The LinkedIn Humblebrag: A Study in Digital Narcissism

LinkedIn. The once-practical platform for professional networking has evolved into a peculiar blend of motivational seminar, humblebrag arena, and corporate confessional. You’ve seen the posts: “Starting my next adventure, which taught me so much about resilience and growth.” Or the classic ski-trip reflection: “Connecting with nature in the Swiss Alps reminded me to pause and reflect”—all while conveniently ignoring the massive ecological footprint of said ski resort.

And don’t get me started on the motivational quotes. Einstein’s probably rolling in his grave from all the misattributed advice about failure and success. Then there’s the self-indulgent oversharing: “After a year of ups and downs, I’m excited to share…” (Translation: I just want likes.) Sprinkle in a healthy dose of sycophants commenting, “Amazing journey! Let’s catch up soon,” and you have the perfect storm of digital narcissism.

Yes, I’m Guilty Too

How do I know so much about this? Because I’m guilty of it myself. LinkedIn is weirdly addictive, like scrolling through a never-ending stream of other people’s highlight reels. The temptation to post something vaguely profound—or at least professionally impressive—is hard to resist. And yet, resist I must. It’s a slippery slope from thoughtful updates to becoming that person who treats LinkedIn like their personal diary, peppered with stock photos and hashtags like #GrowthMindset.

Gamifying Your Network (Literally)

Have you noticed LinkedIn’s new features? They’re not just letting us humblebrag anymore—they’re turning it into a game. Quizzes, polls, and engagement prompts now dominate the feed, asking questions like: “What’s the most important skill for leaders in 2025?” Is this really about community engagement, or is it about something bigger?

Let’s not forget who owns LinkedIn: Microsoft. And what’s Microsoft deeply invested in? AI. Every interaction, every click, every motivational post about “pivoting in the face of adversity” feeds an algorithm somewhere. Perhaps it’s all part of the endgame to train OpenAI’s models (yes, this post was partially edited by ChatGPT—meta, I know).

There’s Got to Be Something Better

Is there an antidote to all this performative professionalism? I’d argue yes, and it’s simpler than you think: go out and actually meet people. At events like Capital for Cures, you can have real conversations—ones that don’t require hashtags or end with, “Let’s circle back later.” Our boutique gatherings bring together senior leaders, investors, and innovators in healthcare and biotech for meaningful, face-to-face discussions. No fluff, no “growth journey” updates—just real connections.

The Plea: Stop the Nonsense Updates

LinkedIn, for all its faults, remains a powerful tool for networking. But can we collectively agree to stop the nonsense? Let’s retire:

• The Inspirational Selfie: No, your photo in a ski jacket doesn’t scream resilience.
• The “New Adventure” Post: We get it—you’re starting something new. Congrats, but we don’t need a life lesson about it.
• The Motivational Quotes: Let’s leave Churchill and Oprah out of it, shall we?

Instead, let’s use the platform for what it was originally intended: sharing meaningful insights, opportunities, and professional milestones. Or better yet, log off occasionally and make some real-world connections.

In the meantime, I’ll be working hard to avoid the pull of yet another humblebrag. (But if I ever do slip, please—call me out.)