Job Description Archaeology: Reading Between the Lines of Posting Language
Most job seekers treat job descriptions like shopping lists - checking whether they have the required skills, then hitting apply. But after screening thousands of candidates and writing hundreds of job postings myself, I can tell you that what's written in a job description is often less important than what's carefully not written.
Job descriptions are archaeological sites. The language choices, the ordering of requirements, even the grammatical inconsistencies, they all reveal something about what you're walking into. And if you know how to excavate properly, you can often predict whether a role will be a stepping stone or a sinkhole before you ever submit your application.
The Hidden Economics of Job Posting Language
Here's what most candidates miss: job descriptions aren't neutral documents. They're negotiated artifacts, typically drafted by a hiring manager, sanitized by HR, sometimes edited by legal, and occasionally butchered by a well-meaning executive who wants to "make it sound better." Each layer leaves clues.
The hiring manager wants someone who can solve their immediate pain. HR wants language that won't trigger an EEOC complaint. Legal wants to avoid promises that could become contractual obligations. The executive wants the role to sound important enough to justify the budget request.
When these interests conflict, the job description becomes a palimpsest - a document that's been written over multiple times, with traces of earlier drafts still visible to those who know what to look for.
Decoding Requirement Hierarchies
The order of requirements isn't random. In my experience recruiting for roles from entry-level to C-suite, I've noticed that the first three requirements in a job description almost always represent one of two things: either the skills the hiring manager desperately needs on day one, or the buzzwords HR insisted on including.
Here's how to tell the difference: if the first requirement is something generic like "excellent communication skills" or "ability to work in a fast-paced environment," you're looking at HR boilerplate. The actual requirements start wherever the language gets specific.
Compare these two openings:
Version A:
Excellent communication and interpersonal skills
Proven ability to work independently and as part of a team
5+ years of Python development experience
Experience with AWS infrastructure
Version B:
Experience debugging production issues in distributed systems
Strong knowledge of AWS Lambda, API Gateway, and DynamoDB
Python or Go proficiency
Comfortable working with minimal supervision
Version A tells you that someone other than the hiring manager wrote this, probably by copying from a template. Version B tells you the hiring manager wrote it, probably at 11 PM after their senior developer quit without warning. Version B is also the one where you'll likely get a faster response, because someone is actively in pain.
The "Nice to Have" Deception
I've lost count of how many times I've seen candidates skip jobs because they didn't have everything in the "nice to have" section. Meanwhile, I'm sitting there knowing that those nice-to-haves are often the actual requirements, while the "required" section is padded with generic skills to make the posting look thorough.
Why does this happen? Because hiring managers and recruiters play a game of expectations management. If we list something as required and then hire someone who doesn't have it, we look incompetent. But if we list it as nice-to-have and hire someone with it, we look brilliant. There are also OFCCP conundrums that could play into this, but that’s another topic.
The linguistic tell: watch for specificity. If the nice-to-have section includes specific tools, version numbers, or methodologies ("experience with Terraform 1.0+", "familiarity with OKR frameworks"), those are probably real preferences. If it's vague aspirations ("leadership potential", "entrepreneurial mindset"), it's just wishful thinking that won't factor into the actual hiring decision.
Reading Corporate Culture Through Word Choice
Certain phrases are cultural markers. Words have meaning. After a decade of recruiting, I can often predict a company's dysfunction level from their word choices alone.
"Fast-paced environment" — Translation: We haven't figured out our processes yet, so everything is reactive. Expect weekend work.
"Wear many hats" — Translation: This is really three jobs, but we only got budget for one salary. The last person burned out in 18 months.
"Startup mentality" (at a company older than 5 years) — Translation: We want you to work startup hours for non-startup compensation, without the equity upside that makes startups attractive.
"Family atmosphere" — Translation: Poor professional boundaries. Your boss will text you at 9 PM and expect immediate responses.
"Self-starter who thrives with minimal supervision" — Translation: Your manager is overwhelmed and won't have time to train you or give meaningful feedback. You're on your own.
Now, these phrases aren't automatically disqualifying. Some people thrive in ambiguous, high-autonomy environments - I know I do. But you should know what you're signing up for. The problem is when companies use these phrases to sugar-coat organizational problems rather than being honest about their culture.
The most honest job descriptions I've seen acknowledge trade-offs directly: "This role requires significant weekend work during tax season, but we offer comp time and flex schedules during off-peak months." That's a company that's thought through their employee value proposition. Generic buzzwords suggest they haven't.
The Salary Range Game Theory
Since more jurisdictions now require salary ranges in job postings, I've watched companies adapt their strategies in revealing ways. The width of the range tells you almost everything about how negotiable the position is.
A narrow range ($85,000-$95,000) suggests the company has done their market research and knows what this role costs. A wide range ($65,000-$115,000) suggests one of three things: they don't know what they want, they're trying to appeal to candidates at multiple experience levels, or they're playing games by posting the legally required range while planning to hire at the bottom end.
The most honest indicator? Look at where they place the range in the posting. If salary is mentioned in the first paragraph, they're competing on compensation and probably willing to negotiate. If it's buried at the bottom in 8-point font, they're hoping you fall in love with the opportunity before seeing the disappointing number. This isn’t always the case, but sometimes it is.
The Turnover Tell: Reading Hiring Urgency
The language around timing reveals volumes about internal dynamics. Here's what I look for:
"Immediate opening" or "ASAP start" — Someone quit suddenly or was fired. You're walking into a crisis, which could be an opportunity or a nightmare depending on why they left.
"Expanding team" or "Newly created position" — Safer bet. The company is growing, not replacing, which usually means less political baggage.
"Backfill for promoted employee" — Best case scenario. There's a clear success path, and someone internal can probably train you.
The absence of any timing language could mean they've been trying to fill this role for months and have given up on urgency signaling. In my recruiting work, I've noticed these positions often have insider problems that aren't visible in the posting - unrealistic salary expectations, a terrible manager, or requirements that don't match the actual job.
What's Missing Matters More
The most revealing part of any job description is what it doesn't say. After years of writing these postings, I know exactly what gets deliberately omitted:
No team size mentioned — Could be a team of 50 or a department of one. In my experience, when companies are proud of their team size, they mention it. Silence suggests you might be the only person doing this work.
No reporting structure — Who you report to shapes your entire experience. If they won't mention whether you're reporting to a director, VP, or C-level executive, there's usually a reason. Sometimes it means the role is being reorganized. Sometimes it means they're not sure yet. Neither is great.
No growth path or advancement language — Look, not every job needs to be a stepping stone. But if a company has thought carefully about career development, they usually mention it. The absence suggests this is a role people leave more often than they advance from.
No mention of current team skills — When job descriptions say something like "you'll work alongside senior engineers with expertise in X, Y, and Z," that's a signal about mentorship opportunities. If that language is missing, you might be the most experienced person in the room - great if you want autonomy, problematic if you want to learn.
The Qualification Inflation Problem
One pattern worth noting: requirement lists have grown longer over the years. Job descriptions that once listed five core requirements now list twelve. Entry-level positions asking for three to five years of experience. Roles requiring bachelor's degrees where associates or experience would suffice.
What causes this? Sometimes it's institutional drift, each hiring cycle adds one more "lesson learned" to the requirements list without removing anything. Sometimes it's multiple stakeholders adding their wish lists. Sometimes it's simply copying what competitors post without questioning whether each requirement actually predicts job performance.
The practical impact: Studies suggest that men apply for jobs when they meet 60% of requirements, while women wait until they meet 100%. But from my recruiting perspective, I can tell you that the hiring decision almost never comes down to checking boxes. It comes down to whether the candidate can solve the specific problem the team faces.
This is where knowing how recruiters actually search for candidates becomes valuable. They often search by actual skills and problem-solving ability, not just credentials listed.
If you meet the first three specific requirements in a job description and can articulate in your resume how you've solved similar problems, you're competitive, regardless of how many nice-to-haves you're missing.
The Red Flags in Responsibility Language
Certain responsibility descriptions should trigger immediate scrutiny:
"Other duties as assigned" — Every job has unexpected tasks, but when this phrase appears prominently, it often signals unclear role boundaries. You'll end up doing whatever the loudest stakeholder demands.
"Manage relationships with challenging stakeholders" — Why are they challenging? Is this a political minefield role where you'll spend more time managing egos than doing real work?
"Turn around underperforming function/department/team" — This is a rescue mission. Could be career-defining if you pull it off. Could also be impossible due to structural issues beyond your control. Dig deep in interviews to understand why the function is underperforming.
"Support the vision of leadership" — Vague enough to mean anything, which usually means your job is to execute someone else's ideas without much input. Great for some people, frustrating for others.
The best responsibility descriptions are specific, measurable, and describe outcomes rather than activities. "Reduce customer churn by improving onboarding experience" tells you exactly what success looks like. "Enhance customer experience through various initiatives" tells you nothing.
The Interview Process as Cultural Indicator
How companies describe their hiring process in the job description offers another data point. When I see language like "we have a rigorous interview process" without specifics, I know candidates are going to go through multiple rounds without clarity on what each round assesses.
The companies that respect candidates' time are specific: "30-minute phone screen with recruiter, 60-minute technical assessment, final round with hiring manager." If they can't tell you how many steps their process includes, that's a sign of organizational disarray.
The same goes for timeline language. "We're hoping to have someone in place by [specific date]" suggests a functioning hiring process. "We're looking to move quickly with the right candidate" means they have no idea how long this will take, which usually means it will take twice as long as you expect.
The Application Instructions Tell
I've noticed that how companies ask you to apply reveals their relationship with candidates. Red flag phrases:
"Please submit a cover letter explaining your passion for [company mission]" — They want free consulting on how to market to you. This is a time tax that mostly filters out experienced candidates who know better.
"Include salary requirements in application" (without posting their own range) — This is the information asymmetry game. If they've posted their range publicly and ask for your expectations, that's transparent alignment—both parties being upfront. But asking for your number while hiding theirs puts you at a negotiating disadvantage before the conversation even starts.
"Only candidates who meet ALL requirements will be considered" — Ironically, this is often the easiest posting to ignore. In my recruiting experience, these postings come from the most desperate hiring managers who will interview anyone halfway decent after their "perfect candidate" pipeline dries up.
The companies with the most efficient hiring processes make applying easy and save the qualifying questions for later in the process when they've demonstrated their own value to the candidate.
How to Actually Use This Information
Reading between the lines isn't about automatically disqualifying opportunities—it's about going in with eyes open and asking better interview questions.
If you spot signs of high turnover, ask about team tenure in interviews. If you see vague responsibility descriptions, ask for specific examples of what success looks like in the first 90 days. If you notice the salary range is suspiciously wide, research the market rate independently and anchor your negotiation around data.
The goal is pattern recognition. No single phrase means much in isolation, but when you see multiple signals pointing in the same direction, trust your read. I've seen too many talented people accept roles that could have been predicted to fail just from careful reading of the job description.
The companies that write clear, honest, specific job descriptions are usually the ones worth working for. They've done the hard work of figuring out what they actually need, they're transparent about trade-offs, and they respect your time enough to be direct.
When you find a job description that makes you think "this is exactly what I've been looking for," it's usually because someone invested real effort in making the role comprehensible. That effort is a leading indicator of how the company operates.
The Long Game
I tell candidates not to think of job descriptions as application prompts, but as the opening move in a negotiation. The company is saying "here's what we think we need." Your application is your counter-offer: "here's what I can actually deliver."
The hiring process is fundamentally an information asymmetry problem. They know more about the role than they're saying. You know more about your capabilities than your resume shows. The eventual conversation is about bridging that gap.
But you can start bridging it much earlier by reading job descriptions like the negotiated documents they are. Every word choice, every omission, every structural decision reveals something about what you're walking into.
Most candidates don't bother with this level of analysis. They skim for keywords, check the salary, and apply. Which means if you actually read carefully, you're already ahead of 80% of your competition, because you're applying to the roles where your specific value proposition solves their specific problem, rather than spray-and-pray applications to anything that sounds reasonable.
After a decade of watching this process from the recruiter's side, I can tell you the candidates who get the best roles aren't the ones with the best credentials. They're the ones who understand what companies actually need vs. what they say they need, and can articulate that gap in their application materials.
Learn to read job descriptions like artifacts rather than instructions, and you'll find yourself in fewer wrong-fit roles and more conversations with companies that actually value what you bring to the table.
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Cole Sperry has been a recruiter and resume writer since 2015, working with tens of thousands of job seekers, and hundreds of employers. Today Cole runs a boutique advisory firm consulting with dozens of recruiting firms and is the Managing Editor at OptimCareers.com.
