Gen Z treats LinkedIn like Instagram for ambition

Maybe we should follow their lead

Read this post on my blog.

Every single college-aged kid I know has a LinkedIn profile. You'd think: what's the point? They have no career experience. But Gen Z treats LinkedIn like an extension of their college application, which makes sense since they worked hard to frame their accomplishments within compelling personal narratives for admissions. Gen Z sees that it doesn't make sense to throw that effort away. And what's a better receptacle for those carefully crafted stories than LinkedIn?

The new professional aesthetic is boundaries

When my son Z first told me he needed a suit, I laughed. I thought back to the last time I bought someone formalwear and told him, "People don't even wear suits to funerals anymore because they don't own suits."

"I need it for my LinkedIn headshot," he said.

My first response was LOL. But then I checked LinkedIn, and I couldn't believe how many college kids were wearing formal clothes in their profile photos.

I told him to borrow a suit because, apparently, most kids at his school keep suits in their dorm rooms. The borrowed suit looked awful. "Just forget it," I told him. After a quick lesson on detecting poor fit, he sent me a new picture. It was perfect.

"It's AI," he said.

What? It turns out kids use AI headshots because artificial intelligence does a better job of capturing who they really are from a series of uploaded photos. Gen Z: accidental AI philosophers.

Gen X fought hard to eliminate formal dress codes at work. I got sent home from my first Fortune 500 job because my clothes were "too ratty." I remember thinking it was ridiculous, but I kept my mouth shut and went home to change.

Gen Z doesn't fear dressing up for their headshots because they know there's zero chance they'll be dressing up every day for work. There are no offices. But more importantly, there's zero chance they'll put work on a pedestal that destabilizes everything else. Their formal LinkedIn photo is a visual representation of boundaries—a picture of their work self that signals they will not mistake their workplace for family.

The new storyline is announcements: "So excited to share..."

One of the most Gen Z types of announcements is for a completed project. They learned from the college application process that getting A's in required classes became a non-differentiator. Project results were gold for college applications, so naturally Gen Z thinks that projects are gold for resumes.

LinkedIn reinforces this by giving projects equal billing with work experience. Here's a typical example:

Just shipped my first AI-powered Chrome extension! It summarizes news articles in Gen Z language and calls out bias. Would love your feedback—link in comments!

Here's an announcement that reminds me of the ubiquitous millennial Instagram victory lap, complete with the "so blessed" sentiment:

Thrilled to announce I'll be attending Columbia this fall to pursue my Master's in Data Science. Never thought I'd get here after switching majors three times and feeling totally lost. Here's to finding your path.

And another with that magnetic redemptive arc:

Last year, I got rejected from every internship I applied to. This year, I'm headed to Salesforce, and I'm bringing everything I learned with me. Keep betting on yourself—even when it's quiet.

The pictures accompanying these posts are corporate and branded. There's often an infographic or slide deck, courtesy of Canva, which has replaced Microsoft Word as the basic minimum work tool. (This makes sense: AI excels at what Microsoft Word does and struggles with what Canva does.)

The new professionalism echos a childhood built on social media

The algorithmic dopamine loop is still there. I watched Z diligently comment on his friends' posts and noticed a culture of encouragement mixed with insider knowledge. For example, when his friend "proudly shared" that he'd received a scholarship for Hispanic students, Z knew the kid was maybe 1% Hispanic. So Z trolled him in the comments by writing "Congratulations, you totally deserve this!" in Spanish.

Kids also game the skills section like ninjas. It used to be that you only listed skills if someone endorsed you for them. Gen Z controls their own skill narrative by listing abilities and attaching them to projects they've completed. Z's friend listed Python even though he could barely code. Friends left endorsements like: "He elevated our team to the next level with his excellent Python skills."

Z recently posted that he was "thrilled to share" his undergraduate research position at a medical school lab. He spent hours crafting an announcement that was the length of a tweet.

"Mom, it's my career!"

Once he posted, he sent a Snapchat announcing his LinkedIn update. His final words: "Ok, light it up in the comments. Let's go!"

The comments poured in as Z watched with pride. And really, so did I.