Chinese woman becomes third person charged under Australia’s foreign interference laws
Day: August 4, 2025
Courtesy Matthew Pastorius
- Matthew Pastorius secured a job after initially being rejected and getting an automated response.
- He messaged people on LinkedIn to get contact info for the hiring manager and reached out.
- Pastorius said the person who helped him showed a “graciousness” that job seekers don’t always get.
Matthew Pastorius, 34, has worked in sales and hopes to work in human resources. In 2023, after receiving a speedy rejection for a job he said he was well-qualified for, he contacted the hiring manager and ultimately landed the role. The following has been edited for brevity and clarity.
I saw the job posting, and was like, “Oh my God. This is the perfect role for me based on my experience and my interests.” I was infatuated with the company from the jump, so I threw my hat in the ring. Within 24 hours, I got what seemed like an automated email response: “Thank you, but no thank you,” essentially.
I was just like, “Wait a second. That is not possible. You can’t tell me that you looked at my résumé and said, “This guy doesn’t even come close to what we’re looking for.”
Not taking the ‘no’
I thought, I’m not going to take ‘no’ for an answer because I feel so passionate about this opportunity and so confident that this is a fit. So, I reached out to a couple of people on LinkedIn who would either know the hiring manager or at least be in the vicinity of the hiring manager. One of them, fortunately, got back to me and told me that I should reach out to this person, and gave me her email.
Essentially, I said, “I got your contact information from this person. I’m just reaching out to introduce myself. I applied for the senior manager of brand partnerships role. I’ve already received notice that I was denied. But, like anyone in sales, I can’t simply take ‘no’ for an answer, which you can appreciate.”
I also said something like, “I’m a longtime admirer of the company. I wanted to reaffirm my unwavering interest in joining your team, which I would be honored to represent and grow. And basically, “If you’re hiring again in the future, please let me know. I am attaching my résumé, and hoping we can meet in person one of these days.”
This person said, “Thanks for connecting. I’m putting you in contact with the recruiter.
There wasn’t anything malicious about my wanting to email. I was just like, “You’ve got to be kidding me. This doesn’t make any sense. Why would I get not even an initial screening call?”
When I got connected with the recruiter, who is lovely, I had such a great experience. It was almost as if that initial rejection had never happened. We spoke as if she came across my résumé and picked me out as a needle in a haystack, and proceeded as if nothing had ever gone awry earlier on.
Further down the line, when I met with the company’s president, who was my last interview before getting hired, I explained how I was rejected and reached out. He was like, “I can’t believe that you were rejected so quickly. Looking at your résumé, you’re exactly the kind of person that would want for this role, so I’m going to have to look into that.” It was along those lines.
Think about how many people that might be happening to. I don’t know who’s programming these ATS screening agents. The sad part is that it seems like an ever-evolving game. If you don’t play the game, you can kiss your chances goodbye.
What’s behind cold outreaches
If I have an initial interview, and even if I think it goes great, and they get back to me and they’re like, “You didn’t have this kind of experience that we’re looking for” — whatever it is — at least then I’d be like, “OK, fair point. Totally understand.”
But to get an auto-generated, “Thank you, but no thank you” email, it was just like “Hell, no.” After all the years I put into developing a career in this particular path, you can’t tell me that I’m not qualified for at least a screening interview. It’s maddening.
Looking back on when my cold outreach did work, the graciousness and the humanity of the individual who replied to me and told me to reach out to the woman I wrote the email to — if it wasn’t for their goodness, then this never would have happened.
I don’t think they realized this at the time, or that anyone ever realizes this, but the person on the other side really needs your help. Whether they’re struggling at work, struggling in their career broadly, or their family is dependent on them getting a job, there’s always something very weighted. There’s a lot of gravity behind these cold outreaches.
It’s been really discouraging and sad that when I tried that approach again, I was ignored. I don’t know if it’s sort of a symptom of the job market right now or if more people are starting to do similar things, where they’re just barraging hiring managers and people on LinkedIn for jobs because it’s a really tough market out there.
It used to be that you had to know somebody. But in my experience in the last three months, since I’ve been looking for a job, is that it’s now not even a matter of who you know anymore. I don’t have an answer. Hence why I don’t have a job.
Do you have a story to share about your job search? Contact this reporter at tparadis@businessinsider.com.
Read the original article on Business Insider
As Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine grinds on, Moscow has intensified a parallel front less visible but no less dangerous: a systemic campaign of cognitive warfare designed to distort perception, sow doubt, and erode the political will of its adversaries. On August 1, Foreign Policy published an in-depth piece outlining how the Kremlin has weaponized narratives, manipulating minds rather than battlefields in what has become a hallmark of modern hybrid conflict. Unlike traditional disinformation, this cognitive war spans diplomacy, international forums, expert communities, and even seemingly neutral peace initiatives, targeting not just Ukraine but the strategic unity of the West itself.
Moscow exploits uncertainty to weaken Western decision-making
Cognitive warfare is not about overwhelming the enemy with firepower. Instead, it’s about fracturing their ability to act. According to the Institute for the Study of War, Russia systematically engineers cognitive traps—narratives that compel adversaries to question their positions, postpone action, or make concessions on Moscow’s terms. These traps don’t necessarily rely on falsehoods; often, they are built around selectively framed “rational” arguments that exploit existing fatigue or divisions within Western societies. Talk of “war fatigue,” the “cost of supporting Ukraine,” or the “need for compromise” are repackaged as pragmatic concerns, masking their strategic purpose: inaction.
Russia’s cognitive campaign coincides with growing domestic debates in Western capitals about the sustainability of military and financial aid to Ukraine. From Paris to Washington, signs of hesitation—however subtle—reflect the quiet effectiveness of a strategy designed not to provoke but to paralyze. In this environment, even well-meaning calls for peace risk becoming vectors of Kremlin influence.
Beyond propaganda: an integrated, multi-channel campaign
Unlike conventional propaganda, Russia’s cognitive war is deeply integrated and adaptive. It does not rely solely on state media or troll farms. It co-opts respected academics, think tanks, and international conferences to seed narratives that question the West’s strategic coherence. Moscow’s messages often appear not as direct threats, but as “reasonable” alternatives—calls for negotiation, de-escalation, or “realism.”
This approach is particularly effective in Europe, where Russian-aligned political parties, covertly funded media, and algorithmically amplified messages shape public discourse. The Kremlin’s aim is not persuasion through argument but paralysis through confusion. It wants democratic societies to hesitate, to divide, and ultimately to act against their own interests—voluntarily.
Cognitive warfare extends to Russia’s domestic control
While aimed outward, cognitive operations also serve the Kremlin’s internal objectives. Within Russia, the same tools are used to mask economic stagnation, technological decline, and social discontent. Unlike brute-force propaganda, cognitive warfare creates an alternative logic that makes dissent irrational and submission appear reasonable. It is a strategic adaptation of Soviet-era psychological operations, now amplified by digital platforms and AI-driven messaging.
This dual-use of cognitive tactics allows the regime to maintain domestic stability while projecting the illusion of strategic competence abroad. Internally, it replaces repression with resignation; externally, it replaces confrontation with manipulation.
Democratic resilience requires more than fact-checking
Western democracies have long underestimated the scale and sophistication of Russia’s cognitive war. It is not merely a question of detecting lies or debunking fake news. This is a strategic challenge that targets perception itself—aimed at slowing decision-making, fragmenting alliances, and neutralizing resistance without open confrontation.
Countering this threat demands institutional awareness, coordinated information security, and a clear-eyed understanding that “calls for peace” can serve as tools of coercion when they come wrapped in Kremlin-constructed narratives. Russia may lack the economic or technological clout of global superpowers, but it is rapidly becoming one in shaping cognitive space.
In the 21st century, the battlefield is no longer just terrain—it is thought. And in this domain, Russia seeks not merely to fight, but to dominate.