LinkedIn is filled with opportunities. It can connect you with people and companies from all over the globe, launch careers and open doors. In theory, it is one of the most useful professional tools of our time.
In practice, though, it has become an oasis of self-congratulatory posts and updates, toxic competition and job applications that disappear into the digital void.
It is social media in a blazer.
There are chances to find mentors, jobs and incredible opportunities on LinkedIn, but those chances are narrow if you are not willing to sift through postings for hours. With more than 300,000 job applications submitted on the platform per hour, LinkedIn’s job forum is overwhelming.
The unemployment rate for college graduates ages 22 to 27 soared to 5.6 percent at the end of last year. College students are facing the toughest job market the United States has seen in years. For many students and young professionals, that means spending hours tailoring resumes, writing cover letters and reaching out to strangers all for the possibility of never hearing back.
LinkedIn mirrors other social media sites in how it lures users with nonstop self-promotion. The platform exploits the same impulse as Instagram and Facebook: comparison. This is masked by LinkedIn’s proclaimed culture of career-advancement and professionalism.
Instead of comparing vacations, outfits, bodies or lifestyles, users compare internships, titles, salaries and accomplishments. The pressure to keep up remains. Now, it’s dressed in corporate attire.
In the hollow posts that circulate on LinkedIn, someone is always thrilled to announce something, honored to share something and humbled to begin something. The polished, repetitive language strips the success of its humanity.
In an effort to compete on LinkedIn, users exaggerate how involved they are with an organization and inflate their qualifications. This might help them in a job search, but could give other users a feeling of conditional self-worth, and give rise to toxic productivity.
I have felt a need to turn away from LinkedIn. Every time I log on, I get a pit in my stomach, and I know I’m not alone. Excessive use of the platform is correlated to an increase in stress, anxiety and symptoms of depression. It can make people feel behind even when they are doing perfectly fine. It makes professional success feel urgent and public when in reality it is neither.
LinkedIn should not be a place where posting exists. Users should solely be able to update their profiles, functioning as a resume hub. The app should connect users to jobs that their resume complements, without needing to pay for a premium membership. Why are we putting a price tag on the main function of the app?
If you are reading this and also feel hopeless when scrolling through LinkedIn, fear not. We are all winging it together in one way or another. Your LinkedIn feed may look like a world of confidence and crazy success, but behind that profile, someone might be as unsure of their path as you are.