Frequently I get a notification on LinkedIn, the red bubble with the number beckons my limbically-hijacked 21st century brain. I open up the brainchild of Reid Hoffman to investigate the cause. Who knows? It might be a recruiter (even if they are from New Jersey) messaging me about a new job opportunity. After all, I’m currently unemployed and I’m all ears to a fruitful endeavor. However, many times it is an invitation from LinkedIn itself. The Microsoft acquisition is telling me that I’m one of the limited hand-picked experts encouraged to contribute to an article that LinkedIn is producing-and I couldn’t be more repulsed.
These articles are often on topics that appeal to the lowest common denominator on the business platform, such as how to encourage creativity or the best time management hacks. I’m not here to say that these subjects aren’t important, they absolutely are. However, there is no shortage of experts and pundits (such as Brene Brown) who exist in those spaces. While each of these salesmen-uh, I mean experts-claim to have the special sauce on these fields, generally speaking the advice they’ll give will be oddly similar to what everyone else in their field is already saying. The consensus itself isn’t bad, in fact anyone who went to science class knows that scientific advancement only happens when new ideas are ruthlessly tested, with only the survivors being added to the forefront of human knowledge.
However, LinkedIn is not playing on the bleeding edge of thought advancement, they are merely trying to pump up their engagement numbers. Given that, why would I want to be yet another faceless contributor to an article in which my writing would be indistinguishable from others? It may come as no surprise to any of my long-term readers (I’m kidding, I don’t have any of those!) that my brain works differently than that of other writers (as shown by the fact that I actually enjoy the process), so therefore my expertise doesn’t neatly fit into a box. While LinkedIn is off being a literary mill with the same tired-old topics that everyone has read thousands of times over by now, I’m off writing the articles that matter, like why I should be allowed to own landmines.
There is another obvious elephant in the room regarding LinkedIn’s constant requests and it’s the p-word: payment. LinkedIn never offers to pay the experts they reach out to for their contributions to the articles. LinkedIn can clearly afford to pay, so this leaves me to believe that they don’t truly value the expertise they seek out. Well, I hate to break it to you, LinkedIn, but I don’t work for free. My landlord does not accept internet clout as payment, nor does the grocery store take likes in exchange for food.
Besides, who exactly are these experts that are sitting around doing nothing all day anyways? Does LinkedIn seriously believe that true experts in their fields have large, unblocked segments of their day, in which they are immediately available to drop everything and start pounding away at their keyboards regarding the virtue of waking up at 8am? LinkedIn must either not hold experts in high esteem, or they vastly misunderstand the workloads, schedules and motivations of top performers. True experts are not a parade of dancing monkeys that can be marched out in unison and at will. The one’s truly moving society forward are far too busy serving as Teddy Roosevelt’s Man in the Arena to be caught dead sparing their brains for free to appeal to a general audience.
“Well Dan, you’ve dunked on LinkedIn’s crowdsourcing program enough as it currently stands, but do you have a better idea?” a negative reader of mine will ask. One solution is to, you know, pay authors. That loud thud sound you just heard was a CPA at Microsoft collapsing of a heart attack as they heard that recommendation. A more realistic solution is to change the initial marketing pitch of these asks. Instead of the transparent flattery attempt by calling users receiving these notifications as experts, a bit of radical honesty can be used instead. The notification can invite the user to add to an article to practice their written communication skills, presenting it as a development opportunity. Specifically, these notifications can be targeted towards those who have no current employer on their profiles. The resulting amalgamation articles can tag each contributing author’s profile, thus helping the unemployed person generate a portfolio that they can show to prospective employers. That way, far more contributing writers would be able to sport the LinkedIn helped me get this job ribbon on their profiles (an obvious marketing boon for LinkedIn). Mutual benefit rather than exploitation would be a more prudent move for LinkedIn. Besides, it’s not like what LinkedIn wants written is groundbreaking material either, most users are capable of fulfilling what LinkedIn is looking for.
With that, I shall leave you with some words from the great philosopher Ray Liotta.
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