I have never met Derek Mobley, a black man in California, but we have one thing in common.
AI killed our job searches.
Mobley is the guy who sued Workday, an AI hiring system used by thousands of major corporations and governments. His claim: that Workday’s AI-powered screening tools unlawfully reject qualified applicants based on age. Mobley says he applied to hundreds of jobs and often received rejections within minutes or the very next day, suggesting human eyes never read his applications.
That lawsuit is now a class action, and I’ve joined it.
I started looking for a job 2.5 years ago, at the age of 60. I have a law degree and a doctorate of veterinary medicine, more than 15 years’ experience in communications, 12 years in veterinary medicine, a Pulitzer Prize, a published novel, and I’ve started and run two successful businesses. I’ve worked for a governor and a U.S. Senator, been managing editor for a magazine and capitol bureau reporter for a major metropolitan newspaper. I was tired of practicing clinical medicine and thought I could pivot nicely into scientific writing and editing, animal public policy, or regulatory science.
Boy, was I wrong.
I didn’t really consider my age relevant. I still published the occasional article, kept up on technological changes, had a social media following of more than 24,000 on Bluesky. I just figured I would find an employer who needed someone with a background in medicine who could write.
Like Mobley, I applied for literally hundreds of jobs. All online. Some on the Workday platform. Some on other AI platforms like Dayforce, Monster, ADP and ICIMS. Jobs with titles like: health medical writer, public health science writer/editor, medical editor, and copy editor.
And like Mobley, I couldn’t get an interview.
Not one.
It wasn’t until I paid $200 for a career coach’s initial consultation that I learned all I was doing was feeding the Automated Tracking System machine, and no human was ever casting their eyes on my application. It wasn’t that there were mistakes in my resume – it was that I had 40 years of experience, and the ATS was only looking at a quarter of that. If the bot couldn’t find what it wanted – everything that it wanted – in the past 10 years, I was pitched aside.
To add insult to injury, my degree combination was atypical, and AI isn’t known for creative thinking. Where a human might think that two diverse degrees were, at the least, worthy of further inquiry, AI considered me in violation of the parameters.
The career coach had three pieces of advice. First, strip my resume of all veterinary medicine education and experience and pretend it never happened (as if it were something to hide). Secondly, strip all dates out of the remainder of my resume, and cut out all but 10 years of experience. And finally, dye my hair. “No one hires people with grey hair,” he said.
The first two changes landed me interviews. The last, I did and then regretted it.
But shrinking myself down to fit an AI-generated ideal did not result in a good job match. Eventually, I just decided to retire and seek part-time employment – something that piqued my interests and would give me fresh air, instead of ulcers.
So when I saw the advertisement for a part-time Ungulate Keeper at the Denver Zoo, I was delighted. I had practiced large animal medicine for 7 years on the Western Slope. I treated yaks, alpacas, llamas, horses, goats, sheep, and cows (all of these are ungulates). I knew how to responsibly and humanely handle hooved animals, and what to watch for to ensure they were healthy. I reconfigured my resume and applied to the listing online, making it clear the low hourly rate was fine, and that I was retired from veterinary medicine but hadn’t forgotten my herd management skills.
I received a rejection at midnight on the last day the job was posted – a key sign that the Automated Tracking System had kicked the resume out of the running. No one’s sitting in the HR office at the Denver Zoo screening resumes at midnight.
We hear a lot about all the promises and benefits of AI. But its power is daunting, and its potential to hurt people is real. I should know.
There’s legislation currently in front of the general assembly that would demand the kind of transparency and accountability needed to protect people. Not only atypical job seekers like me, but also people looking for housing, appropriate medical treatment, and a fair financial shake from lenders. Let’s hope our representatives have the guts to stand up when it matters.
Michelle Dally is a Denver writer, lawyer and veterinarian who recently joined the People’s Alliance for Responsible Technology (PART) to advocate for Coloradans harmed by AI.
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