Thankfully, I did manage to land a job, one I greatly enjoy, and now find myself on the other side of the hiring process. This winter I am serving on a committee charged with interviewing applicants for a new professorship here at the Maryland Institute College of Art. Wary of lawsuits, the school has seen fit to train me and my colleagues on what the law permits us to ask applicants. All questions, H.R. has advised, should relate to three core concerns: Can the applicant do the work? Will the applicant fit in? Will the applicant love the job?

I was surprised to learn that love is now considered essential to the employment relationship. Some of us are lucky enough to have lovable jobs, but this strikes me as an extreme standard to apply with respect to most positions.

Consider customer service, in which high enthusiasm is often a requisite. Disney sets the standard in this realm, and anyone who’s been to Disney World knows why. All employees who interact with the public are considered members of the “cast.” Custodians, concessionaires, crowd control staff — in the Magic Kingdom, they are all expected to perform as if they love their work.

I was there with my family a few days before New Year’s, and the crowds were bone-crushing. At times you could not take a step without clipping a child’s heels. No matter: The staff was unflappable, their smiles relentless. I recall one employee standing outside a restaurant, charged with telling people that the restroom was to the left. She did this time after time, grinning all the while, as the crowd bore down on her.

If Disney is fanatical about customer service it’s because Americans are, too. Who are the lunatics who rage online about faulty restaurant service? When I waited tables at Pizza Hut, there was no Yelp. The most customers could do was gripe to the peevish manager, who would duly scold me. I had no spunk for serving pizza, and I don’t see why I or anyone ought to have had it.