The blueprint for Dystopia: Imagining a world where specific trends in contemporary society are taken to extremes, exposing their underlying flaws.
I stepped on the scale last month at the doctor's office, and it read 234.8lbs. I didn't think anything of it until I glanced at my diagnosis in "MyChart," which read the words, "obese." I'm six feet three inches. I don't need a scale to tell me I could lose a few pounds, and I certainly don't need a report telling me I'm obese. But while I'm feeling brave, let me tell you a few other things about me you might not see at first glance: I'm missing a tooth, I wear black because it's slimming, I have a snoring problem, and I police the photos I share of myself that aren't flattering with threatening remarks to my children as they attempt to "rage bait" me with them.
And we're just talking about my appearance. I haven't even gotten into how I act offline, how polarizing I can be, how critical I am of youth sports coaches, or my shortcomings as a father. In fact, the one thing that I do feel good about is my willingness to admit that I'm not perfect, all while contradicting everything with the Utopia I so elegantly paint for socials. To me, my online reputation is ideal, only secondary to "my brand," which I front.
I am without a doubt part of the problem, as the world that was flipped upside down ten years ago, with the emergence of my "social activity," flipped me right alongside it.
This social ethos I'm contributing to has me pondering an idea that was recently brought to my attention in a video a few weeks ago: What does it mean to be successful on social media? What does it mean on LinkedIn? On Instagram? Tiktok???? Is it reaching the status of influencer, and if so, what does that even mean? Followers? Engagement? Before I get into my thoughts on the "so-called group of influencers" posing the question, I want to share a quick story. A few years ago, a client asked me to talk with his daughter, who at the time was in college, about her future aspirations, and as we spoke, it was clear that she knew what she wanted to do; she didn't know how to admit it. "I want to be an influencer," she finally confessed, but when I asked, "What is an influencer?" She literally had no idea. "She just wanted to take pictures of herself (the flattering kind), and share them on social, and somehow this would be fulfilling for her. The irony is, I'm not sure the end game had anything to do with her bank account or actually influencing anyone; it was simply about the attention she would receive. I couldn't blame her for thinking that way because it's not uncommon.
But then we have the "LinkedIn Coach," who first posed the question of having success on social media (Look up Lara and you'll find her crew of associates in the comment sections; you'll know because their comments appear not to be written by a bot). They all seem to have this ideology on influence that paints a picture of what success looks like on LinkedIn, only they don't create content about anything other than how to create content for LinkedIn, as if they a) work for the platform and b) believe that social media success is a real thing. On the surface, it's as if they've created their Ideal world; however, very few people live in their fictional societies. I'm talking about a culture that is propped up by AI and bots that leave hundreds of comments that all agree with their way of thinking. It's creating artificial social proof with a slight twist of either patronization or arrogance, pointing out what "we all need to be doing," all while failing to recognize that the Utopia that they envision as "impressive" is becoming more and more resembling a Dystopia with serious flaws. It's as if they believe the lie they're telling themselves. In one of his videos, one of the "so-called LinkedIn influencers" goes on to say in a podcast that having 300,000 LinkedIn followers is equivalent to having three million on Instagram. It's that type of extravagant thinking that, when combined with the toxicity of what was mentioned above, produces useless schemes to create influence, or as they coin, "success," while on the surface ignoring the practical needs of real connection.
That's why when the "LinkedIn Leaders" of the world step out from behind the keyboard. The cleverly written prompts they've conjured up to decieve us, and walk out into the streets for lunch or coffee, and no one recognizes them, they don't question why not, because they're not stupid, they know that 300,000 followers on LinkedIn is not the same as 3,000,000, and even if it was, they still understand that the content in which they share isn't timeless, it's not something people will remember you for.
Because they don't have actual influence, but what they do know is that online, people are listening, people are following, and people are paying attention. The flaw with that seems so evident to me, and that's the world in which they live isn't real; it's a dystopia.
I don't know the exact amount, but Lebron gets paid something like 500k per post on social media to promote a product. You could make a strong argument that he's an influencer or even that he's achieved success on social media, but then again, he didn't cut his teeth posting tweets; he's a basketball player with his own shoe named after him, and the difference between LeBron and the "so-called creators defining success" on social media is that when Lebron walks down the street in the real world, people recognize him.
Thanks for reading,
Derek
"Don't be conformed by the patterns of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind."
