Readers of these fine and enlightening pages might know, from a whimsical breakdown I shared here last month, that I am currently jobless. The upside to this is that few people on the planet know more about the workings of their air-fryer than I do. The downside is that I am compelled to spend a great deal of time on LinkedIn. But, by treating it as an anthropological opportunity rather than a desperate attempt to once again be paid for taking bank holidays off, I’ve been able to piece together a few key principles for using LinkedIn without becoming LinkedIn. These are my findings.
• Treat it like you’re overhearing conversations in a quiet pub - these people aren’t talking to you but rather for themselves and that’s absolutely fine. Regard it as a guiltless sort of eavesdropping rather than with the expectations (actually, entitlement) you’d feel if you’d bought a ticket to hear someone speak.
• Lower your tolerance for good stories told by bad storytellers. Fascinating things happen to tedious people all the time.
• Examine your own hypocrisy when it comes to self-indulgence – you’re not allowed to complain about someone’s prattling if you’ve read, however irritably, to the end.
• Cynicism is kryptonite for eccentricity. Going into this place with your scorn at-the-ready will deny you access to some of the weirdest characters you’re ever likely to meet
• Check your superiority - if you were truly above these things you’d never even have opened this article. If I was truly above them, I’d never have written it. The worst kind of gawker is the one who pretends they’re a dignified ‘observer’.
• Arguing with anyone in search of an argument is like wearing sizzling bacon slacks to a poorly run crocodile farm.
• Let fakers fake – the only people they’re hurting are the gullible and, you never know, some day you may need to swindle those very same people.
• Don’t kid yourself that this is a modern illness - if you gave prehistoric man the opportunity to brag more widely they’d grab it like the last mammoth cutlet.
• Believe the people who try the least to be believed. (This is also true for proper life.)
• If you find yourself generally enlightened more than once a month then never buy anything before consulting a sensible friend
• React badly, and noisily, to thievery. Regard the people who steal words or ideas as if they’ve stolen your bike, pet, car, child and liver. It amounts to pretty much the same thing.
• Some people will need you to know all the things they would never say, do, buy, expect or think. They won’t ever realise that not sharing these things is also an option, so don’t waste your energy pointing it out.
• If there are bees in your bonnet, take it off and choose a less annoying hat.
• It’s hard to say for certain who the absolute worst people here are, but the ones who confuse ‘it’s wrong’ with ‘it’s not for me’ are probably it.
• Some people hate everything that isn’t ’the past’. Avoid them as if they were a large swan on a narrow path.
• If your first reaction to anything is to point out a spelling mistake, you are a bad person.
• I’d say resist bingeing every post or comment of the most awful people you encounter, but that would be literally impossible. But don’t feel too bad about it. These people would still be awful, whether you were there or not.
• Some people will offer good advice, some will offer clichéd advice, some offer no advice and some will offer awful advice. (And you’ll never guess which of these gets most indignant when you don’t take it.)
• LinkedIn is like an obnoxious host at a party - guiding you away from the people you know and like (and would like to know and like) toward the worst people in the room. The trick is, no matter how often it happens, to always wander back to the good ones.
• And, finally, the good jobs posted on there will sound pretty good. The bad jobs will sound amazing.
Good luck out there.
Andrew Boulton is a copywriter and copywriting coach based in Nottingham. He’s written for a load of famous brands but even more tiny brands you’ve probably never heard of. He taught copywriting and creative writing at the University of Lincoln and now works with brands, businesses and agencies to help their teams have more fun with their writing. He’s the author of the bestselling book ‘Copywriting Is: 30-or-so thoughts on thinking like a copywriter’ and the world’s first (he says) children’s book about copywriting, ‘Adele Write an Ad’.
Readers of these fine and enlightening pages might know, from a whimsical breakdown I shared here last month, that I am currently jobless. The upside to this is that few people on the planet know more about the workings of their air-fryer than I do. The downside is that I am compelled to spend a great deal of time on LinkedIn. But, by treating it as an anthropological opportunity rather than a desperate attempt to once again be paid for taking bank holidays off, I’ve been able to piece together a few key principles for using LinkedIn without becoming LinkedIn. These are my findings.
• Treat it like you’re overhearing conversations in a quiet pub - these people aren’t talking to you but rather for themselves and that’s absolutely fine. Regard it as a guiltless sort of eavesdropping rather than with the expectations (actually, entitlement) you’d feel if you’d bought a ticket to hear someone speak.
• Lower your tolerance for good stories told by bad storytellers. Fascinating things happen to tedious people all the time.
• Examine your own hypocrisy when it comes to self-indulgence – you’re not allowed to complain about someone’s prattling if you’ve read, however irritably, to the end.
• Cynicism is kryptonite for eccentricity. Going into this place with your scorn at-the-ready will deny you access to some of the weirdest characters you’re ever likely to meet
• Check your superiority - if you were truly above these things you’d never even have opened this article. If I was truly above them, I’d never have written it. The worst kind of gawker is the one who pretends they’re a dignified ‘observer’.
• Arguing with anyone in search of an argument is like wearing sizzling bacon slacks to a poorly run crocodile farm.
• Let fakers fake – the only people they’re hurting are the gullible and, you never know, some day you may need to swindle those very same people.
• Don’t kid yourself that this is a modern illness - if you gave prehistoric man the opportunity to brag more widely they’d grab it like the last mammoth cutlet.
• Believe the people who try the least to be believed. (This is also true for proper life.)
• If you find yourself generally enlightened more than once a month then never buy anything before consulting a sensible friend
• React badly, and noisily, to thievery. Regard the people who steal words or ideas as if they’ve stolen your bike, pet, car, child and liver. It amounts to pretty much the same thing.
• Some people will need you to know all the things they would never say, do, buy, expect or think. They won’t ever realise that not sharing these things is also an option, so don’t waste your energy pointing it out.
• If there are bees in your bonnet, take it off and choose a less annoying hat.
• It’s hard to say for certain who the absolute worst people here are, but the ones who confuse ‘it’s wrong’ with ‘it’s not for me’ are probably it.
• Some people hate everything that isn’t ’the past’. Avoid them as if they were a large swan on a narrow path.
• If your first reaction to anything is to point out a spelling mistake, you are a bad person.
• I’d say resist bingeing every post or comment of the most awful people you encounter, but that would be literally impossible. But don’t feel too bad about it. These people would still be awful, whether you were there or not.
• Some people will offer good advice, some will offer clichéd advice, some offer no advice and some will offer awful advice. (And you’ll never guess which of these gets most indignant when you don’t take it.)
• LinkedIn is like an obnoxious host at a party - guiding you away from the people you know and like (and would like to know and like) toward the worst people in the room. The trick is, no matter how often it happens, to always wander back to the good ones.
• And, finally, the good jobs posted on there will sound pretty good. The bad jobs will sound amazing.
Good luck out there.
Andrew Boulton is a copywriter and copywriting coach based in Nottingham. He’s written for a load of famous brands but even more tiny brands you’ve probably never heard of. He taught copywriting and creative writing at the University of Lincoln and now works with brands, businesses and agencies to help their teams have more fun with their writing. He’s the author of the bestselling book ‘Copywriting Is: 30-or-so thoughts on thinking like a copywriter’ and the world’s first (he says) children’s book about copywriting, ‘Adele Write an Ad’.
Further Reading
