Rachel Reeves and Jonathan Reynolds have made me feel like a right fool this week. Over the past few days, both the Chancellor and the Business Secretary have been caught bending the truth on their CVs. Reeves exaggerated the length of time she worked at the Bank of England, overstating it on LinkedIn and in interviews. She also described herself as an “economist” when her role was in retail banking. Meanwhile, Reynolds falsely referred to himself as a solicitor, despite never completing his training.
Neither has apologised, and the response from the public has been muted at best. This whole affair has left me questioning: am I the only one who hasn’t been lying on their CV? Because if this is the norm, then I’ve clearly been missing a trick.
A culture of CV lies
This isn’t the first time I’ve come across people being liberal with the truth when it comes to their job applications. Years ago, as a university student in Coventry, I lived with three fellow economics students. One housemate returned from an interview in London boasting about how he’d impressed the recruiters.
We asked what questions they had asked him, trying to prepare for our own interviews. One question was about overcoming challenges. He had confidently told them about launching his own student media publication and working with a neighbouring university before setting up his own site, which he now ran as editor-in-chief.
The problem? He hadn’t done any of that. I had.
Yet he landed the job, and I was left wondering how many others had done the same. If a brazen lie could secure someone a post-grad job, then perhaps my commitment to honesty was actually a hindrance.
The gendered reality of job applications
Research has long shown that men are more likely to apply for jobs they aren’t fully qualified for. The often-cited Hewlett Packard report suggests men apply when they meet 60% of the criteria, whereas women wait until they tick 100% of the boxes. A LinkedIn study from 2019 backed this up, stating that women tend to “screen themselves out” of jobs they don’t feel fully qualified for.
Given this disparity, I suppose it shouldn’t be surprising that some men may stretch the truth to make up that missing 40%. But what really bothers me is that Rachel Reeves, a woman in one of the highest offices in government, has joined in.
Men lying to get ahead is frustrating but expected. Women doing it? That feels like a betrayal.
When did lying become acceptable?
It’s not just politicians, either. Popular culture is reinforcing this idea that you can lie your way into a job, and if you’re good enough, no one will care.
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Take Industry, the HBO drama about young finance graduates. The lead character, Harper Stern, bluffs her way into an internship at a top firm by pretending to have a degree in economics. Or Suits, where Mike Ross fakes having a Harvard Law degree and manages to build a successful career in law before being found out.
Both characters are eventually exposed, but their talent means they still end up on top. The lesson? If you’re good at your job, your lies don’t matter.
Where does this leave the rest of us?
If our politicians and pop culture are telling us that lying is fine, provided you don’t get caught, where does that leave those of us who have played by the rules?
Maybe I’ve been naive. Maybe while I was busy meticulously crafting my CV to reflect my actual experience, others were tweaking theirs to sound more impressive. And if Reeves and Reynolds can get away with it, what’s stopping everyone else?
So, am I the only one who’s not lying on their CV? Have I missed some secret meeting where we all agreed this was fine? If so, please let me know. Because at this rate, I might have to start.
