Recruitment in large public sector organisations is often described as rigorous, fair and transparent. And in many ways, it is. Structured processes exist for good reasons: consistency, accountability, equality and auditability all matter. But I increasingly wonder whether the way these processes are designed genuinely helps us recognise the talent we say we are looking for, particularly in communications and engagement roles.

Communications is a profession built on judgement, creativity, emotional intelligence and the ability to adapt to context. It is about understanding people, shaping narratives, reading a room and knowing what not to say as much as what to say. Yet when it comes to recruitment, we often assess these skills through systems that prioritise compliance over capability.

The typical application process asks candidates to input every role they have ever held, every qualification they have gained, and then produce a supporting statement that methodically evidences each element of a person specification. This document is not designed to communicate with a real audience. It is designed to satisfy a framework.

The result is predictable. Supporting statements become formulaic by necessity. Candidates mirror the language of the person specification. They write to prove coverage rather than convey insight. Many strong applicants end up sounding identical on the page, not because they lack originality, but because the structure leaves little room for it.

This raises an uncomfortable question. Are we genuinely surprised when applications feel generic, or have we created conditions where that is the safest and most rational response?

There is also a growing, often unspoken assumption that applications will be pre-filtered, whether by automated scoring, keyword matching or AI-supported shortlisting. When that is the backdrop, it is entirely logical for candidates to optimise for the system rather than the human reader. The craft of communication becomes secondary to the mechanics of getting through the gate.

In communications and engagement, we often say we want people who can think strategically, work creatively, build trust and bring energy to complex environments. Yet we rarely assess those things in recruitment. Instead, we rely on proxies: written evidence mapped to criteria, delivered in a format that is itself unrepresentative of the work.

What if we accepted that a supporting statement is not, in itself, a good test of communications skill? What if we used CVs to identify relevant experience, then assessed capability through practical tasks that reflect the reality of the role?

Asking candidates to create something, a short piece of content, a campaign reflection, a brief video explaining their thinking, would tell us far more about their judgement, audience awareness and storytelling ability than a perfectly structured form ever could. It would also allow different strengths to surface. Some people think best visually. Others shine when speaking. Others excel at strategic framing. A single written format flattens all of that.

If communications and engagement is about people, relationships and connection, then how we recruit for those roles should embody those principles too. The process itself sends a signal about what is valued. At the moment, that signal is often compliance first, craft second.

Perhaps it is time to ask whether that is really serving us, or the profession, as well as it could.