Quitting LinkedIn | Cap Watkins

I quit LinkedIn this morning.

It’s kind of crazy to think that, even a few years ago, I felt I was getting a lot of value from the service. I never took a job sourced from LinkedIn, but I certainly had a few interviews that blossomed out of Inbox messages. It also served (and still does, honestly) quite well as a résumé replacement, allowing me to spend less time tweaking my work history and more time preparing portfolios and for interviews. In fact, in leaving, that feature is the one I’ll miss the most.

But then again, I’ll get to avoid the LinkedIn recruiter spam, letting me know about exciting system operations positions (because I have familiarity working around coding languages) or sending obvious form mail designer inquiries. I’ll also be free from the totally random “Add me to your network” emails from people I’ve never met or worked with (mostly recruiters, but definitely not limited to that). And, mostly, I’ll never again receive the latest LinkedIn email they’ve signed me up for on-launch. I won’t have to ever sigh that “this is bullshit” sigh, login to LinkedIn and disable that latest email subscription.

I considered just filtering all LinkedIn emails to my Trash, but then what’s the point of having LinkedIn?

Maybe I’ve just outgrown the service, but I think it’s something else. When it started, LinkedIn was about connecting you and the people you know (and endorse) professionally. It was the answer to not wanting to add your boss on Facebook. It was a place to source potential job candidates through your professional network. Getting a message from someone on LinkedIn meant that you were pretty closely connected to each other. It was personal. Useful.

Then they sold all of that to the recruiters. And as the usefulness of your Inbox went down, the “update” emails from LinkedIn became more numerous and varied (like trying to plug a dam with your fingers and watching more leaks spring up). I guess that’s what it takes to take a company public and to keep it profitable. It’s just sad the things we do to our lovely, useful products in order to take them to the next level. There must be another way.