Real-Life Decision Making
You are the chairperson of the department of philosophy at a university. You are in charge of hiring and promoting faculty for your department. You hold the deciding vote in the committee that determines who will teach the philosophy curriculum.
It is your job to conduct the final one-on-one interviews.
Enter the first candidate. He is a dignified older man with a full white beard. He is also a friend of one of your colleagues. You have previewed his resume. His credentials are impressive. You shake hands and greet him.
The interview proceeds slowly. The man carefully answers your questions about various areas of philosophy. He avoids questions about his family. He speaks with ease, almost as if he's on automatic pilot. His cache of knowledge astounds you. He tends to drone. Finally, you stand up, smile, shake his hand and thank him for a very meaningful interview.
You take a break before you invite the next candidate into your office. She is a stout middle-aged woman with a solid background in teaching philosophy. She also has a law degree.
As she speaks, she seems to swell with pride over all her accomplishments, and there are many. Her voice becomes almost strident. She is soon telling you why you must hire her. She bristles when you ask the reason why she left her last position.
"There was a disagreement between myself and another professor regarding the interpretation of a policy and procedure. The other professor pulled rank and I lost the debate in the eyes of the department," she states flatly.
She stares at you as if daring you to confront her further on this matter. Her credentials are immaculate. She is more than qualified for the position. She is a take-charge person, unlikely to need or accept supervision.
You admire her tenacity. She was the first to apply, she is highly qualified and she makes it quite clear that she won't take no for an answer. You shake hands and she leaves.
The third candidate knocks on your door. A young man opens the door and grins. He's been rushing and he's a bit of a mess with his jacket flapping open and his hair windblown. He introduces himself and apologizes for having had to rush. He smells like chlorine and you know where he's been. "You're a swimmer?" you ask.
"I used to be. Now I coach my daughter's swim team," he explains.
You have gone over his resume and found that he has not yet taught a philosophy course. He has just finished his dissertation for his doctoral degree. Your other two candidates are highly experienced. This young man may be inexperienced as a teacher.
You ask him about his hobbies and interests and find out that he not only coaches a swim team, but teaches drawing and sculpting to adults at a civic center near his home. He reads voraciously and keeps a journal of his own. When he has a spare moment, he contributes to a newsletter for an ecology group and writes pamphlets that persuade street kids to seek free medical attention.
You question him about his knowledge in specific areas. He stumbles a little out of nervousness. Once he is into the subject, you can see that he finds it intriguing and you have to ask him to end his lecture.
What do you do?