As I'm scrolling through LinkedIn, I'm immediately greeted by a parade of corporate cringe. There it is - a Fortune 500 company sharing a "relatable" meme about hating Mondays, as if they're not the very reason most of us dread the start of the workweek. The lack of self-awareness is staggering.
LinkedIn has devolved into a cesspool of performative corporate activism, humble-brags thinly disguised as inspiration, and enough buzzwords to make even the most seasoned bullshit artist blush. It's like watching a horde of suited zombies desperately trying to prove they have a pulse.
We're living in a time where faceless entities masquerading as people are frantically clawing for the attention of anyone under 40. The result is a grotesque carnival of awkward, tone-deaf attempts at connection that land somewhere between a dad joke and a hostage video on the comfort scale.
This cringefest isn't limited to clueless social media posts. We all know the annual rainbow logo changes from companies that do nothing in countries where LGBTQ is criminalized. Let's not forget the "we're all in this together" COVID ads from corporations simultaneously axing thousands of jobs.
I would also rather endure a root canal than participate in mandatory "fun" office activities. So I've developed a cringe detector for my job search. Here's how I filter out the worst offenders:
LinkedIn Lunacy Check: I start by diving deep into a company's LinkedIn presence. Are they spewing out forced memes? Are they hashtagging every trendy social issue without any substance? If scrolling their feed makes me want to hurl my laptop out the window, it's a hard pass.
"Culture" Red Flags: I'm immediately suspicious of any company that won't shut up about their "amazing culture" on LinkedIn. If their posts look like a stock photo convention threw up, featuring diverse groups of people laughing maniacally at empty laptops, I'm out.
Employee Horror Stories: I scour LinkedIn and other review sites, searching for stories of forced "team-building" nightmares, cringe-inducing company mantras, or other signs that the company is trying to manufacture culture like it's a product on an assembly line.
Interview Bullshit Detector: During interviews, I listen for the telltale signs of rehearsed corporate speak that mirrors their LinkedIn content. If the answers sound like they were generated by a woke ChatGPT after binging on HR handbooks, I'm already drafting my rejection email.
Marketing Mishap Analysis: I dissect recent marketing campaigns plastered all over LinkedIn. Are they shamelessly co-opting social movements to hawk their wares?
By using these 5 simple methods, I've managed to dodge more than a few bullets in my career. It's not perfect - sometimes the true horror of corporate cringe only reveals itself once you're trapped inside. But it's saved me from countless hours of mindless icebreakers and team-building exercises that make waterboarding look appealing.
What these soulless entities need to understand is that you can't manufacture authenticity in a boardroom. It comes from actually giving a damn about your employees and customers. And WE have to understand: As job seekers, we wield more power than we realize. Every time we reject a cringe-factory masquerading as a workplace, we're sending a message. We're telling corporate America that we see through their BS, and we're not buying it.
Look past the ping pong tables and kombucha on tap. Dig deeper than the promises of a "work hard, play hard" culture (which usually translates to "sacrifice your personal life on the altar of capitalism"). Look for substance. Look for companies that treat employees like humans, not "internal customers" or "brand ambassadors" or whatever dystopian label is trending in HR circles this week.