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I’ve spent some time recently reading teaching job adverts and I started to notice an interesting pattern in the language we use to describe the “ideal” candidate.

Words like “enthusiastic”, “passionate” and “dynamic” appear repeatedly, often far more frequently than descriptors related to reflection, creativity or professional deliberation. That in itself isn’t a problem but it raises some important questions about what our recruitment processes may be unintentionally filtering for and what it may be filtering out.

“Seeking an enthusiastic, passionate and dynamic teacher to join our school.”

There is nothing inherently wrong with this. Who wouldn’t want a teacher who loves their subject and can convey that enthusiasm to students?

However, language like this hides a common and largely unexamined bias in teacher recruitment. One that directly affects hiring outcomes.

For decades, research has shown that recruitment processes are vulnerable to bias, even when intent is fair. A landmark 2004 study by Bertrand and Mullainathan demonstrated that identical CVs received significantly different call-back rates based solely on whether the applicant’s name was perceived as ‘White’ or ‘Black’. Similar findings exist for gender bias, prompting widespread reforms such as anonymised applications and structured scoring.

What did not happen was the normalisation of bias once it was identified. Organisations did not respond by saying, “Sorry, you just sounded too Black” or “You weren’t masculine enough.” Instead, they changed the system.

Yet in teacher recruitment, a parallel bias remains visible and largely unchallenged.

I recently analysed 30 randomly selected teaching job adverts on TES. The most common candidate descriptors were ‘enthusiastic’ (50%), ‘passionate’ (43%), and ‘dynamic’ (37%). By contrast, descriptors associated with reflection, collaboration, or professional deliberation appeared far less frequently (‘reflective’: 7%; ‘imaginative’: 3%).

This is not presented as definitive research but even in a small sample, the pattern is striking.

Schools consistently foreground affective qualities alongside and sometimes above technical competence. These terms are not niche; they are core elements of person specifications. Importantly, they function not as baseline expectations but as comparative qualifiers. Candidates who can visibly perform enthusiasm gain an advantage over those whose motivation is quieter, more internal or expressed through depth rather than display. 

More troublingly, this bias is often explicitly reinforced in feedback to unsuccessful candidates: “The other candidate showed more enthusiasm for the school” or “Others appeared more dynamic in the interview.”

This becomes a serious equity issue when viewed through the lens of neurodiversity.

Every day, schools seek teachers who are innovative, committed and deeply invested in student success. Yet the primary tool used to identify them, the traditional interview, often functions less as a window into teaching ability and more as a test of social performance. This system is built on neurotypical norms of communication and disadvantages neurodivergent candidates, particularly those with ADHD and autism.

Commonly, the ADHD child is frequently corrected for being too lively, too chatty, too enthusiastic, for interrupting, oversharing, for just generally being ‘too much.’ This lifelong social feedback often forces the development of a carefully constructed mask. A reserved, calm and controlled exterior designed to pass in neurotypical spaces. Then, as an adult in a job interview, the same individual is evaluated against a checklist that prizes the very “enthusiasm” and “dynamism” they were trained to suppress. The system first punishes the trait, then demands its performance.

For these candidates, the interview is not merely stressful; it is also structurally mismatched. Neuroscience research shows that the ADHD brain is interest-based, thriving on stimulation, immediacy, and interaction, precisely the conditions of a dynamic classroom. By contrast, a static, high-pressure interview environment triggers inhibition, not engagement. Traits such as Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria can flatten affect, while the cognitive load of recalling polished examples under pressure can consume all available executive resources. 

The result is a paradox: the candidate who appears subdued in an interview may be the same teacher who energises a project-based classroom.

Recent empirical evidence supports this bias. A 2021 study by Flower et al. found that autistic candidates were rated significantly lower than neurotypical candidates in live interviews. When the same responses were evaluated via written transcript, the gap largely disappeared. The bias was not in what candidates said, but in how they said it, tone, eye contact, rhythm, neurotypical social signals that are wrongly coded as indicators of professionalism or enthusiasm.

In both ADHD and autism, the system mistakes a difference in social cognition for a deficit in employment potential.

Crucially, past recruitment reforms share a core principle: change the system, not the candidate. Blinded applications, structured scoring and evidence-based criteria reduce reliance on subjective cues. Yet these principles have largely stopped at the edge of neurotypicality.

Creating equity means moving beyond accommodations offered only on request toward universally better design. The goal is not to train neurodivergent candidates to perform neurotypically. It is to build recruitment processes sophisticated enough to recognise genuine teaching potential across different cognitive styles.

By applying the same structural thinking used to combat racial and gender bias, focusing on demonstrable skills rather than ‘charisma’, we can dismantle the enthusiasm trap. We can stop conflating the performance of passion with the substance of it.

We can continue to celebrate a narrow, performative ideal of passion and systematically lose a reservoir of talented, dedicated and innovative educators. Or, we can apply the lessons learned from fighting other biases. We can redesign our adverts, de-centre the social audition and structure assessments that look for evidence of practice over performance. By doing so, we won’t just make hiring fairer; we will build stronger, more diverse teams capable of reaching every student.

The passionate teacher is already there. We should be able to create a process that allows the presentation of their enthusiasm to be correctly understood.

Disclaimer:

This piece is about patterns in recruitment culture over time and across institutions, not about any one school or individual process.

References:

Flower RL, Dickens LM, Hedley D. Barriers to Employment: Raters’ Perceptions of Male Autistic and Non-Autistic Candidates During a Simulated Job Interview and the Impact of Diagnostic Disclosure. Autism Adulthood. 2021 Dec 1;3(4):300-309. doi: 10.1089/aut.2020.0075. Epub 2021 Dec 7. PMID: 36601643; PMCID: PMC8992918.