Is LinkedIn becoming like Facebook?

I’ve been going through something recently, and it forced me to take a small step back. I’m not quite out of the woods yet and am still writing LinkedIn profiles for select clients. Writing profiles feeds my soul (and my family). While I initially struggled to wrap my head around the curveball life has thrown my way, I slowed on content creation, and if you’ve recently sent me a message, you may have noticed that it’s also taken me a little longer than usual to reply.

I could tell you what that ‘something’ is. I could write you my very own sob story. But I’m not going to because I’m not convinced oversharing is a good thing.

When I think about oversharing – crying selfies, European holiday pics, people’s children on their first days of school – words like gratuitous and perhaps even narcissistic come to mind.

Good content is not about YOU. It’s about teaching the people you serve and, in turn, reinforcing your expertise.

Sure, it’s great to share something about who you are outside of work, but does the thing you are talking about, help others? And is it what you really want to be known for - does it contribute to your authentic professional brand? Because after all, LinkedIn is a professional context, isn't it?

How did we end up here?

Decades ago, personal information was kept private, and we certainly weren’t sharing our deepest struggles with workplace acquaintances. But as the internet’s potential beamed into focus, what was deemed as appropriate began to change.

In 1991, social psychologist Kenneth Gergen warned of a future where technology pushed human beings toward a state of multiphrenia, a fragmented sense of self that is pulled in so many competing directions the individual becomes lost, non-existent.

“I am linked, therefore I am,” Gergen cautioned in his book, The Saturated Self.

This sentiment is eerily accurate. Today, we don’t compartmentalise our lives. The line between personal and professional has blurred – even more so now that many of us are working from home. We are seeking those watercooler moments online, and social media has become our weapon of choice in pursuit of connection and understanding. It’s no wonder more than half of the world’s population actively uses social media, and almost half of all Australians use LinkedIn.

So, here we all are, together, on a quest for human-to-human interaction, a quest that, I believe, has led us astray.

Yes, LinkedIn is becoming more like Facebook

Facebook has evolved into a bizarre amalgamation of mildly-relevant memes, disturbingly-targeted advertisements, and photos of long-lost classmates’ family birthday celebrations.

You might have noticed your LinkedIn feed morphing into something similar. The platform isn’t exactly helping with the new ‘funny’ emoji. LinkedIn is also running a Creator Accelerator Program (CAP), which in part has recruited influencers from TikTok and Instagram, where oversharing is more acceptable.

Maybe it makes sense for LinkedIn’s future – with an already saturated market at the senior end, it wants to appeal to Millennials, Gen Z, and soon enough, Gen Alpha. But for me, it’s worrying to see someone I know on a professional level expose their most intimate thoughts between their stock-standard announcement posts, job openings, and quips about leadership.

On the one hand – I like knowing more about them. But content that has an emotional overtone or is out of character is stickier. When someone overshares they stop being the talented expert and instead become stuck in my head as that guy whose dog suffered a broken leg.

The point is this: Every single piece of content you publish on LinkedIn should have a purpose that relates to your goal.

If you open up about a struggle, yes, you may attract more engagement than you’ve ever had before. You might even make someone feel seen, like they aren’t alone in their battle. But you are diluting your personal brand.

People can’t remember everything. When you post content, stay in your lane. That way, when you are remembered, it’s for the right reasons.

What to do when you’re tempted to overshare

So, you’ve got this thing you really, really want to share. Not sharing is making your work life difficult – if everyone only knew what I was going through, my behaviour would make so much sense.

Trust me. I am right there with you. Here’s what I’ve done and what I think you could do, too. Ask yourself this:

Will this ‘thing’ hurt my business or confuse what I am known for?

If yes, don’t share it. If you can’t link your vulnerability back to what you do in a way that feels natural and authentic (as I’ve done previously here and here and am doing again soon in a multi-authored book), then don’t share it. Just don’t, because once it's out there, you can’t take it back. As always-eloquent Andy Foote said in a recent post, you can’t put the toothpaste back in the tube.

If you are low on energy and need more headspace – two things I have been contending with these past six weeks – focus on commenting on other people’s posts and DM’ing people. Stop or slow your content creation and build and reinforce what you already have. Quality relationships will deliver more long-term gains, anyway, so nurture them.

Good content is an act of empathy

It’s an idea I always come back to (explored in this book). Your content should really, truly serve your audience. What is their problem? What questions do they ask you? What can you offer that no one else can?

If you don’t have empathy to give for whatever reason, it’s okay to sit back for a while and take a breather. Those mantras about pumping out content consistently aren’t true. LinkedIn can wait. I promise. Life and relationships matter more.

As for me, I’m thrilled that I have continued to write profiles for many fabulous clients throughout this period. I’ll try to stop feeling guilty about backing off on content creation. I was thrilled to win a Top Voice Award for some of the most popular content in Australia in 2021. I probably won’t win it this year. And I need to be okay with that because I’m fast learning that I can’t prioritise everything.