The LinkedIn mirage or when narcissism replaces competence

There’s a strange theater playing out on LinkedIn, a never-ending performance where everyone is an “innovative thought leader”, “visionary strategist”, or “transformational change agent”. Scroll long enough and you’ll begin to wonder if you’re the only one not running a multi-million-euro startup from a hammock in Bali.

But behind this shiny digital résumé lies something deeper and more troubling: a culture of curated narcissism.

Inflated titles and imaginary skills

Once upon a time, people lied on their CVs in small ways, maybe they exaggerated how fluent they were in Excel or left out that they were fired from a job. But LinkedIn has turned this into an art form. It’s not uncommon to see interns calling themselves “Associate Product Managers”, freelancers claiming to be “CEOs of boutique agencies”, or job-seekers who list “10+ years of experience” in tools that haven’t even been around for a decade.

Skills are added like fashion accessories. One day, it’s blockchain. The next, it’s AI, agile frameworks, or “neurodiversity-informed management practices”. Whether they’ve used them or not doesn’t matter, what counts is the appearance of relevance.

Endorsements from strangers

Another curious phenomenon is the skill endorsements. You know the ones: your old high school classmate, whom you haven’t spoken to in 12 years, suddenly endorses you for “strategic planning” and “Python”, It’s like Pokémon trading cards for grown-ups. The more shiny badges, the better.

But do these endorsements actually reflect a person’s ability to plan strategically or write decent code? Often, no. They reflect how good someone is at pressing the “+ Endorse” button in exchange for mutual approval.

The cult of personal branding

LinkedIn used to be a place for networking and job-hunting. Now it’s a self-marketing platform masquerading as a career hub. Everyone is building their “personal brand”. They post carefully filtered success stories, humblebrags disguised as reflections (“I failed… but then I learned… and now I’m a better leader”), and endless motivational quotes lifted straight from Instagram.

Ironically, authenticity has become just another product to sell. The more “vulnerable” a post appears, the more likely it is to be algorithmically rewarded, even if it’s as staged as a politician’s baby-kissing photo op.

All of this would be amusing if it weren’t also a problem. When appearance trumps ability, companies make bad hires. When buzzwords eclipse clarity, teams communicate poorly. When everyone is pretending to be an expert, real expertise becomes harder to spot.

This culture of self-inflation also affects mental health. Young professionals feel pressured to perform success instead of building it. Job seekers compare themselves to polished facades and wonder why they don’t measure up. It’s imposter syndrome on steroids.

Beyond the noise: better ways to connect

If LinkedIn feels more like a stage than a workspace, you're not alone, and thankfully, it's not the only option out there. Depending on your field, there are other platforms that focus less on self-promotion and more on real work and connections. AngelList is great if you're into startups or tech roles. Behance is solid for creatives who want to showcase their actual projects, not just titles. Polywork offers a more modern take for people juggling multiple roles or interests. And even tools like GitHub or ResearchGate, while more niche, are proof that professional credibility can be earned through what you do, not just what you say. Maybe it’s time we stop chasing followers and start building something real.

Still, not everyone wants to walk away from LinkedIn, and maybe they shouldn’t have to. After all, the idea behind it isn’t inherently flawed. A place where professionals can connect, share ideas, and find opportunities? That’s a powerful concept. The problem is how it’s evolved, or rather, how we've adapted to its incentives. Over time, it’s become less about genuine professional growth and more about performance: who can sound the most visionary, rack up the most endorsements, or go viral with a humblebrag.

But maybe the answer isn’t to burn it all down. Maybe it’s to use it differently, to resist the urge to play the game and instead, reshape the space we already occupy. Because if enough people start showing up without the posturing, without the personal brand masks, then maybe, just maybe, authenticity can make a comeback.

The way forward

What if we started being real on LinkedIn? Not brutally honest, no one needs to hear about your third espresso breakdown, but just… truthful. What if we posted less about being “driven by purpose” and more about what we’re actually learning or struggling with?

We might find that authenticity, in its raw and unpolished form, is what actually stands out. That not being a “guru” or “ninja” might make people trust you more, not less.

Because in the end, the most impressive people aren’t the ones with the best LinkedIn profiles, they’re the ones who don’t need to pretend.