Welcome to the show—I’m Claire Monroe with Edwin Carrington. Edwin, I want to start with a scene that makes a lot of hiring managers a little uncomfortable. Candidate walks into an interview, answers quickly, smiles at the right moments, tells a clean story about a conflict with a coworker… and everyone walks out thinking, “great communicator.” Then three weeks into the job, their emails are muddy, stakeholders are confused, and somehow every meeting ends with less clarity than it started. Yes, and the uncomfortable truth is that interviews often reward polish, not performance. We confuse verbal fluency with effectiveness. Someone can be articulate for 45 minutes and still struggle with the kind of communication the role actually depends on. That 45 minutes is the trap, right? Because being smooth in a conversation is not the same as writing a clear update every week for six months… or explaining a messy situation when things go wrong. Exactly. Communication is not one skill. It’s a set of behaviors. Clarity, listening, adapting to your audience, handling tension without losing precision. And most roles rely on a very specific mix of those behaviors, not just general confidence. So when someone says, “I’m a good judge of communication,” what they’re usually reacting to is… what, exactly? Presence? Confidence? Someone who sounds like them? Usually charisma, coherence, and shared style. And shared style is the subtle one. If someone communicates the way we do, we tend to rate them higher. If they pause more, think more visibly, or communicate in a quieter way, we may underrate them—even if their actual work output would be stronger. Yeah, I’ve seen that. Someone sounds impressive in the room, and then you see their actual output and it’s… not terrible, but things are missing. No clear next step, no ownership, details slipping through. That’s where instinct and evidence diverge. A candidate can perform well in conversation and still struggle with writing, stakeholder alignment, or precision under pressure. Those are separate behaviors, and if the role depends on them, you have to assess them directly. So a “good communicator” isn’t one thing. It depends on the role. In customer success, it might mean calming an upset client and setting expectations. In a manager role, it might mean giving clear feedback and aligning people who disagree. That’s right. And I’d add one more layer. In many roles, communication is essentially decision-making made visible. The email, the meeting, the update—those are outputs of how clearly someone thinks. That’s… a much higher bar than just sounding good in a conversation. It also explains why interviews miss it. Because most interviews are just… two people talking. Yes, and that’s not useless, but it’s a weak signal on its own. If you want to know whether someone can move work forward, you have to give them communication tasks that resemble the job. So instead of asking, “tell me about a time,” you actually have them do the thing. Exactly. The design is simpler than most teams expect. First, define the communication tasks in the role. Not abstractly, but concretely. What does this person actually have to do each week? Write updates, handle difficult conversations, prioritize requests, deliver feedback. So not “must be a great communicator.” More like, “must turn messy information into a clear executive update” or “must respond to upset customers quickly and clearly.” Precisely. Then build small, realistic scenarios. They don’t need to be elaborate. They need to reflect the pressure and context of the role. After that, you score with a consistent rubric. That consistency piece feels important. Because if one candidate is judged on vibe and another on detail, you’re not really comparing anything. You’re not. And that’s why structured, work-sample assessments tend to outperform unstructured interviews. They measure what someone can actually do, in context, while reducing the influence of charm and first impressions. Give me a concrete example. Let’s say we’re hiring for customer success. All right. Start with a short written response. A customer says a launch failed and they’re frustrated. The candidate writes a brief reply—six to eight sentences. You evaluate clarity, empathy, and completeness. Did they acknowledge the issue, explain next steps, and avoid vague reassurance? Six to eight sentences is tight. You can’t hide in that. Exactly. Then a role-play. The interviewer acts as a frustrated client. The candidate has a few minutes to ask questions, reflect the issue, and reset expectations. Next, prioritization under pressure. Multiple messages arrive at once—what do they handle first, and why? And finally, you apply the same scoring rubric across all candidates. And now “good communicator” actually means something. You can see it. Did they ask the right questions? Did they clarify the problem? Did they create direction? Yes. Now you’re evaluating performance, not polish. And the same approach works across roles. Managers can be tested on feedback and alignment. Salespeople on follow-ups and objection handling. This is where most teams hit friction, though. Because even if they agree with this, building and running these assessments consistently takes effort. It does, which is why tools become useful at that stage. If you want structured, job-relevant assessments without rebuilding the process every time, that’s where something like OAD fits in. So instead of relying on instinct and hoping for the best, you actually build a system that shows you what people can do. Exactly. And if you’re wondering how to put this into practice, you can test OAD’s tools—like behavioral assessments—for free at o-a-d-dot-a-i. It’s a straightforward way to make communication skills visible before the hire, not after. Which would save a lot of those “three weeks later” surprises. Thanks for listening to The Science of Leading.
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