The Soul & Science of Talent | The New York Times Chief Human Resource Officer Jacqueline Welch

There's a lot to the origin story. I definitely think when it comes to careers, some people fall into their careers and some are called. I feel I was called. I started with a very specific view of myself as a physician. I imagined I would live and work in a small town, carry a black bag, make house calls. Now that seems hilarious because there were no physicians in my family. I didn't have that reference point. There wasn't even Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman on TV. Where this vivid imagination came from is a mystery. To make a long story short, I went to school as a premed major, had what I'd call an early midlife crisis, realized medicine wasn't for me—it was more commercial than I understood. I changed my major to English because I like words and reading, after good counsel from my parents. I started my career in retail as a merchant with Lord & Taylor, then consulted for a number of years with two global brands. It was 10 years out of school before I landed in HR. There was a specific moment as an undergraduate doing a co-op at a local nonprofit focused on getting residents job-ready. The first person I placed into a job after his probation period came back open-faced crying to thank me for giving him a way to provide for his family. That's when I got the call. I wanted to be in personnel—back then it was personnel—and that changed everything.

It's such a delicious and nuanced question. The way you phrased it, you're romantic. I wish it were that romantic. It's hard to know precisely what the dials were all these years later. But I am the child of immigrants and grew up working class. Those two things don't always travel together, but they did in my case. In my immigrant family, success was doctor, lawyer, accountant, teacher—or marry one. I think doctor was one of a very few choices that would signal I had made good on all the things my parents invested in me. But now with distance, I can draw a line between the work I do now and my ambitions to be a doctor. There is connectivity around helping people. I help people differently now. I probably came to that rather than it being the impetus for these decisions.

I will say curiosity. That's become a thing people talk about a lot now. I'm still in an abiding relationship with my first-grade teacher. She said to me once I became an adult, 'You were one of the most curious students I've ever had.' It wasn't curiosity like 'I know the answer but I want to demonstrate I'm smart.' It was literally 'Why? But why? But why?' That has always been my go-to in terms of entering into conversation, into relationship. I'm not afraid to not know. Every expert started off as someone who didn't know but loved a thing enough to become smart. I've never had inhibition around not knowing the answer. I'll go find out.

It'll be four years in January. I am your quintessential COVID hire. I was here six months before I'd met anyone other than my boss. That was surreal. I still don't know that I've fully processed what that was like, taking on a big job in that context.

It's important to say that my relationship to the Gray Lady is not particularly unique. Any number of my colleagues have a similar story. I literally have been reading the paper since I was 10 years old. I learned how to fold it so you could strap hang safely on the subway. Coming from an immigrant family, The Times was the guide of what this country is, the politics, the culture. It's an artifact of my becoming an adult. To work here—I always take calls from search professionals, not because I'm always on the prowl, but I believe in the economy of being a pass-through. Jason Hanold called me and said 'The New York Times.' For me, it was 'Where do I sign? What's the question? I can start tomorrow.' I was at Freddie Mac with no plans to leave. There was no push. At this age and stage, the ability to have my values permeate everything gets higher. At Freddie Mac, I took pride in saying I work for a company that makes home possible. There was no reason to leave. I wish that for everyone—that choices are not out of duress but because it's an expression of your skills and talents in a context more deeply aligned to who you are. The Times' value proposition was: how do you not want to work for an institution that defends freedom of the press and keeps people informed?

It comes down to culture. Everything I say from this point will have a place under culture. Here at The Times, being part of an institution old enough to have covered the Civil War, tied to the preservation of a free press, speaks to people's genuine desire to be part of something with a history that predates them and will continue long after they depart. For every organization, find your value proposition beyond returning value to the shareholder. What does this institution do? What mark will it make? How do we communicate that to people who work here and those who endeavor to? Moreover, what are your practices and tools to ensure value alignment? My pattern recognition tells me performance starts to dip when values separate, when people aren't intrinsically motivated because they believe in what the institution is doing. That begins a spiral of ineffectiveness. If you dig deeply, it's often not about ability but will. That will is tied to 'I don't feel this is a place where I can do my best work.' Culture is the unlock to all those things, and the bedrock of culture is values.

As one practical example, here at The Times we 'behaviorized' our values. In our performance evaluation process, we ask if the individual is comporting themselves in alignment with our values. It's a pass/fail question. The intention is to provide direct feedback on where they did or did not comport. To complete the circle, all talent practices should be an ecosystem. Even at the front end of the interview process, the values are part of what we test for. Independence is huge. We talk about what happens if we print a story you don't agree with. Before you walk in the door, here are our values. Let's have a transparent conversation about your ability to comport to them. Next week I'm going to all four offices to roll out updated values. If your culture needs reigniting, it's important to reexamine those values and see if they need tweaking based on the performance you're trying to drive. We haven't changed our values since we started the company, so I hope it works.

I don't know. I'm a minimalist. I don't subscribe to 'more is better.' I'm more of the mind that what's memorable is better. Whatever the number is that you could go to any person in the institution and say 'What are our values?'—that's the number. Can you remember them? Are they memorable and meaningful? That's the criteria. To dodge the urge to do the obvious ones, I like to use Independence as an example. Most institutions don't need to call out Independence, but we say 'Do nothing that contaminates the integrity of the journalism.' So Independence is one of our values. I think partly it's what values support who the institution is and what it does. That should drive the values, and what's most memorable and sustainable should determine the number.

How 'outsized' is always for someone else to determine. I tend not to focus on what's brand new or market-leading. I'm a pragmatist because my work touches people. How many times do you want to poke somebody with a new thing? You exhaust people. I look for what accomplishes our objectives, is sustainable, and gets people to buy in without feeling burdened. To your question, our publisher A.G. Sulzberger wrote an amazing treatment of what we mean by independence and the implications of the attack on free press. One thing we've done as part of talent acquisition is we literally say, 'Go read that, then we'll talk about scheduling interviews.' That's a great demonstration of an institution that can fully articulate what we do, why we do it, and what we stand by. Being able to communicate that to a candidate and to employees is underappreciated. The other thing is less a tool and more a mindset. I grew up hearing 'I know a guy who's a perfect fit,' which is an unconscious recommitment to what you already are. If you're looking to evolve, do you want someone who fits or someone who adds? If you go with 'adds,' you're signing up for a little friction. You hire someone who doesn't necessarily comport or have the same background, but you see their ability to add. Have clarity around that. Even in announcements, say 'Jackie is not quite what we've seen before, and that's why we hired her.'

Setting aside that most people have to work, most institutions need people. It's incumbent on the institution to have a clear sense of what we do, why we do it, how we do it, what we stand for. There's a punch list of high self-awareness. Then stand firmly on those things as we evaluate who comes through the doors. Do we see them adding value? Once inside, it's a two-way street. The obligation of the individual is to have clarity about their skills and how they can best utilize them in service. When I interview people, I always ask 'Why this job and why now?' I'm listening for thoughtfulness. Did you just land here? That may be okay, but you need to communicate it well enough so I know you're investing your time and talents for the long haul. I have respect for people who say it's a stepping stone. Now I know I likely won't have you on a succession plan, but I have two or three years of things for you to do. At least we know where we're starting from.

It depends on the role. If someone says 'I want to be XYZ and this will help me improve my craft, and here's how I can add value while extracting value,' that's great. If you come across as a blood-sucking pariah, that's a problem. For me, it's the candor and transparency so we know what we're dealing with. It doesn't stop at entry. My colleagues will tell I'm fond of saying 'treat people like adults.' Do you want an individual contributor role or to lead teams? We assume everyone wants a career path that starts individual and gets promoted. But leave room for people who are domain experts and don't have ambitions to run a big team. They want to do their best work with the right tools. These outcomes require transparent adult conversations.

A bunch of years ago, I was in an interview where I was asked 'How would people describe you?' I thought that was a weird question. How much time should anyone spend thinking about what others think? I said 'Give me a minute,' picked up my phone, posted on Facebook 'Quick, give me one word to describe me.' I said 'I've just asked some people. Let's go to the next question and come back.' I was not a fit for that job, but I came back and read the responses. I look back and think that was a lot of moxie. I tell that story to say be spontaneous, be present, don't meet the moment with your pat answer. Lean into what's really happening. Always answer the question, but if you feel there's more to say, add it. If you're presenting yourself as a generic brand, where am I going to discern value? Go into every situation thinking how you will demonstrate your ability to add value.

I'm fond of referring to Human Resources as stewards of the institution and ambassadors of the employee experience. We have to find the middle ground between what the institution needs and what employees want. That sounds easy but is very hard. Everyone thinks they're not being unreasonable, but you'll get someone who asks 'Why don't you offer XYZ benefit?' I have to articulate that it's fringe, or there are regulatory reasons. Having to say no to a person highly invested in their personal experience is hard because it's not always rational. I just had this conversation with someone I mentor who had to lay off two people. She felt horrible. I said, 'At whatever point you don't feel something after letting someone go, your heart's gone dark. It should never be easy, even when the person deserves it.' I've fired people where you just go 'Seriously, you shouldn't have done that.' Even then, a part of you knows you've taken away a person's ability to support themselves and their family. That's hard. It should be hard.

I did a talk a few months ago and recommended a book called 'Quiet.' It talks about how difficult it is to be an introvert in an extroverted world. A young woman in the audience got on my calendar after reading it. She came so buttoned up you'd think I was interviewing her. She said 'Thank you for your time. I read the book. I have these questions.' We chatted. She asked me to coach her on getting her next job. She came back six or seven months later and had been promoted. I am always giving away free advice. I can count the number of times people have come back to say 'You gave me this advice, let me tell you how it unfolded.' When it's good news, it's the best feeling in the world. Someone took time to seek you out, took your advice, and closed the loop. I love that every time.

What immediately leaps to mind is 'treat people like adults.' Go with the assumption that the person is an adult until they prove otherwise. That means being transparent, owning your position, being curious about the other position if it's different. The second thing: Meredith Kopit Levien, our president and CEO, has 100% confidence in what she knows and equal confidence in what she doesn't know. She'll say 'I have an opinion, but you're the expert. Weigh in and clean up what I might have missed.' As a leader, that's amazing. I endeavor to model that. Be vulnerable enough not to act like you have all the answers. That's a big foil in leadership. Earlier in my career, I was really bad at that. There wasn't as much at stake, and there wasn't as much to not know. Who today can be an expert in everything? It's impossible.

It's hard to think about the pandemic in isolation. It was the pandemic, on the heels of the murder of George Floyd, an uprising of civil rights, and the beginning of the most divisive political environment I've lived through. The assault on the average person was multidirectional and intense. It's hard to talk about just COVID. As an HR professional, I spent the first year of the pandemic at Freddie Mac, then a new place. Over my multi-decade HR experience, I have never seen the demand for HR presence like I have since that trifecta. Every person in the building would say 'Where's HR?' We became experts on drama, viruses, all kinds of things no one would ask our opinion about. I don't think it will abate. It has demonstrated how to maximize the HR function. I think that's a permanent indent on the perception of HR. But I have a long lingering concern that we have underappreciated and under-rotated on the fact that people are still feeling the impacts of those three things converging. Mental health is the place we have to anchor, not just in May during Mental Health Awareness Month. We need to think programmatically year-round about checking in on well-being and supporting it beyond EAP.

I always think about how can I leave people and things better than I found them. That's my endeavor. It's particularly helpful when something is crappy. Anchor into how to make it better. You can lament how bad it is, or think about how to make it better.

There's a member of my senior team who says that all the time. 'Clarity is kindness.' They must be related.

I witnessed something a couple of weeks ago that is still occupying space in my mind. The headquarters of The New York Times is in Midtown, across from Port Authority on 8th Avenue. You see all kinds of things on 8th Avenue. I was walking to the train station. There was a man in a wheelchair, probably unhoused, rolling along. He hit an uneven part of the pavement and looked like he was about to topple out. Right beside him, a member of the NYPD stepped forward and said 'You all right, bro?' The guy said 'Yeah, I'm fine.' The police officer and I made eye contact. I couldn't control myself. I said 'That was beautiful.' He was ready to lay hands and help this man. It was instinctual. He saw me, I saw him. He covered his heart and bowed his head. It was such a beautiful moment of at the end of the day, we're all humans with an instinct to be kind. I grew up here. I have a love-hate relationship with police departments for lots of reasons. But in that moment, it was a human being seeing another human being in duress and instinctively moving to help. Weeks later, I still think of it. It was a great New York moment.

It's so interesting you say that. My oldest son, who just turned 18, his big thing is 'Let's not complicate this.' He's always looking for the easiest solution. It's a bit of what you're saying: keep it simple so you can enjoy the fullness of your life. I have two children. The 18-year-old is going to Syracuse in the fall. The 14-year-old will be in high school. As a parent, the thing I'm living is what one of my girlfriends said: 'The days are long, but the years are fast.' You don't appreciate that when you're going through the long days. But then the 18-year-old turned 18 on a Sunday and graduated high school on Tuesday. I was like 'That's the fastest 18 years on record.' I don't remember the long days when the baby wasn't sleeping. It's been a magnificent reminder to relish the days. Relish every moment. People say that because it's true.

Since we're at midyear performance review time, I would say for every individual to have a clear articulation of where they want to most intensely deploy their skills, talents, and ambitions for the remainder of the year. You have your goals. Be prepared to say where you are with them, what you'll make, what you won't, where you need help. On top of that, if there's something you've noticed or think someone should ideate around, spin up a working group on, use the midyear to make a bold declaration of where you think you can have a positive impact. Aim higher. What's that big idea you haven't articulated? What's that observation that's unattended? You have your supervisor's undivided attention for that period. Use it. It's valuable real estate.

Thank you for the invitation. This has been really fun.