How to brief a role properly

I read a lot of job briefs. Clinic owners and managers send them to me every week, and over six years of placing clinicians I have learned to tell within a few lines whether a role is going to fill quickly or sit there for months. The difference is almost never the clinic. It is the brief.

Most of the roles I work on fill in two to four weeks. The ones that drag tend to share the same handful of problems, and they are all fixable before you ever post a thing or pick up the phone. So I wanted to write down what a brief looks like when it does its job: it pulls in the right people and quietly lets the wrong ones rule themselves out, before either of you wastes an interview.

A good brief is not a longer brief. It is an honest, specific one. Here is how to write it.

Start with the work itself, not a wish list of personality traits

The single most common thing I see is a brief built almost entirely out of adjectives. Must be passionate. Must be a team player. Must have a great attitude. None of that helps a good injector decide whether your role is right for them, because every clinic says it and none of it describes the actual day. Lead instead with what the person will actually be doing. What treatments make up the bulk of the role? Anti-wrinkle injections and dermal fillers, skin treatments, threads, a particular device? Be concrete about the mix, because a clinician reads that and immediately knows whether it fits their hands and their interest.

Name the devices and the modalities you actually run. A dermal therapist who lives on one laser platform will sit up for a role that lists it and scroll past one that says skin treatments and nothing else. The more precisely you describe the work, the more the right person recognises themselves in it.

Describe the pace and the patient, so people know what they are walking into

A high-volume, fast-turnover clinic and a slower, consultation-led one are two completely different jobs, and the same clinician will thrive in one and burn out in the other. Tell people which you are. How many patients in a day? Are appointments fifteen minutes or an hour? Is it walk-in energy or a booked, relationship-based list?

This is where self-selection does its best work. The injector who wants a steady, high-touch list will read your fast-paced brief and not apply, and that is a good outcome for both of you. Hiding the pace to widen the pool only means you find out at week three of employment instead of at the brief, and by then it has cost you both far more.

Be upfront about pay, including commission

This is the one I will push you on hardest. Good candidates right now are far more selective than they were even a couple of years ago, and they won't move unless it is genuinely worth it. When pay is hidden or vague, the strong people, the ones with options, simply don't engage. They assume there is a reason you are not saying, and they move on. You lose them before you ever speak.

So give a real band. For injectors and dermal therapists in Australia I generally see hourly rates from about $35 to $60, with commission on top, typically 5 to 15 percent depending on the clinic. A senior injector with a strong patient book sits at the top of that band, and in rare cases above it. If your role pays commission, say so and explain how it works, because for a busy injector that structure can be the whole decision. A clear, honest pay picture is not oversharing. It is the thing that gets your best applicants to lean in instead of scrolling past.

Tell them about the team and the culture, honestly

Candidates are more brand-conscious than they have ever been. They want to know who they would be working for, not just what they would be doing. Who is on the team? Is there a lead injector or trainer they would learn alongside? Is this a single-room clinic or a busy multi-site group? What is the clinic actually like on a Tuesday afternoon?

You don't need to sell a fantasy. A small, calm clinic is genuinely appealing to a lot of people, and so is a big, energetic one. What matters is that the brief reads like a real place rather than a template, because the right person is choosing the place as much as the role.

Spell out the training and progression on offer

Good clinicians think about where a role takes them, not just where it starts. If there is mentoring, advanced training, exposure to new treatments, or a path toward more responsibility, put it in the brief. It is often the difference between attracting someone who is simply available and attracting someone who actually wants this particular step in their career.

This matters even more for the people you would most like to hire. The candidates with options weigh growth heavily, and a role that clearly offers it will pull them away from one that looks like a flat, sideways move.

Be precise about hours, location, and flexibility

Location is one of the most common reasons a role drags, so don't bury it. State where the clinic is, what the days and hours actually are, whether weekends or late nights are part of it, and whether there is any flexibility on any of that. Part-time, full-time, set days, room to negotiate, all of it belongs in the brief.

Flexibility is a real lever at the moment. The clinics that will flex a little on days or structure consistently attract and keep people more easily than the ones that will not. If you can offer some, name it. If you genuinely cannot, be honest about that too, so the people who need it do not apply and then withdraw.

Watch your must-haves, they may be shrinking your pool

Some of the slowest roles I work on are slow because the requirements are tighter than they need to be. A demand for very specific modality experience, a particular degree, or a fixed number of years can quietly cut your candidate pool down to almost no one, and the people who do meet every box are often already employed and not looking. The market is referral and network driven now, and a rigid set of must-haves is exactly what stops good people, who could clearly do the job, from ever raising their hand.

So separate what is genuinely non-negotiable from what is just preferred. Registration and the legal requirements stay firm. But ask honestly whether you need five years or whether three plus the right attitude does the job, whether you need that exact device or whether a strong clinician will pick it up. Every requirement you relax thoughtfully widens the pool of people who can actually fill the role.

Why a sharp, honest brief fills faster

The clinics that hire quickly are usually the ones that made it easy to say yes and easy to opt out. A specific, honest brief does both. It gives the right person enough to recognise themselves and commit, and it gives the wrong person enough to step aside before an interview. Vague briefs do the opposite: they pull in a wide, mismatched field that takes longer to sift, and they let the strong candidates assume the worst about whatever you left out.

Speed matters more than people think. Good candidates don't wait. A clunky, drawn-out process or a brief so generic it cannot generate real interest loses them mid-stream to a clinic that moved faster. Most roles can fill in two to four weeks when the brief is clear and the process keeps moving. Get the brief right and you have done most of the work before the first conversation.

If you would rather just talk it through

Writing a brief that does all of this is genuinely a skill, and it is most of what I do before a single candidate is contacted. If you have a role coming up, you are welcome to send me what you have, even if it is rough, and we can shape it into something that pulls the right people in. A short conversation about the work, the team, and the pay usually gets us most of the way there.

Common questions