Why LinkedIn's 'Most Important People' Break Down When Someone Disagrees with Them
Many crave thought leadership but panic at the first pushback. Here's why visibility online isn't for the faint-hearted.... and never was.
Visibility has become a currency, and nowhere is it spent more awkwardly than in the hands of the LinkedIn Thought Leader. These are not public intellectuals in any rigorous sense, but rather self-appointed sages of hustle, armed with recycled takes, and a compulsion to post about leadership as if it were a new strain of enlightenment. They aim for provocation but wilt at the slightest disagreement.
A comment that questions their logic? Blocked.
A reply that offers a counterexample? “Negative energy.”
The entire exercise is performance.
They want exposure, yes, but only the flattering kind. They crave the spotlight as long as it’s from the right angle. The problem is, platforms don’t offer directional lighting. When you’re “seen,” you’re seen from all sides, and that includes the people who didn’t get the memo about your genius.
So we’re left with this odd contradiction: individuals voluntarily entering the public square, megaphone in hand, then crying foul when the crowd responds. If you’re going to hand out hot takes like they’re TED Talk hors d’oeuvres, don’t act surprised when someone brings heat of their own.
Posting Is Optional, But Nobody Told Them That
There is no Content Drafting Police. No one is standing behind these would-be visionaries with a ring light and a cattle prod, forcing them to post another reheated take on “the future of work.” And yet, every single day, thousands voluntarily log on, open the digital stage curtain, and broadcast their thoughts like they’re solving diplomacy.
The punchline? The moment someone raises an eyebrow, these bold posters crumple. You’d think they were being interrogated by the Hague. The block button becomes the digital panic room. Comment sections go dark. The curtain closes with dramatic whimpers of “I didn’t ask for negativity in my space.”
So what gives?
Posting scratches itches. Psychological ones. It hits a trifecta:
Competence — Look how wise I am, as validated by 28 likes and a clap from someone I met once at a conference.
Belonging — The dopamine rush of peers validating your post with “🔥” or “So true.”
Autonomy — The feeling of being the main character of your professional narrative… until someone from HR DMs with a “quick chat?”
We’re watching Maslow’s pyramid rendered in high-res personal branding. And within this pixelated quest for self-actualization, a single dissenting comment is heresy.
The irony is thick. Posting is entirely optional. But many behave like they were pushed onto the stage, lines forgotten, audience hostile. No one forced the curtain open. They just didn’t expect the spotlight to reveal anything less than applause.
The Sweet, Addictive Taste of Prestige With None of the Spine Required
If ancient philosophers had access to “Top Voice” badges, the Western canon might look very different. Prestige used to be earned through scholarship, contribution, or sacrifice. Today? You can manufacture it with confidence, spacing, and a vaguely motivational tone.
It’s not difficult. Write in short lines, pepper in a personal anecdote, and watch the validation pour in. You’re building your brand, scaling your voice, creating “impact.” Prestige, now available for next-day delivery.
But the moment someone pokes a hole in the argument many crumble. The tone shifts. Comments get deleted. Suddenly, nuance is “negativity.” Disagreement is “misunderstanding.” The entire idea of dialogue gets recast as a threat to one’s personal safety. Or worse, to their engagement metrics.
This isn’t leadership.
Real thought leadership involves openness, discomfort, and yes, contradiction. It means accepting that ideas, once public, are fair game. But the new class of professional posters wants only applause.
They want the fruits of influence without the roots of responsibility. Prestige, without pressure. Visibility, without vulnerability. Public voice, private rules.
And platforms, of course, reward it all.
The Internet Is a Mirror, Not a Hug Machine
There’s a harsh but necessary truth about posting in public: you don’t get to choose how people respond. If you step into a public square, someone might cheer, someone else might ask a follow-up question, and a third might raise a skeptical eyebrow. That’s how discourse works. Welcome to the internet.
But too many posters behave as if public platforms are meant to function like curated dinner parties, where only invited guests may speak, and everyone agrees the host is brilliant. The second an outsider offers a counterpoint, the reaction is a meltdown. The post gets edited, comments get deleted, and suddenly we’re being told that “LinkedIn just isn’t what it used to be.” It never was. You just got ratioed.
Instead of engaging, they screenshot dissenting replies, add a sanctimonious caption (“This is what we’re dealing with now”), and serve it up to their loyal followers as evidence of persecution.
Critique is reframed as harassment.
Skepticism becomes “toxicity.”
And thus begins the familiar cycle of digital martyrdom: “I guess we just can’t have honest conversations anymore.” No, you just didn’t want one.
If you’re posting hot takes about productivity hacks that “change everything,” or calling for “radical honesty in leadership,” you don’t get to cry foul when someone exercises that honesty on your post. This isn’t bullying. This is visibility doing its job.
There is a very simple escape hatch: don’t post. Truly. It costs nothing. If you can’t tolerate the basic dynamics of disagreement, scrutiny, or someone having a different opinion, then perhaps the public square isn’t your stage.
Or as the kids say: log off. Touch grass. Not every opinion needs an audience, and not every audience will applaud.
Blocking as Brand Strategy: The Digital Emotional Support Blanket
The block button is the modern miracle cure for discomfort. Once a tool of self-protection against genuine harm, it’s now being handed out like candy at a personal brand seminar.
To be clear, blocking actual harassment is necessary. No one should have to engage with rage replies from burner accounts or endure harassment disguised as “debate.” But that’s not the kind of blocking we’re seeing.
What we have now is a new phenomenon: preemptive blocking as strategy.
Blocking not just trolls, but ideas.
Blocking disagreement delivered calmly.
Blocking nuance.
Blocking someone who dared to say, “This may be oversimplifying a bit.”
If you’re even slightly off-brand, you’re out. It’s reputation micro-surgery.
Some call it audience curation, which sounds a lot more intentional than it is. In reality, it’s often emotional avoidance. Psychologists would call it avoidant coping: the unwillingness to engage with mild discomfort or conflicting viewpoints. Delete, block, pretend it never happened. A digital blankie for the ego.
From a personal brand perspective, this approach makes sense if your main goal is control. The smaller and more agreeable your echo chamber, the easier it is to keep the metrics just right. Heart emojis flow freely when no one’s allowed to raise a brow.
But here’s the cost: you lose credibility. Quickly. The moment your audience realizes you’re allergic to dissent, your “thought leader” mask slips and reveals something else entirely: an influencer in thought-leader drag. And we’ve already got a surplus of those.
If you can’t tolerate questions, you’re filtering. And that’s not leadership. It’s content curation with a superiority complex.
The loudest voices chasing recognition are often the least prepared for what that actually entails. They dream of engagement, of reach, of being “a voice in the space.” But they want the kind of attention that claps politely, not the kind that raises a skeptical hand.
Public discourse is not a stage play where everyone agrees on the script. It’s closer to a boxing match. You don’t just throw punches. You take them. That’s the exchange. That’s the contract. If you’re posting big ideas for thousands to see, someone will eventually push back. And if that causes a full-blown crisis? You’re protecting ego.
So here’s a modest ask to all aspiring thought leaders:
Get comfortable being wrong.
Engage without flinching.
Let your ideas breathe in the open air, where they might be tested.
Or, if that feels like too much, take the off-ramp. There’s no shame in not posting. You’ll gain time, peace, and the rare joy of never being screenshotted mid-meltdown.
Some people aren’t built for the spotlight. That’s fine. Just don’t step onto the stage and act shocked when the lights turn on.
At StratEx - Indonesia Business Advisory we help professionals sharpen their voice, and their personal brand.. Contact us if you’re interested to speak with clarity, own your message, and hold your ground.