Entrepreneurship ~6 min read

What I Wish I Knew Before Hiring My First Employee

I had no idea what I was doing. The paperwork took an afternoon. Learning to actually hire took years.

Evan Ross
Evan Ross
@evanrossfl
Evan Ross pointing at a printed report at the Celltronix counter while two team members look on

Before Celltronix had a hundred and twenty people on payroll, it had one. I remember that decision more clearly than most of the ones that came after it, because it was the first time I was responsible for somebody else’s rent.

What I did not understand at the time is that hiring your first employee is not a staffing decision. It is a change in what your job is. You go from being a person who does the work to a person whose work arrives through somebody else, and almost nothing about being good at the first thing prepares you for the second.

The honest version is that I had no idea what I was doing. I did not know what to look for in a candidate. I did not know what to ask in an interview, so I asked the questions I had been asked in my own interviews, which were not good questions. I could not tell the difference between someone who interviewed well and someone who would be good at the job, and I did not know those were two different things. There was no playbook, nobody to call, and no training for any of it. I was improvising, and I was improvising with somebody’s livelihood as the test case.

It took years to get good at it. Not months. Years of hiring, getting it wrong, noticing the pattern a few hires too late, and changing one thing. Eventually we were bringing on a dozen people a month and it ran on something that genuinely deserved to be called a process. None of that existed at the beginning. All of it got built out of mistakes, and the mistakes started with hire number one.

Here is what I wish somebody had told me then.

I thought I was buying time

The arithmetic in my head was simple and wrong. Find the hours in my week that did not require me specifically, hand them to somebody else, get the hours back. That was the whole plan.

That is not what happens, at least not for a while. In the first stretch you are doing the work and explaining the work and checking the work and discovering, in real time, how much of the job you had never put into words. Your week gets worse before it gets better. I went in expecting relief, got more load, and quietly wondered whether I had made a mistake.

“I went in expecting relief, got more load, and quietly wondered whether I had made a mistake.”

I had not. The hours do come back. But there is a trough in the middle, and you have to fund it in cash and in patience. Treat the first ninety days as a period with no return, plan your own calendar around that, and stop reading the dip as evidence the hire was wrong.

I hired for the tasks, not for the ambiguity

My interviews were about whether the person could do the things on the list, which seemed obviously correct. The trouble is there was no list, not really. The job as it existed in my head was maybe forty percent concrete tasks and sixty percent small unwritten judgments I made a hundred times a day without noticing.

So what actually determined whether the hire worked was not task competence. It was how the person behaved in the gaps. Something would come up that we had never discussed, I would be unreachable, and they would have to do something.

Some people freeze and wait. Some make a call and tell you afterward what they decided and why. At headcount one you need the second kind, because there is nothing yet for them to lean on. No manual, no second opinion down the hall, no precedent. Just them and a decision.

I did not know to screen for that, and I did not find the question that gets at it for a long time. It is some version of: tell me about a time you had to decide something without enough information, and what you did afterward. The afterward is the part that tells you what you need to know. It took a lot of hires, and a fair number of bad ones, before I understood that most of what an interview should be doing is testing judgment rather than inventorying experience.

The paperwork was the easy part, and I treated it like the hard part

There is a real administrative list and it is worth doing properly. An EIN. A W-4 from the new hire. An I-9 to verify eligibility to work, which you keep on file rather than send anywhere. A new hire report to your state directory, generally within twenty days. Workers’ compensation coverage, and registration with your state workforce agency for unemployment insurance. Employment tax records kept at least four years. The SBA lays the sequence out, and specifics vary by state, so check yours rather than mine.

All of that is real, and none of it is hard. It has clear instructions and a finish line, which is exactly why I poured so much of my anxiety into it. Checking boxes feels like progress in a way that thinking does not. Meanwhile the thing that would decide the outcome had no form attached to it.

Nothing was written down, so the job could not leave my head

Within a few weeks every question was routing back to me. My first read was that I had hired someone who needed too much hand holding. That was unfair, and it was wrong. The person was fine. The answers did not exist anywhere except in my head, so there was nowhere else for the questions to go.

This is the mechanism underneath almost every delegation problem I have watched since: your business is only as big as what you wrote down. The first hire is where it surfaces, and the cheapest moment to fix it, because you are documenting a job you still do yourself.

So write the job down before you post it. Not a job description, which is a marketing document. The actual decisions: what this person decides alone, what they bring to you, and the three or four rules of thumb you have never said out loud. A page is enough. The value is not the page. It is that writing it tells you whether the job is a job or just a pile of things you are tired of doing.

The habits you set with person one are the habits you get at person one hundred

Whatever I let slide with the first hire quietly became the standard. How I handled a missed deadline. Whether I gave real feedback or softened it into nothing because I was afraid of losing the only employee I had. None of those felt like precedent at the time. They felt like individual judgment calls about one person, and they were actually the first draft of how the company would operate.

So be slightly more rigorous with your first hire than feels natural, precisely because the relationship is small and informal and there is no HR function to hide behind. Say the hard thing while the stakes are one conversation instead of an organizational norm.

The part nobody warns you about

Somebody is planning their life around a number that comes out of your bank account. That changed how I thought about risk, about cash, and about how I slept in slow months. It arrives all at once with the first hire and it never fully goes away. You just get better at carrying it.

I would not undo any of it. But I would tell the version of myself standing at that decision to spend less time on the forms and more on the page explaining the job, to expect the first three months to cost rather than pay, and to understand that he was not filling a role. He was deciding what kind of company this was going to be, with a sample size of one.

What I find reassuring now is that none of it was talent. Hiring well is a skill, and like most skills it is reps plus a willingness to look honestly at the ones that did not work. Years later we were bringing on a dozen people a month and it felt routine. It was not. It was the residue of every hire before it, starting with the one I had no idea how to make.

Thinking about your first hire?

Writing the job down before you post it is most of the work. That is the part I help owners through at Highland Private Office.

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