THE FAINT AROMA OF SOUR GRAPES

At one time or another, most of us have been passed over for a job we really, really wanted. Not something that we thought would have been a nice opportunity, but something that fell squarely into the "my whole life I have been praying for this kind of chance to prove myself" category.

It's one thing to be passed over for some other candidate who's equally qualified -- or, gasp, better qualified. But what about when someone gets tapped who, in your opinion, would be a disaster in that position for the company?

In other words, to quote a reader in New York: "What do you owe your employer if they've made a decision that was not in your favor and which you think will serve them poorly?"

A friend of the reader's was being considered for a foreign assignment to train new employees. The company chose someone else who, according to the friend, has poor people skills, including impatience and general rudeness.

"Presumably the managers considered all angles of all the candidates before making their choices," my reader writes. "But I wonder if people like my friend owe it to their companies to raise their concerns."

The reader feels that the answer is "maybe," but she can't see a graceful way to do it.

"More important, is there anything to be gained at this point by being candid?" she asks. "I fear it will make my friend look petty and her bosses feel defensive."

Her friend is inclined not to say anything, thinking that it would probably come off as sour grapes. My reader agrees that it's far safer at this point to let the issue go, "but I'm not sure if it's the right thing."

My reader's concern over her friend's professional well-being is well-intentioned. And it's only natural for her friend to feel righteous indignation after a poor choice has been made in filling the spot she really wanted.

But is she obligated to alert her bosses to the damaging character traits in her colleague who got the job? No.

She's right in assuming that it would be difficult for her bosses not to register her concerns as sour grapes, but that in itself doesn't outweigh her duty as an employee to defend her employer's interests. Even if she feared being seen as biased, it would be her duty to come forward if she knew something factual about the colleague that her employers did not, something that truly might put the company in a perilous position -- for example, "She killed a man in Reno once, just to watch him die."

There is no factual issue here, however. This is essentially a judgment call -- "A is too rude to be right for this job" -- and, to be fair, it would be hard even for the employee to be sure that there wasn't some self-interest in her own feelings on this issue. Absent specific, compelling information previously unknown to her employers, there is therefore no obligation for the employee to come forward.

The friend's concerns are, after all, ones that her bosses should have uncovered in interviewing the candidate. If they missed these aspects of the candidate's personality, they did a lousy job in the screening process. It is not up to my reader's friend to set them straight on how bad a pick they've made.

It's equally likely, however, that after weighing their choice'sstrengths and weaknesses the bosses decided that, in spite of a reputation for lapsing into rudeness, that person was best suited for the assignment.

The right thing for my reader's friend to do is to trust her own instincts and let the matter lie. If their pick turns out to be the disaster she anticipates, the bosses will find out soon enough and,hopefully, take full responsibility for making a poor choice.