Self-Assessment Tests and How to Fool Them (and in the process, yourself)

By Conor | September 5th, 2008 | 3 Comments »

As first year students at NYU Stern, we have a course called Teams and Leaders. It is not graded. I believe it is mandatory for all students, meaning nobody placed out of it by virtue of being a kick-ass teammate in their previous employment.

Now, let me say that I think the concept of Teams and Leaders is a good one. It pervades virtually every field that we will find ourselves working in, unless you’re going into a uniquely individualistic position, like Junior Vice President for Swimming the English Channel or that monkey that we launched into space.

And I am sure that we are learning a lot. But it is a different kind of learning, where we are learning about ourselves and life. Which makes it sound like a yoga class, but far more practical (yoga people, don’t even start with me). In fact, I think it may turn out to be one of the more valuable things we do this semester.

Teams and Leaders has us working in our study groups, made up of six students each. There is not much of a syllabus. I’m not sure how you would describe what we did. But let me go ahead and try, because I need something else to do besides starting my Accounting homework.

In the beginning classes of Teams and Leaders, we focused on Discovering Who We Are. Business school, for those of you who are curious, at least at Stern, issues several self-assessment tests (I chose “several” over the less fair but perhaps more accurate “skuz-zillions”). I think the idea is to discover what kind of teammate we are, and to better understand those in our study groups.

As much as I want to make fun of the concept, those tests are actually interesting. You get a sense of how people work, which, like it or not, really is useful in moving forward considering how much time we will spend with those other five people.

The thing is, you really start to identify with the principle “trait” that describes you within the diagnostic test. I, for example, turned out to be a Shaper. Shaper! That’s me! I shape things! And people! Or something! I didn’t quite read what characteristics that meant I was supposed to have, but I do know that the little picture beside Shaper was a whip, and I thought that was pretty cool because whips are totally bad ass. I think other people were “Plants” which means they had lots of good ideas and all but they only had a light bulb as their symbol and whose ass can you kick with a light bulb? Nobody’s ass, that’s whose.

Although I think the plants are the ones with all the ideas, and between you and me and my pooch (she can see me typing) I super much wish I was a plant. They seem really smart.

I still dig that whip though. Whhich-ah! Whiich-ah!

(Those are whip sounds, FYI…….yes, as a matter of fact, that is EXACTLY what a whip sounds like – think about it. ….Fine, you try. No, go ahead, you’re the big whip expert around here, you try. Go on, we’re all SO interested in hearing what a REAL whip sounds like from a REAL whip-sound-making expert person.)

Those self-assessment tests, called Belbin Tests, were interesting in the confines of our study group, though perhaps less so when gauging the impact they would have on our lives and careers.

For that kind of impact, my friends, we must turn to the numerous other self-assessments we took, which were designed to inform us of our skills and maybe – just maybe – give us a sense of the type of field we should go into.

Again, my own opinion is that these tests are extremely useful. However, I must believe that I am not alone in saying that I dreaded each one. The reason is that we are all – in the dark corners of our minds – petrified that the results of these career tests will somehow be automatically forwarded to somebody who will then choose our careers for us, like the Dean of the School or the President of the United States. And then that will be that.

I don’t want to speak for others, so I shall only speak for myself. I try to game each and every one of these tests, without actually lying, of course. I remember the first one I ever took, back in sixth grade, and I was determined for it to come out that I was destined to be a world famous marine biologist. Why in Sam Hill I wanted to be a marine biologist, I cannot answer. It wasn’t even one of the options available, so my chances of being pegged as the next great marine biologist by my teachers were exactly zero. But I’ll be damned if I didn’t give high value marks to any question concerning math, science, and anything that was even vaguely nautical sounding. In the end, I think the test recommended I become something utterly irrelevant to my answers, like a trout shepherd or a cartwheel instructor.

Unfortunately for me, these tests have gotten far more sophisticated, and they seem to actually be fairly accurate. The Lord in Heaven knows I did all I could to steer myself away from the non-profit world as I answered my questions. Not because I don’t love non-profit – after all, I am still the proud Executive Director of Next Generation Nepal and my heart is still there – but I need to find a career where I can support my family as well.

So when the test asked “How important is it that your job has meaning?” I made a dark check-mark in the box labeled “Not at all.” When it asked “Do you want a job where you can help society?” I snapped my ballpoint in half and poured the ink onto the “No” box. Even though I really do.

Despite those crafty efforts, the test still pegged me as a help-society kind of guy. And I have to say that I really do love that kind of work, especially now that I can do it together with my wife Liz, who is passionate about it. And we will always, always be involved with the children in Nepal.

But just to make sure, I managed to “misplace” that test within about a minute of completing it. Right before it was sent to the Dean’s office. And then went to the presentations on anything related to finance.