Title talk

Working on a golf course as a career doesn’t resonate like it did in the late 1990s and early 2000s.

Non-traditional hours. Miniscule to mediocre pay for those hours as cost of living soars. Years of toiling as an “assistant” to maybe receive an opportunity to interview for a handful of destination jobs.

Thousands of capable millennials have avoided or fled the industry. Those who stuck around are among golf’s most inspiring and creative leaders because they came of management age during an era when less replaced excess. They understand golf’s gigantic bust better than its unsustainable boom. Work prosperity for this generation involves getting through a day without busted equipment.

With the industry in the third year of a surge created due to lifestyle changes in response to a global pandemic, it’s time to brainstorm distinct ways to ensure Gen Z-ers seek golf course maintenance careers and stick around to enjoy better work lives than previous generations.

Boosting pay, a topic covered exhaustively in this column over the past two years, is the most logical solution. Unfortunately, many industry executives and board members still aren’t applying logic to compensation decisions.

Where does that leave industry recruitment and retention efforts?

If you can’t pay somebody more when you seemingly have the resources to do it (well-run private clubs and management companies have fared tremendously over the last three years), then you must look in smaller places. Have you tried rethinking job titles?

I never thought I’d be writing a column suggesting job titles matter. I operate by the motto, “I don’t care what they call me as long as they pay me every two weeks.” I’m also not a young person deciding what I want to do for the next four decades. Titles — and more specifically words in titles — matter to many job- and career-seekers.

Industry titles have remained unchanged for decades. Working on a golf course means you likely start as a “laborer” on the “grounds crew.” Depending on your educational path, you might progress to an “intern,” “assistant-in-training” or “technician” before becoming a second, first or senior “assistant.” Somebody striving to climb atop the hierarchy hopes to land a “superintendent” or “director” position.

Are you as uninspired as I am from constantly hearing and reading these words? Imagine how somebody in their late teens or early 20s feels about working a decade or two as an “assistant.” When 937 open “assistant” positions exist at any given moment, what’s the incentive to spend days clicking to determine which one might be the right fit and pay the bills?

Hundreds of surveys and articles suggest the newest work generation values purpose from their careers and demonstrates passion for the environment, data, technology, happiness and being associated with a caring team. Think about golf course maintenance. The job meshes with all of the above.

Working on a golf course means protecting and enhancing the environment, requires using data and technology to make the most effective decisions, and yields enormous consumer happiness — and nobody can maintain a golf property alone.

By telling young people words they want to hear, the opportunities to show more of them how rewarding the work can be will arise. Consider replacing terms such as “laborers,” “workers” or “crew” with “team” when posting and discussing entry-level positions. Try inserting “environment,” “data” or “technology” instead of “assistant” or “technician” into titles reserved for specialized positions.

A few management companies now employ environmental managers or sustainability directors. It’s a start. But those words and concepts become more meaningful if they reach the facility level.

An Ohio club refers to its top turf position as its “natural resource leader.” On the clubhouse side, a Colorado facility boasts a “people specialist” on its management team. An Iowa club refers to its outside services manager as “director of happiness.”

Snicker. Be dismissive. Stick to norms.

Losing another generation of potential full-time employees isn’t funny.

Changing a few words might be an economical way to alter perceptions and separate your course from a crammed pack seeking enough labor help to reach tomorrow.