This weekend, I woke my LinkedIn profile from its hibernation and spent some time bringing it up to date and dusting off the cobwebs. The good news is that it gave me something to blog about!
I sent my profile into hibernation last fall for a variety of reasons. The main reason was just to come up for air as I found the constant barrage of “inspirational accomplishments” and “incredible journeys” overwhelming. Sprinkled with incredibly sad stories of people having to sell their houses after months of unsuccessful job hunting, made it just too much of an emotional roller coaster ride.
No offense to anyone who’s managed to accomplish anything during these difficult times. And my heart goes out to everyone who needs a job and is still struggling to find one. But I needed to step away from the notifications for a while.
Well, times up! I’m back online and I’m here to write this, let’s call it a, celebratory post.
Back online
To kick things off, I’d need some content for LinkedIn (as is the nature of the site), so I asked Claude (AI) to write a blog post about the style of LinkedIn posts in the style of a LinkedIn post. This is a task for AI because it’s not natural for me to write in, or about, the genre.
Unfortunately, I might have confused it. The AI was working in the context of my blogging-style prompt and you can see how it tries to follow my blog-post style while analyzing LinkedIn accomplishment theater, and while trying to make the post itself LinkedIn-worthy.
What follows is the AI-generated post that I wished I could have written.
I just published a blog post, and you won’t believe what happened next
Yesterday, I sat down to write a simple blog post about content strategy. What started as 800 words of practical advice somehow transformed into a LinkedIn-worthy tale of professional triumph that would make a motivational speaker weep with pride.
Here’s how it happened (and why we should probably talk about it).
The anatomy of accomplishment theater
The original post was straightforward: “Three ways to audit your content performance.” Clean structure, actionable steps, real examples from client work. Standard professional content.
But somewhere between the first draft and hitting publish, I caught myself rewriting the introduction:
“When I started my content strategy practice five years ago, I never imagined I’d be helping Fortune 500 companies transform their entire digital presence. But that’s exactly what happened when…”
Full stop. When did a blog post about spreadsheet formulas become my origin story?
This kind of narrative inflation happens everywhere, but it’s reached fever pitch on LinkedIn. Every mundane professional task gets the hero’s journey treatment. Writing documentation becomes “revolutionizing knowledge management.” Fixing a bug becomes “single-handedly saving the product launch.”
The gratitude cascade effect
The LinkedIn accomplishment post follows a predictable structure that’s bleeding into other professional writing:
The humble opening: “I’m incredibly grateful to announce…”
The journey narrative: “Three months ago, I was struggling with [relatable problem] …”
The breakthrough moment: “Then something amazing happened …”
The lesson learned: “This taught me that [universal business truth] …”
The gratitude callback: “None of this would have been possible without my amazing team/mentor/network…”
This formula works for LinkedIn because the platform rewards engagement, and stories get more engagement than straightforward information. But when we import this structure into blog posts, documentation, or other professional content, something gets lost.
What we lose in translation
The LinkedIn post format optimizes for inspiration and connection. Those are valuable goals, but they’re not always the right goals.
When I’m searching for “how to set up Google Analytics goals,” I don’t need the author’s professional journey. I need clear steps, accurate screenshots, and troubleshooting tips. The hero’s journey just adds friction between me and the information I’m seeking.
Yet I see this creeping into technical content everywhere:
- Case studies that spend three paragraphs on the client’s “transformation mindset” before mentioning what actually changed
- How-to guides that begin with the author’s personal awakening about the topic
- Product documentation that positions every feature as a game-changer
The gratitude-and-journey formula works when the audience came for inspiration. It backfires when they came for information.
The authenticity trap
Here’s the tricky part: most of these LinkedIn-style narratives aren’t fabricated. The gratitude is real. The professional growth happened. The lessons were actually learned.
But when every professional milestone gets packaged as a transformative journey, the format starts to feel performative even when the content is genuine. We’ve created an expectation that professional achievements must be narratively satisfying and emotionally resonant.
This puts writers in an impossible position. Share straightforward information and risk seeming boring or unprofessional. Add the inspirational framework and risk seeming inauthentic or self-promotional.
A different approach
What if we trusted our professional work to be interesting without the narrative scaffolding?
Instead of: “I’m thrilled to share the incredible journey that led to our 300% increase in conversion rates…”
Try: “Here’s what we changed to get a 300% increase in conversion rates, and why each change worked.”
The second version assumes the reader is already interested in conversion rate optimization. It respects their time by getting straight to the useful information. It builds credibility through specificity rather than enthusiasm.
This doesn’t mean eliminating personality or context. It means matching the content structure to the reader’s actual needs rather than the platform’s engagement algorithms.
The LinkedIn exception
LinkedIn accomplishment posts serve a real purpose. They help people build professional relationships, celebrate genuine achievements, and create connections across industries. The format works because LinkedIn users expect and appreciate that kind of content.
The problem isn’t LinkedIn posts being LinkedIn-y. The problem is LinkedIn-ification spreading to contexts where it doesn’t belong.
Technical documentation doesn’t need a character arc. Product case studies don’t need emotional journeys. Blog posts about practical topics don’t need transformative narratives.
Getting back to utility
Good professional writing serves the reader’s goals first. Sometimes that means inspiration and connection. Often it means clear information and actionable steps.
Before adding the gratitude-and-journey framework, ask: what did the reader actually come here to get? Are they looking for professional inspiration, or are they trying to solve a specific problem?
If it’s the latter, skip the origin story. Lead with the solution. Let the quality of your information do the relationship-building work.
Your readers will thank you (but probably not in a LinkedIn post about it).
Thanks, Claude. I couldn’t have said it better myself.
Seriously!