod sympathetically and say, "Don't we all need a break sometimes?"

I've been there. It feels so awkward to press someone when they're sitting right across from you, looking vulnerable and hopeful. But here's what I learned: being nice during an interview isn't actually nice at all. It's a disservice to your company, your team, and honestly, to the candidate too. They deserve a thorough evaluation, not a polite chat.

The antidote? Remember that tough questions aren't mean—they're necessary. You're not trying to make someone feel bad; you're trying to understand who they really are and what they can really do.

The Fangirl Syndrome: When Admiration Clouds Your Judgment

This one gets me every time, and I bet it gets you too. Someone walks in with a resume that reads like your career fantasy. They worked at that company you've always wanted to join, with that executive you've followed for years, on that project you read about in industry magazines.

Suddenly, you're starstruck. Instead of conducting an interview, you're basically asking for autographs. "What was it like working there?" you gush. "That must have been incredible!" You spend the entire conversation hearing their war stories and living vicariously through their experiences.

Meanwhile, you learn absolutely nothing about their actual capabilities, their work style, their weaknesses, or whether they'd be a good fit for your specific role and culture.

I once hired someone almost entirely because I was impressed by their previous company. The interview felt more like a fan meeting than a professional evaluation. Three months later, when they weren't working out, I realized I had no idea what they were actually good at because I'd been too busy being impressed to ask the right questions.

Now when I catch myself getting starstruck, I force myself to refocus: "That's fascinating background, but let me understand specifically what your role was in that success and how those skills would apply here."

The Pick Me Syndrome: When You Forget Who's Interviewing Whom

Here's a syndrome I see everywhere, and it drives me crazy because I fall into it myself. Someone comes in for an interview, and instead of evaluating them, you switch into sales mode. You start pitching your company, your culture, your benefits package. You want them to like you. You want them to choose you.

"We have the best team culture," you hear yourself saying. "The work-life balance here is amazing. You're going to love it here." You're selling them on the job before you even know if they can do it.

This happens for a few reasons. Sometimes you're interviewing for a role that's been hard to fill, so you feel pressure to close any decent candidate. Sometimes the person seems impressive, and you don't want them to slip away. Sometimes you just naturally want to be liked.

But remember: the interview isn't about getting them to pick you. It's about figuring out if you should pick them. There will be plenty of time to sell the role if you decide they're the right person. During the interview, your job is to evaluate, not to convince.

The Shiny Thing Syndrome: When Insecurity Becomes Sabotage

This is the most uncomfortable one to admit, but it's real and it's common. Someone really impressive comes in—maybe more impressive than you feel on your worst day. Your boss has hyped them up: "This is a real superstar, a game-changer, someone we absolutely have to hire."

And suddenly, you feel threatened. What if they do get hired and they outshine you? What if everyone realizes you're not as talented as this new person? What if they become the favorite?

So you start looking for flaws. You interpret confidence as arrogance. You see ambition as selfishness. You find reasons to be skeptical. "I don't know," you tell your boss afterward. "Something felt off. They seemed like they might not be a team player."

I've watched good managers torpedo excellent candidates because of their own insecurities. I've caught myself doing it too. It's human nature, but it's also devastating to your team and your company.

The reality is this: hiring people who are better than you at certain things is one of the best career moves you can make. Great managers surround themselves with great people. Your job isn't to be the smartest person in the room—it's to build the smartest room possible.

The War Room Approach: How to Fight Back

These syndromes are sneaky because they feel so natural in the moment. The solution isn't to fight your human nature—it's to prepare for it strategically.

Before every interview, I now do something that feels tedious but works: I write down the syndromes I'm most likely to fall into for this particular candidate. Am I likely to be impressed by their background? Am I feeling pressure to fill this role quickly? Am I worried about their qualifications compared to mine?

Then I write down specific questions I need to get answered, regardless of how the conversation flows. What are their core values? Can they handle the specific challenges of this role? What are their genuine weaknesses and how do they manage them?

I treat preparation like I'm going into battle—because in a way, I am. I'm fighting against my own biases and blind spots to make the best possible decision for my team.

Never Interview Alone: The Power of Multiple Perspectives

The most important rule I've learned? Never hire unilaterally. Always involve at least one other person in the process, and make sure they understand their role isn't just to rubber-stamp your decision.

I literally tell my co-interviewer: "I want to hear what you didn't like about this person. Here's what impressed me—what am I not seeing? What questions didn't we ask that we should have?"

This isn't about being negative or looking for reasons to reject people. It's about getting a complete picture. My blind spots aren't the same as yours. The things that impress me might not impress you. The red flags I miss might be obvious to you.

Two perspectives are always better than one, especially when those perspectives are actively challenging each other to dig deeper and think harder.

The Cost of Getting It Wrong

Bad hires are expensive—not just financially, but culturally. They affect team morale, productivity, and your own credibility as a leader. Worse, they take up seats that could be filled by people who would actually thrive in your environment.

But the syndromes I've described aren't moral failings—they're predictable human behaviors that you can prepare for and counteract. The managers who consistently make great hires aren't the ones who've transcended human nature. They're the ones who've learned to work with it strategically.

So the next time you're heading into an interview, take a few minutes to think about which syndrome might trip you up. Write down your potential blind spots. Prepare your tough questions. Bring backup. And remember: being thorough isn't mean—it's the kindest thing you can do for everyone involved.