I once received a CV with a headshot that looked like it was taken at a wedding. Not the applicant's wedding, mind you. Someone else's. There they were, champagne flute in hand, slightly glazed expression, bow tie askew, clearly having the time of their life.

The role was for a senior product marketing manager.

I stared at it for a moment, wondered briefly if they'd attached the wrong file, concluded they hadn't, and moved on to the next application. Total time spent: four seconds. And honestly? That was generous.

I've hired a lot of people over the years, across Xbox, Virgin, Kaspersky, and beyond. I've seen CVs that had no business being anywhere near my inbox. Tables that shattered on import. Creative formatting that rendered as digital confetti. Five-page epics documenting every role since a paper round in 1997.

These CVs didn't fail at the interview stage. They failed before I ever got involved. And that's the bit most people don't understand.

Harvard Business Review found that managers now read for approximately five hours a day. Five hours. From an eight-hour workday, that's most of it gone on emails, Slack messages, reports, and documents before they've done any actual work.

By the time your CV arrives, the person reading it has tired eyes, a short fuse, and zero patience for anything that wastes their time. If your CV doesn't respect that reality, it's already in the bin — digital or otherwise.

But here's the real kicker. Before those tired human eyes even get a look, your CV has to survive the machines first.

Applicant Tracking Systems — ATS software — now filter the majority of applications at large companies. They scan, they score, they reject. No interview. No phone call. No "we'll keep your details on file." Just silence.

The formula below does two things: it gets you past the machines, and it respects the human on the other side.

Most CV intros read like horoscopes. Vague, aspirational waffle that could apply to literally anyone. "Dynamic professional seeking challenging opportunities to leverage synergies…" — stop. Please, just stop.

Use a simple framework instead. Where you've been (your experience in brief), where you are now (your current situation), and where you're going (what you're targeting next). Be direct. Be specific. Three to four sentences, maximum. If it reads like a LinkedIn bio written by a committee, rewrite it.

This is where most CVs completely fall apart. People list what they were responsible for instead of what they actually achieved. "Responsible for managing a team" tells me nothing. It's a job description, not evidence.

Use the PAR method instead. For each role, write three bullet points covering the Problem you solved, the Action you took, and the Result you delivered. That's it. Three per role, and make every single one count.

"Identified a 30% drop in customer retention, implemented a targeted re-engagement programme, and recovered £2.1M in annual recurring revenue." Now we're talking. That's a CV entry that makes tired eyes sit up.

Under ten years of experience? One page. Over ten years? Two pages, maximum. That weekend job at the supermarket from twenty years ago does not make the cut. I don't care how good you were on the cash register.

Focus ruthlessly on roles that demonstrate relevant skills for the job you're applying to. Everything else is noise, and noise is what gets you rejected.

Read the job description. Then read it again. Now use their exact language in your CV. Not synonyms. Not paraphrases. Not your own creative interpretation. The same words.

If the job posting says "project management" and you've written "coordinating initiatives," the ATS rejects you before a human ever claps eyes on it. The software matches keywords, not intent. Give it what it wants.

Your email address. If it's anything other than your actual name, change it today. Not tomorrow. Today. I have genuinely seen [email protected] on a CV. For a senior role. It did not progress.

Your LinkedIn profile is your landing page. Recruiters will spend roughly twenty seconds scanning it before deciding whether to pick up the phone. That post about the legendary company party? The one with the questionable fancy dress? Delete it. Your future employer is looking, and they're judging.

No borders. No photos. No tables. No fancy design. I know it's tempting — you want to stand out. But ATS software sees creative formatting as blank boxes, broken layouts, and missing text. Your beautifully designed CV is literally invisible to the machine.

Go old school. Plain text. Clear headings. Simple structure. Think less graphic designer, more newsreader's autocue. It's not glamorous, but it works.

And the file format? PDF. Always. So no one can edit, change, or corrupt your CV. A Word document is an invitation for chaos. Don't extend it.

This week: Run your current CV through the PAR method. Rewrite every bullet point that lists a duty instead of a result. If you can't quantify the impact, dig deeper until you can. Numbers talk. Waffle walks.

This month: Pick three job descriptions you'd realistically apply for. Highlight the keywords in each one. Now compare those keywords against your CV. Every gap is a missed opportunity for the ATS to match you. Close those gaps.

This quarter: Audit your entire professional presence. Update LinkedIn to mirror your CV narrative. Clean up anything you wouldn't want a hiring manager to see. Get a trusted colleague — ideally someone who's hired people — to review your CV with fresh, honest eyes. Not your mum. She thinks everything you do is brilliant.

Your CV is often the first impression you'll ever make, and it's being judged by software that has no sense of humour, no empathy, and no patience. Get it right, and you'll land in front of a human who does.

Keep on rockin'!

Harvey