Over the years, I have had the good fortune (and occasionally the mild emotional endurance test) of reading hundreds — possibly thousands — of resumes.
Without fail, they tended to fall into two main categories:
1. The Encyclopaedia Britannica Edition
These were far too long and painfully detailed. I was once sent a 32-page resume. Thirty-two. Pages. By page 14 I knew their pet’s dietary preferences, their Year 9 debating result, and possibly their blood type — but still had no clear idea what they were good at.
2. The Minimalist Mystery
These were so brief that the applicant’s enormous talent was carefully hidden — like a masterpiece stored in a cupboard under the stairs. I call this the fine art of under-selling. Capable people presenting themselves like they once helped at a sausage sizzle and weren’t entirely sure it went well.
Recently, however, I’ve noticed a new and increasingly common third category — one that I find particularly irritating:
3. The Cult of the Word “Passionate.”
Everyone is passionate.
Passionate about leadership.
Passionate about customer service.
Passionate about spreadsheets.
Passionate about early morning team stand-ups (no one is passionate about early morning team stand-ups).
The word now appears so frequently that it has gone from meaningful to mechanical. Once upon a time, passionate suggested deep understanding, genuine excitement, and a commitment bordering on obsession. Now, it often reads like a box that has been ticked because a resume template suggested it should be there.
True passion doesn’t need announcing — it shows itself through achievement, curiosity, persistence, and impact.
So yes, in my humble opinion, “passionate” is a word that should be used sparingly — if at all — in a resume.
If you are truly interested in attracting a position, don’t tell us you’re passionate.
Show us what you cared enough about to do.
