We’ve all been there: sitting on a search committee, screening eligibility, interview notes and teaching presentations, trying to decide who to bring into our academic circles. We are talking about fit, collaboration and the balance between teaching and research. We refer to rules, required qualifications and preferred qualifications. We weigh experience, diversity, consistency with tasks and potential.
Sometimes, we are quiet without any warning, and we feel a subtle shift in the gut saying something is inconsistent.
For me, it happened in a campus interview a few years ago. Candidates have extensive material, solid experience and enthusiasm, and engaging ways. Throughout the formal interview, they said all the right things. Teachers are cautiously optimistic. However, when I drove the candidate to the airport at the end of the visit, things changed. They relaxed like anyone, and for a brief second, I saw their eyes. Perhaps it was a glimmer of contempt. It’s clearer than the characters we’ve seen before. This is a transformation of energy. There is a disagreement between how they behave and how they can cheer up now.
I put the feeling aside. After all, that was just a second. moment. Something I can’t explain. Have I read too much? Am I unfair?
Later, I reviewed the smaller details from their candidacy that had already made me pause. Their responses to scheduling emails were brief and slow, lacking the warmth or curiosity I saw from other candidates. These are not red flags of their own, but together they create a subtle uneasiness.
At that time, I was a relatively new assistant professor. I have no language or authority to improve my feelings in meaningful ways. So, I said nothing.
Looking back, I now realize that I can simply ask a question, such as: “Did other people notice that something is different or somewhat different from the candidate’s moments that are not very formal?” or “How does the candidate’s tone and energy feel during the decline between scheduled meetings?” These are not allegations, but rather a vacancy to reflection. Questions like this can invite others to surface, but have not been expressed verbally yet.
Intestinal sensation is in line with emotional intelligence
Intuition does not have to be the enemy of the process. In fact, it can be part of an emotionally intelligent recruiting culture – a culture of reflection, keenness and transparency. In this case, emotional intelligence is to adapt to the candidate’s appropriate human elements. This often stems from this adjustment when we notice gut reactions, whether it is a spark of enthusiasm or a worrying spark. What we call “intuition” is often the quick synthesis of subtle clues of our thoughts, from body language to tone, guided by our own experiences and values.
Emotional intelligence in teacher recruitment begins with self-awareness: adjusting how the presence of a candidate affects you (whether through curiosity, ease or discomfort) and asking what signals your reaction might send. It includes social awareness, noting how others react in informal moments and whether candidates are involved in a way that aligns with your department’s values.
Emotionally smart recruiting also requires self-regulation – slow down, back down judge and lean into the subjects of problems rather than hypothetical. It thrives in relational transparency, and committee members can share subtle impressions without worrying about being seen as “subjective.” It depends on the identification of morality: the ability to check whether these impressions are related to work-related behaviors, rather than unconscious bias.
Test our feelings
Intuition is not applied to override policies or protocols. It should be used to sharpen it. When something is frustrated, ask yourself
- Have I noticed a misalignment between candidates’ stated values and their interpersonal behavior?
- Did anyone else notice something similar?
- Is there a way to discuss it more in-depth in subsequent interviews?
- Can references provide insights about what I perceive?
- I noticed what is related to the abilities required for the job, or something unrelated?
If the answer to the last question is not clear, slow down. Re-examine the evaluation criteria. Looking for patterns. Talk to colleagues. Our job is not to be readers, but to be a community steward.
When intuition becomes wisdom
We often see emotional intelligence as gentle interpersonal interactions. But this is also very strict. It requires attention to its own biases, resisting overconfidence and participating in the entire emotional ecology of the recruitment process.
The truth is, teachers hired the change department. They shape culture, morale, collaboration and stability. We should attribute our institutions and ourselves to trust what we notice and reflect on it with caution.
Sometimes the most important insights don’t yell – they whisper. When we respect our intuitions to examine them and then root them, we hire the head and gut. This approach not only avoids heartbreak, mismatch and regret, but also builds stronger employees and healthier departments.
When we talk openly about our feelings (not just our scores), we build departments rooted in insight and trust.
