Amazing LinkedIn: A Human Problem!

Figure 1. ASE Inc, DALL·E Hacker Dad vs. Cog Dad…​

 

Hope everyone got some rest after the long weekend.

This one’s about the real problem I found in the LinkedIn experiment. And it’s not LinkedIn. It’s us. In this case — me.

Recap: Professional Social Networking

In the last three articles, we broke down a year-long experiment

• how we classified personalities with machine learning; (big data)

• how the Sycophant archetype dominated reach; (mother f-er)

• and what exactly happened to LinkedIn as a platform?!

And I also explained how the full Tor export paints the collective picture for us - the plebs!

But the kicker is: all of that — the algorithms, the trends, the enshittification — none of it explains the full picture.

This isn’t just about platforms. It’s about what happens to humans using platforms. And how slowly, imperceptibly, we let go of what matters most, and absorb the shit fed to us!

What Kind of User Am I?

There are a lot of ways to use LinkedIn. It’s a bloated platform now, sure, but there’s still real value, a real power under the hood, an oomph for it. Remember those archetypes we found in part one? Let me recap a few — and be honest about how they map to me.

The Corporate Zombie (muggle)

• Behavior: Title updates, anniversary posts, buzzword-laced fluff.

• Tactic: None.

• Goal: None. Just drifting.

The Lurker (random)

• Behavior: Never posts, occasionally likes, reads everything.

• Tactic: Pure consumption.

• Goal: Private intel or soft recruiting.

The Wizard (hacker)

• Behavior: Insightful takes, rarely performs for clicks.

• Tactic: Truth over optics.

• Goal: Signal, not noise.

I’ve been all three — depending on the season, the pressure, or the purpose. This time, I wanted to see what happened when I stopped pretending. Just ran the numbers on myself.

The Human Problem

The big question: Where does the real failure come from? From the tool? Or from how we use it?

I finished the experiment with about 2,000 connections. Not much more than I started with. So I ran a hard reset — checked what LinkedIn gave me that was actually useful. And what I was still craving that it didn’t.

Top 3 things LinkedIn gave me

1. Connections Data — the rolodex. Michael nailed that.

2. Messaging System — useful for business logistics.

3. The old Connection Graph — RIP.

Top 3 things I hated

1. Prioritizing new interactions over old ones.

2. Bloated feed and bloated inbox. Clutter kills value.

3. Constant effort required to fix what it shows me.

When I add it all up: I want updates from the people I care about. The ones I’ve known. The ones I’ve built something with. Instead, the feed throws me influencers, engagement bait, and crap I never asked for.

Debugging Myself

One good way to understand a problem is to try fixing it.

So I exported everything. Fired up a Jupyter notebook. And nuked half my network.

I sliced the connections data in Pandas. Meh. Then I sliced the messages export — and that’s where it clicked.

Out of all messages

• 91% were recruiter spam.

• 6% were sales spam.

• Only 3% were real interaction — human signal.

Turns out, 331 recruiters sat in my 1st-degree connections. Most of the spam came from just 9% of them. And almost all were added during a 2-year period when I hired a personal assistant to help with comms.

I started deleting. Anyone I didn’t know personally — gone. The feed changed overnight. It got quieter. Better. Useful again.

The Deeper Cut

Then I went back. Sorted my connection list by date. The first people I added were from 2007.

And that’s when the face punch landed — riddler, you filthy pid.

I’d forgotten about some of the best people I’ve ever known. I hadn’t spoken to them in years. Some of their last messages to me went unanswered.

So I did what hackers do: - Built another Python Class to map messages + connections in one dataframe. - Started reviewing them one by one.

Observations that followed

1. I know a lot of people — good people.

2. I’ve been a really bad friend.

3. I ghosted people who mattered. Unintentionally, but completely.

So yeah. I blamed LinkedIn — the first kneejerk reaction. Sure, it’s not my fault — but I’m good. And then I called a friend and said, “Let’s automate keeping in touch.” We drafted up a model. A maintenance loop for rdd13r.

Then my friend said: > "I hate it. This is the most dehumanizing thing I’ve ever built."

And he was right.

Every function you outsource to a system — you forget how to do yourself. And this one? Staying in touch with people you care about? That one’s core human firmware.

So the real failure wasn’t LinkedIn. It was mine.

Take a look at the guy I love, Billy! Gosh, he’s a decent human being — I looked up to him! He’s honest to the bone. He ran a hard life sideways in a long minute — nasty divorce. Owned it! Mastered it! Came out on top! Took proactive line in his parenting of the children. Where was I for him when he needed me most? Nowhere. Sideways. I didn’t even know. But when we were together at work — I talked to him every week. So, what does it make me?! If you say asshole — you’d be right!

Who’s To Blame?

LinkedIn isn’t evil. It’s a business. It optimized for revenue. That’s what businesses do. And I knew it, like everyone else did. Hell, I built a ton of systems like that myself!

In the early days, it served the user. Then it served sales and recruiting. Now it serves monetization models. But it still kept my connections. I didn’t!

At no point did it stop me from staying in touch with people I care about. I just didn’t. That’s on me.

My friend and I got quiet.

• “When’s the last time you talked to Aaron?”

• “A year maybe.” “And David?”

• “No idea. Longer.”

• Fuuuuuuu…​.

We don’t need better systems. We need to remember we’re human.

We need to remember we are human! LinkedIn never removed that. It even facilitated it, albeit in round about way. Like for Billy, LinkedIn was my only connection. Nothing stopped me from using that, getting his new number, coming to see him, helping him — but I didn’t! I am solely the asshole here!
And there was a way. By LinkedIn, nonetheless.

Or my other friend, Harrison. The man lived through an epic battle for life. I knew that. I knew he has a proper support system — his church. I knew he will win and come out on top of it. But still, where was I? Was I in his life or right next to it? So, you see, LinkedIn has nothing to do with this. It just makes work connecting easy. But it makes no assumption about the human element of the interaction — it’s all on you! Or me. It’s just an available channel. And a good one at that!

And so, I removed everything that is not human from my connections. Don’t fret — if we hadn’t met, you’re gone. Maybe my algorithm removed more people than it should have. But I will fix it by hand — like I should have in the first place.

Conclusion

All these platforms are just tools.
But the responsibility to be human — that’s on us.

If you want to use LinkedIn right

1. Decide what you want it to do — messaging? rolodex? networking?

2. Learn the tool’s quirks. Or find a better one.

3. Use it — but don’t expect it to do your job for you.

And the job is simple:
Stay in touch with the people you care about.

That’s never been the system’s job. It’s always been ours.

I’ve been an asshole.
And I’ve been oblivious.
Friends — forgive me!
I bow before you!
I love you!
Always have.
Just not good showing it.

Some of my friends gave me excuses for me: you were busy, refugees, PMCs, weapon systems…​ But what does that have to do with the simple: "How are you," "I missed you."

Let’s not forget — we’re human.

My son (15) is right: "Daddy, you have trouble prioritizing."

I hope you guys, don’t!