I found myself reminiscing about the past couple of decades last week and shared some thoughts about the evolution of marketing and the skills that I believe are needed to to be a great modern day marketer.
Another persistent theme in my reflections was the demise of once great brands. Top of my personal list is LinkedIn, which I generally think of today as not much more than a cesspit of humblebrags, motivational nonsense and mind-numbing “thought leadership” posts that no one asked for.
As you can see, I am not sitting on the fence on this one :-) Please ready yourself for a good old Friday venting session…
There are many reasons why I have lost respect for the platform and find myself irritated when I spend any time there, but here are my top reasons for yearning for the good old days.
The invasion of spam and sales pitches
An obvious starting point in my rant is one that I am sure most people will feel – the relentless unsolicited sales pitches.
The shift toward a marketplace-like environment, rather than a professional community, has alienated users who once valued the ability to network organically.
I suspect, if my own personal approach to LinkedIn is one that is shared by others, that this hard sell environment will be severely hurting recent growth as it really is tedious to be on the receiving end of endless hard sells. I now think very carefully about accepting connection requests as I really don’t want to be bombarded with automated messages trying to sell me something that I really don’t want or need.
Maybe that is actually a good thing and it will lead to a focus on quality over quantity? Either way, please stop trying to sell me a HiHI phone system or a new energy contract.
Inspirational sob stories
Maybe the algorithm has decided that I like a good sob story, but my feed is riddled with heart-wrenching personal stories, followed by a tenuous connection to their “professional growth.”
Whether it’s about being rejected from 300 jobs or losing their phone at Starbucks, somehow these tragedies are used as lessons on leadership or resilience. Apparently, you can’t just have skills and experience anymore—you need a tear-jerking backstory to be taken seriously.
Sorry folks, but we all face our challenges and I am not sure that the blending of personal and professional lives is always appropriate or, crucially, relevant. I am a compassionate person (honestly!) but you are not going to win me over by starting with a sob story.
I often find that LinkedIn feels more like Facebook than a professional network. Too many posts have next to nothing to do with work or business. Personal life updates, emotional stories and viral memes are now clogging up my feed. While these posts may well generate engagement, they deviate from the platform’s purpose.
Hustle culture
My next pet peeve is the preaching of the gospel of grinding 24/7.
You would be forgiven for thinking that sleep is for the weak and you are destined for failure unless you are starting your day at 4:00am with a freezing shower then a quick meditation session.
You must have seen the “Up at 3am today. 10mile run, cold shower, meditation, read a self-help book and launched a new company. All before breakfast. What did you achieve this morning?” type post.
I am sorry but I believe in a healthy work-life balance and disagree with the suggestion that you are not working hard enough if you are not seriously running yourself into the ground.
I do not buy into these humblebrags that are ultimately designed to shame those of us who value basic human needs like rest and sleep. Am I really that wrong for questioning how glorifying burnout can be seen as professional?
I also feel that only an idealistic picture of most people’s careers is shared on LinkedIn, as if an Instagram filter has been applied to their professional lives. Most posts seem carefully crafted to show off career milestones or exaggerated tales of overcoming adversity, feeding into the ‘always hustling’ culture. Whilst I would expect this of a recreational social media platform, it is a shame that LinkedIn has ended up down this path.
Cringeworthy motivational quotes
I am not sure if I get more wound up by the endless barrage of motivational quotes or the sycophantic replies that appear to be the standard response, but I really have had enough of stock photos of lions or people staring pensively into the abyss with a meme-like ‘Success is the result of preparation, hard work and lessons learned from failure’ type statements.
Are you really inspired to do anything other than roll your eyes and move on when you read this sort of stuff?
If the flood of ‘this is exactly what I needed today’ type replies are anything to judge by, I fear I may be in the minority on this one, but please give me something chunky and professional rather than generic feel-good garbage.
I would love to be inspired, but cheesy “motivation” is not going to work.
Engagement bait posts
I blame LinkedIn’s algorithm entirely for the trend of people asking nonsensical, clickbait questions. I expect that you know the sort of post that I am talking about – profound questions such as ‘Would you rather earn £200k per year doing a job that you hate or earn £40k doing something that makes you smile every day?’.
I really don’t think that anyone really cares about this sort of clickbait, but LinkedIn’s algorithm, which should be known as the fuelled engagement machine, has incentivised people to post these low-effort, high-engagement traps in an attempt to boost their visibility.
The algorithm’s prioritisation of popularity over professional value is a real problem today as the best content is often buried under layers of fluff and it is very easy to feel disconnected from your network.
With my rose-tinted spectacles, I feel that LinkedIn used to be focused on sharing industry insights and professional knowledge. This shift from thought-provoking professional dialogue to shallow, engagement-driven posts has diminished the overall quality of conversations on the platform.
The net result? The cycle of mediocrity continues…
The rise of the “thought leader”
My next bone of contention is the explosion of self-anointed experts who seemingly exist to bless the LinkedIn masses with their “insights” on whatever topic they’ve skimmed a few articles on.
These ‘thought leaders’ will wax philosophical about everything from leadership principles to blockchain, all while (not very) subtly promoting their latest webinar, book or online course.
If you really look at the vast majority of this type of content, you will realise that they very rarely actually offer anything groundbreaking. Just sprinkle in some buzzwords like “synergy,” “disruption,” and “value-driven solutions,” and voila – you are a LinkedIn thought leader… Write your post in a listicle format for bonus points.
Sadly, I feel that LinkedIn has become more about perception than actual expertise and it is very rare that I read anything that really does earn my respect.
Fair comments or just Friday rage?
So there you have it – my Friday rant!
Maybe I am being a bit harsh and I will admit that there are, of course, some strengths offered by LinkedIn (notably around B2B and account based marketing), but I do feel that LinkedIn has turned into the professional equivalent of a reality TV show. The shallow self-promotion and thin veneer of inspiration are there simply to mask the relentless pursuit of engagement metrics.
LinkedIn has become less about meaningful professional connections and more about building a brand, often at the expense of authenticity. The platform’s focus on quantity over quality has created a space where meaningful professional networking is increasingly difficult to find.
In my humble opinion, LinkedIn has morphed from the go-to platform for professional networking, career development and industry insights to something far less focused on its original mission. Yes, it has enjoyed substantial growth but I fear that this growth has come at a heavy cost.
In its defence, there is a very plausible argument that LinkedIn has simply evolved to mirror today’s culture – one in which superficial engagement matters more than genuine expertise.
Personally, I find that very sad.
