Just when you were starting to forget what we all went through with Covid, there is a new perilous affliction going around.
It is not airborne. It is not seasonal. And sadly, it is not mild.
It spreads through feeds, comments, and connection requests. It presents itself as wisdom, vulnerability, and leadership. But once you have seen it, you cannot unsee it.
I call it Social Influenza.
Mike Winnet identified the original strain with 'LinkedIn Influenza'. Consider this the musical remix. Same symptoms. Same behaviours. Same slightly embarrassing rash. Just with a bassline and an orchestral hit.
I wrote this song as a love letter to all the tiny, familiar behaviours we have somehow normalised on LinkedIn and in B2B marketing culture.
The humblebrag that starts with “People always ask me how…” when nobody has asked.
The 4am gym routine bros who seem to think we are impressed by their lack of sleep.
The stock sunrise. The fake struggle. The faux inspirational anecdote about a candidate on hard times who turns out to be the “best hire ever”, despite never existing.
The “Thrilled to announce” conference selfie where the only thing announced is a purchased ticket.
The one line. At. A. Time. Formatting that turns a basic thought into a scrolling hostage situation.
The all caps UNPOPULAR OPINION that is actually the safest opinion in the room.
The PDF gated behind 'Comment SEND IT' like it contains state secrets, rather than fifty slides of recycled frameworks
The instant DM pitch that arrives before the connection acceptance has even cooled.
The stolen viral posts, reheated and served again like yesterday’s chips.
None of this is new. None of it is evil. But all of it is mind numbing theatre masquerading as content and influence.
It is karaoke dressed up as the Grammys. Powered by a desperate need to be liked.
The joke is that most of us have probably done at least one of these things at some point. I certainly have. The line between sharing and showing off is thin. The line between useful and self indulgent is thinner still.
What worries me is not the behaviour itself. It is how easily we start to confuse noise with value.
One liners become thought leadership.
Engagement becomes evidence of impact.
Formatting becomes a strategy.
Virality becomes a proxy for truth.
And slowly, without meaning to, we train ourselves to perform rather than to think. To provoke reactions rather than to help people make better decisions. To optimise for the algorithm rather than for the human on the other side of the screen.
That is what the song is really poking at.
Not individuals. Not platforms. But a culture that rewards surface over substance and volume over depth. A culture where being seen can start to matter more than being useful.
Social Influenza resonates because it is recognisable. But it is also a small warning sign.
If everything is a personal brand moment, nothing is a real conversation.
If every post is a performance, nobody is listening.
Should you really be able to call yourself a thought leader if no one is actually being led.
I would love to be part of a wave that calls time on all of this.
Less performance. More real.
Less posing. More candour.
Less 'professionalism'. More human.
Less “Agree?” More you.
We are all hit with so much noise in our working lives. We should probably show a bit more respect for each other’s attention. We do not need to pretend to be anything other than ourselves.
And if you ever catch yourself typing “People always ask me how…”, maybe pause, smile, and check yourself before you wreck yourself. Don't let the influenza win.
Listen to Social Influenza on the Marketing Mixtape