The Most Respectful Answer in the Room

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“Do you have any questions for us?”

“No, I think you covered everything.”

If you’ve interviewed for anything, you’ve probably been on one side of that exchange. Maybe you said it and then replayed it on the drive home, wondering if it cost you. Maybe you heard it and quietly marked the candidate down.

Every few weeks I see the same advice from hiring managers on LinkedIn: “no questions” is a red flag. A good question shows how you think. No question leaves them guessing.

I understand where that comes from. I also think it can punish some of the most prepared people in the room, and I want to explain why from where I sit.

Where I’m coming from

I’ve been hard of hearing since birth, and I have ADHD. For a long time I saw both as negatives. Interviews are still the hardest part of my job search. More than once I’ve logged off a call knowing I could do the job and hadn’t shown it.

But the same two things made me good at my work. In nearly 19 years at EMC and Dell, much of it in program management, my hearing pushed me toward habits I still rely on. I write everything down. I confirm decisions in writing. I run meetings with a clear agenda, and I make sure nobody leaves with a different version of the plan.

Put simply, I’ve trained my whole career to make other people’s time count. That matters for what happens at the end of an interview.

What “no questions” can actually mean

Experienced candidates do their homework. Before a final round, I’ve read the job description several times, looked up the team, read what the company has published, and sometimes talked with someone who works there. I walk in with a list.

Then a good interview answers most of it. By the time they ask if I have questions, my list is crossed off.

Now I have to choose. I can ask something I already know the answer to, so the box gets checked. Or I can be honest and say they covered it.

The first option feels wrong to me. It asks two busy people to spend time on something neither of us needs. If I did that in a meeting at work, I’d be wasting the room’s time. In an interview, it’s somehow expected.

The same moment through a different lens

Now picture a candidate who’s autistic. For many autistic people, asking a question you already know the answer to feels like acting. It can feel dishonest, and like a real waste of everyone’s time. They may be the most direct and prepared person you talk to all week, and this one ritual marks them down for exactly that.

Senior people often land in the same place for different reasons. After enough years, you know how most companies work. The questions that would have mattered early in a career got answered long ago.

None of these candidates lack curiosity. Their curiosity got answered early, through preparation and through the interview itself. Scoring them down for it means scoring them down for a strength.

For candidates who feel this way

You don’t have to fake a question. A few honest options:

  • Name what they covered. “You answered most of what I came with, especially how the team plans releases.” It shows you were listening, which is what the question is really testing.
  • Keep one question that’s always useful. Mine is “Is there anything in my background you’d like me to clear up?” I genuinely don’t know the answer, it works no matter what the interview covered, and it brings any doubts into the open while I can still address them.
  • Ask to follow up in writing. “If something comes to me tonight, is it okay if I email you?” Many of us think better after the call ends. Then actually send it.

For interviewers

The idea behind the question is good. You want to know how someone thinks and whether they care about the role. You can get there without the ritual.

  • Weigh the whole hour. If someone showed real depth for 45 minutes and their track record backs it up, one closing answer shouldn’t undo that.
  • Ask one more of your own. If “no questions” bothers you, try “What stood out to you from your research on us?” You’ll get the curiosity you were looking for.
  • Invite written follow-up. Tell candidates they’re welcome to email questions later. You’ll often get better ones.

Ask yourself who a rule like this screens out. Often it’s the people who prepared the hardest, or the ones whose brains work a little differently from yours.

Why I’m writing about this

More and more, I see my hearing and my ADHD as the reason I work the way I do. The habits that make me say “no questions” at the end of an interview are the same ones that make me good at the job.

If you’ve ever walked out of an interview wondering whether your honesty cost you, I’d like to hear about it. And if you hire, I’d like to hear how you handle those last two minutes.

If you missed it, last week I wrote about the gap between a strong resume and a rough interview.

Sean Feeney is a disability advocate and program leader who spent nearly 19 years at EMC and Dell, where he led a CI/CD transformation across 22 Scrum teams and ran the Architecture Review Board for Dell NativeEdge. He has been hard of hearing since birth and is neurodivergent.

The Interview Gap: What Hiring Misses About Hidden Disabilities

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I get interviews. That part of my job search works. After nearly 19 years at EMC and Dell, leading a CI/CD transformation across 22 Scrum teams and running the Architecture Review Board for Dell NativeEdge, my resume opens doors at companies I’d be proud to work for.

Then I get on a Zoom call, and things get harder.

I’ve been hard of hearing since birth, and I have ADHD. Both are invisible until they aren’t. I want to write about the gap between a strong resume and a rough interview, because I don’t think hiring teams see it, and I don’t think enough of us talk about it.

What a video interview actually asks of me

From the outside, an interview looks simple. One person asks questions and the other answers. For me it’s several jobs at once.

I’m listening through compressed audio and filling in words I didn’t quite catch from context. I’m holding the question in my head while I pick which story fits. I’m watching the clock. And with ADHD, working memory is the first thing to go when I’m nervous, so a detail I knew cold an hour ago can disappear mid-sentence.

When the audio drops, someone turns away from the mic, or two people talk at once on a panel, I lose the thread. Then I have a choice. I can ask them to repeat the question, which feels fine once and awkward the third time. Or I can guess at what they meant, and sometimes answer a question nobody asked.

Either way, the interviewer leaves with an impression. It doesn’t always match the person on the resume, and they don’t know why.

Why the gap closes once I’m on the job

Here’s the part that frustrates me most. Almost none of this is a problem at work.

At work there’s a meeting recap, a Slack thread, a Jira ticket. If I miss something, I follow up an hour later and nobody thinks twice. Over the years I’ve built habits around my hearing. I write everything down, I confirm decisions in writing, and I make sure nobody leaves a meeting with a different version of the plan. Those habits made me good at program management. They’re a big reason the processes I built held up after I handed them off.

The interview format strips all of that away. No follow-up, no notes, no second pass. It tests the exact conditions where I’m weakest and skips the ones where I’m strongest.

The disclosure question

Every candidate with a hidden disability runs the same calculation. Do I mention it?

If I don’t, I risk being judged on a performance that doesn’t reflect me. If I do, I risk it sounding like an excuse, or someone quietly deciding I’ll be “a lot of work.” Neither feels safe, and a lot of people default to silence.

I’ve landed somewhere in the middle. Disclosure is a choice I make company by company, and I’ve found a couple of ways to bring it up that feel normal instead of apologetic.

The first is the accommodation request, sent when the interview gets scheduled. It’s short and practical:

“I’m hard of hearing, so a video call with live captions turned on would work much better for me than a phone call. Could we set it up that way?”

If I’d rather not name it, there’s a version that skips the reason:

“Could we do this as a video call with captions on, and could questions also be typed in the chat? That helps me give you better answers.”

The second is how I talk about it in the room, if I choose to. I frame it as where my strengths come from, instead of something I’m working “despite”:

“I’ve been hard of hearing since birth, and it’s made me very deliberate. I write things down, I confirm decisions, and I make sure nobody leaves a meeting with a different version of the plan. That habit is a big part of why the things I built actually stuck.”

That tells them something true about how I work, and it gives them a reason to remember me.

What’s helped me as a candidate

  • Captions, every time. Zoom, Teams, and Google Meet all have them built in. Windows 11 also has system-wide Live Captions (Win + Ctrl + L) that work with any app.
  • Scripting the edges. I prepare my intro, my close, and lines for the hard moments, like “I want to make sure I answer the right question. Could you say that one more time?” Only the middle gets improvised.
  • Headline first. I put the answer in my first sentence, then the story. If I wander, the point already landed.
  • Asking what’s unclear. Near the end I ask, “Is there anything in my background you’d like me to clear up?” It brings doubts into the room while I can still address them.
  • The same-day follow-up. If an answer didn’t land, I fix it in the thank-you email. That’s the version of me they’d actually be hiring.
  • Warm introductions. Referrals get me into one-on-one conversations with people who already know my work, and that’s the format where I do best.

What hiring teams can do

None of these cost much, and they help every candidate.

  1. Turn on captions by default. Don’t wait for someone to ask. Asking is the hard part.
  2. Share the topics ahead of time. You’ll get better answers from everyone.
  3. Type key questions in the chat, especially the multi-part ones.
  4. Choose one-on-ones over big panels when you can. Crosstalk is brutal when you can’t hear well.
  5. Let candidates follow up in writing, and read what they send. Most real work happens in writing anyway.
  6. Weigh references from people who watched someone work. A former VP who saw two years of delivery knows more than one hour on Zoom can show.
  7. Train interviewers on what a disclosure means. It’s information. Treat it that way.

The Job Accommodation Network has free guidance on interview accommodations for employers and candidates.

Why I’m writing this

Being hard of hearing has shaped my career and my confidence in ways most of my coworkers never saw. I’m done staying quiet about it. Disability advocacy needs more voices from people who are in the middle of it right now, and I’d like to be one of them.

If you’re a candidate dealing with this, you’re not imagining the gap. If you’re a hiring manager, keep the bar where it is. Just make sure your interview is measuring what the job needs.

I’d love to hear what’s worked for you, on either side of the table.

Are Personal LLMs Becoming the New Resume?

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I have been thinking about a question that feels slightly uncomfortable, mostly because it might be true.

Are we approaching an age where someone’s value in the job market is less about raw experience, and more about the quality and effectiveness of their personal large language models (LLMs)?

Not “who uses artificial intelligence,” because at this point, that is like asking who uses search or spreadsheets.

I mean this instead: who has built a personal system that reliably turns messy inputs into clear outputs, faster decisions, better communication, and fewer dropped balls?

Experience still matters, but the leverage is changing

Experience used to be a strong proxy for a few things:

  • Pattern recognition
  • Knowing what questions to ask
  • Knowing what good looks like
  • Communicating clearly when things get chaotic

Now we have tools that can supply patterns instantly, draft strong first passes, and help structure thinking.

And the data is starting to show meaningful productivity gains when people use these tools well. In controlled studies, access to generative artificial intelligence has improved speed and quality on certain professional writing tasks. In real workplace settings, generative assistants have shown measurable output gains, with the biggest lift often showing up for less experienced workers (because the tool helps them “close the gap” faster).

But there is a catch that most headlines gloss over.

The tool alone is not the advantage. The system around it is.

Even at Davos this month, one theme was blunt: companies do not get value from artificial intelligence unless they redesign work and invest in training.

That maps to what I see personally. The people getting the most out of LLMs are not the ones who found the cleverest prompt on social media.

They are the ones who treat it like an operating system.

A personal LLM is not a chatbot. It is a workflow.

When I say “personal LLM,” I mean something more specific than “I ask ChatGPT questions.”

I mean a setup that is:

  • Tuned to how you think
  • Organized by context (so it does not turn into one giant junk drawer)
  • Consistent in output format (so you can reuse results, not rewrite them)
  • Guardrailed (so it does not confidently make things up and send you on a goose chase)

If you do this well, you get a multiplier effect on your actual experience.

You still need judgment. You still need domain knowledge. You still need taste.

But your throughput goes up, and your cognitive load goes down.

That is a real advantage in a world where the work never stops piling up.

What I do (practical strategies that actually stick)

I am going to keep this concrete. Here are a few habits that have made the biggest difference for me.

1) One project per reality

I separate my LLM work by context. Work projects, career projects, personal projects. If it has different rules, different output needs, or different “what good looks like,” it gets its own space.

This prevents context bleed, and it helps the model stay consistent. It also makes it easier for me to find things later, which is half the battle.

2) I start each project with a “contract”

At the top of a project, I write a short set of rules like I am onboarding a new teammate:

  • What I care about (speed, accuracy, tone, depth)
  • What to avoid (fluff, invented details, vague advice)
  • The format I want back (headings, bullets, action items)

This one step is boring, but it pays off every single time.

3) I force structured outputs

If I want a meeting summary, I do not ask, “Summarize this.”

I ask for the exact structure I need, every time. Example:

  • Summary (5 bullets max)
  • Decisions
  • Risks and open questions
  • Action items (owner, due date in mm/dd/yyyy, no weekend dates)

When the output is predictable, I move faster. I can paste it into an email, a document, a tracker, or a status update without reformatting everything.

4) I explicitly separate facts from assumptions

I regularly ask for two sections:

  • What you know (based on what I provided)
  • What you are assuming (and how to verify it)

This is a guardrail against confident nonsense, and it trains me to keep a healthy skepticism.

5) I use the model to reduce switching costs

I treat it like a “translator” between modes:

  • Brain dump → clean plan.
  • Chaos → crisp status update
  • Long thread → short executive summary
  • Vague idea → testable hypothesis + next step

Most knowledge work is not hard because the tasks are impossible.

It is hard because we constantly pay the mental tax of switching contexts and formats.

6) I keep reusable templates

This is the part that feels like cheating, but it is just process.

I keep a small set of prompts I reuse, like:

  • “Turn this into a one-page plan with risks and dependencies.”
  • “Rewrite this for a director-level audience, no extra words.”
  • “Give me three options, recommend one, and tell me what you would do first.”

The goal is consistency, not creativity.

Why this is showing up in the job market

Hiring is a pattern-matching game.

If two candidates have similar experience, the tie-breaker is often:

  • Communication quality
  • Speed to clarity
  • Ability to operate across ambiguity
  • Evidence of strong systems thinking

A well-built personal LLM workflow amplifies all of those.

It also creates a new kind of “proof of capability.” Not a certification. Not a buzzword.

A repeatable way of working.

And yes, hiring is being reshaped by automation too. The tools evaluating candidates are changing, and that raises fairness and transparency questions that we are going to have to deal with in the open.

The part we need to be honest about

There are real risks here:

  • Privacy and confidentiality (do not paste sensitive data into tools that are not approved for it)
  • Hallucinations (the model can be wrong with confidence)
  • Overreliance (you still need to think)
  • Inequality of access (not everyone has the same tools, time, or support)

So my take is not “personal LLMs replace experience.”

My take is simpler:

We are moving into a world where experience is the foundation, and your personal LLM workflow is the leverage.

The new baseline skill: building your own leverage

If you are early in your career, this can be a rocket booster. If you are senior, it can keep you from drowning in meetings and context switching.

Either way, the advantage is not the model.

It is how you set it up, how you guide it, and how you validate it.

If you are a hiring manager, you might start asking candidates a new question:

“Show me how you work with an LLM, and how you keep it reliable.”

If you are a candidate, you might want to treat your personal LLM like a professional toolchain, not a toy.

Because the job market is already rewarding people who can turn tools into systems.

Question for you: what is one workflow you would immediately improve if you had a reliable personal LLM setup?

Apple’s New Handwashing Counter is Apple’s Best Use of a Wearable Yet!

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Background

Starting with Apple’s WatchOS 7, there is a new handwashing timer. If you have not seen it yet, please check the video below to understand what it is. In short, it senses when you are washing your hands. Then starts a timer to help you know when it’s been 20 seconds. Once the time is up, you’ve sufficiently washed your hands enough according to the latest science.

Sure, you can sing ♫Happy Birthday♫ twice or count to twenty yourself, but you have a “Smart” watch. Shouldn’t it be… well… Smart?

COVID-19

I have to go there, so let’s get it out of the way. COVID-19 ushered in a new urgency for washing your hands. We all knew we should do it, but many of us rushed through it and said, good enough. We try, but we certainly are not singing ♫Happy Birthday♫ twice every single time. It’s crucial to get this right. After all, according to the FDA, antibacterial soap is not more effective than regular soap and led us down the path towards creating superbugs. Also, washing our hands properly is one of the two most effective ways to deal with COVID-19 (the second is wearing a mask).

Comparison to Other Health Features and Devices

Now, I know what you may be thinking. “How can the handwashing feature be better than tracking your steps, monitoring your heart rate, or following your exercise routine?” Sure, these are all great technical achievements. Someday, maybe we can use this data to drive real changes in behavior or get us better medical care. The key-word here is “someday.”

Do not get me wrong, I love my Apple watch. But I am a tech product nerd. I mostly just love the idea of having that much technology on my wrist. However, in many ways, it is a glorified journal/Pavlovian notification engine. How many people do you think are extracting their health data, analyzing it, and making changes based on what they find? I’ll bet that most people have no idea what to do with the data once they have it.

Let’s compare the Apple Watch to Whoop (hang tight, I assure you this is relevant and I am getting to the point). I mean look at this thing, it’s incredibly boring and uninteresting compared to the Apple Watch…

..but, that kind of the point. There is a reason that athletes like Lebron James are wearing a Whoop and not an Apple Watch. Aside from not getting distracted by notifications dinging as he runs up and down the court, the Whoop band provides real actionable data. You see, the Whoop band works on the principle that your variable heart rate can be a good predictor of stress and fatigue. As a result, an athlete and their trainer can make informed decisions about when to push and when to rest their athlete. This leads to protecting your investment as a coach and ensuring a long, healthy career for the athlete.

Putting it All Together

So, what does this have to do with Apple’s handwashing feature?

Just like the actionable data World Class Athletes get from a Whoop band, the handwashing feature:

  • Solves a problem
  • Is automatic and effortless
  • Works consistently

My primary critique about the Apple Watch since the day I first got it, was that I didn’t feel like it was solving a problem. The Apple Watch didn’t make me exercise more or eat less. Didn’t force me to go to sleep at a reasonable hour. It didn’t change my behavior in any meaningful way. It just felt like an extension of my phone. A way to get notifications, pay for goods, and stream podcasts without having to take my phone out of my pocket or grab it from across the room.

However, the handwashing feature is done so well in my experience that even if I started washing my hands and it didn’t register at first, that it was what I was doing, it would begin the countdown retroactively. So, instead of starting the countdown at 20 seconds from when it “registers” the event, it would start at 15 or 10 seconds, which is exactly what you should have left.

Hat’s off to you, Apple. You finally found a feature that changed my behavior for the better and has me washing my hands consistently for the appropriate amount of time.

Now if they can just figure out how to prevent me from shutting it off when I bump the buttons on the side. 🤣

The Patriots Won Because of Grit

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You can come up with all sorts of reason for the patriots win, but the culture of grit, the relentless practice and frequency of playing 100% to the last second of every game is what got them here. Everyone wonders why the patriots don’t take it easy when they are up 40 points. It is because if you take it easy and slow down, you build the culture you practice. Regulation play, is the best practice you can face. The falcons came out hard, but their inability to play an entire game at full speed it what defeated them. 

Just look at all of the sudden falcon injuries and penalties in the second half. This is no accident. They got tired and sloppy. They simply have not developed the culture of grit the way the patriots have. 

Watch out for the falcons next year and beyond. Pete Carroll built grit into the culture of the Seahawks (which is why they give the patriots a run for their money) and Dan Quinn is a product of that culture. If he carries that culture forward to the young falcons team, they are going to be a serious contender for years to come. 
We are on to 2018! Oh and duckboats 🐐!