The New Social Trap
The LinkedIn Prophecy: A Future of Solitary Workers
Reid Hoffman, co-founder of LinkedIn, recently predicted that the traditional 9-to-5 work schedule might become obsolete by 2034, and that by then we will all be—or should be—self-employed. For him, and for many other digital neoliberal prophets, this isn’t a threat, but an opportunity: a world where everyone becomes their own boss, free to choose clients and shape their careers without constraints.
But reality tells a different story. We’re not heading toward a new age of freedom, but toward total precariousness, where workers no longer have rights or protections, and must compete with one another in an increasingly saturated market. Personal branding becomes the bare minimum for survival: if you’re not visible, you don’t exist.
Originally created as a professional network, LinkedIn has become the perfect battleground for this transformation. Amid motivational posts and carefully curated success stories, the message is clear: a person’s worth is measured by their ability to promote themselves.
The Fuffa-Gurus and the Commodification of Identity
Riding this wave are the so-called personal branding gurus, multiplying across platforms, selling courses, books, and strategies to build the “best version of yourself.” They teach you how to optimize your profile, post viral content, and practice aggressive networking—all with the promise that, if you follow their rules, you’ll become a thought leader in your field.
But the truth is, there isn’t room for everyone. In a world where everyone is desperately trying to stand out, the result is a homogeneous crowd of professionals, speaking the same language, posting the same content, chasing the same algorithms.
Building a personal brand becomes a prison: if you stop posting, updating, and showcasing yourself, you’re forgotten. You are only as visible as your last interaction.
The Atomization of Society and the End of Workplace Solidarity
Personal branding is just another expression of an increasingly individualistic society, where competition has replaced collaboration. If everyone must be unique and extraordinary, then no one truly belongs to a community anymore.
In the workplace, this has devastating consequences. The concept of a collective career path disappears: there are no longer companies where people grow together, no unions defending workers, no support networks among colleagues. Everyone is alone in their struggle for visibility, hoping to be noticed before the algorithm buries them.
This atomization benefits the system: an isolated worker is a weakened worker, unable to negotiate, to demand rights, or to build alternatives. And while we all invest time and energy in standing out, those who control the market continue to make the rules.
From Flexibility to Total Precarity
The mantra of personal branding is simple: “reinvent yourself constantly.” If the market shifts, you must shift with it—no guarantees, no stability. Flexibility, once sold as an advantage, becomes chronic insecurity.
The gig economy has taken this model to the extreme: workers with no stable contracts, no guarantees, forced to sell themselves day by day. Freelancers, creatives, consultants, influencers—they all depend on platforms that can shut down a profile, change an algorithm, or erase a market overnight.
Behind the dream of personal branding lies a brutal truth: we are no longer workers, but products on display, constantly fighting to remain relevant.
Commercial Isolation: From Forced Solitude to Marketed Solitude
Here’s the paradox: while personal branding pushes us to be constantly connected, it also leads us to a deeper and deeper loneliness. To counter this, a parallel market has emerged: spiritual retreats, digital detoxes, and curated disconnection experiences.
Today, you can pay to spend a few days without internet, to hide away in a luxury cabin, to meditate in a boutique monastery. Solitude, once an experience of growth and introspection, has become a niche product for those who can afford it.
This commodification of isolation perfectly illustrates the trap we’re in: first, we’re forced into hyperconnection, then we’re sold escape as a solution. In both cases, we’re consumers of something that should be natural and free.
The Toxic Myth of the Solo-Entrepreneur: If You Fail, It’s Your Fault
One of the most dangerous illusions of personal branding is the glorification of the solo-entrepreneur—the self-made lone wolf who needs no boss, no colleagues, no support structures. A nearly heroic figure, sold as the only valid model for success in the 21st century.
Books, podcasts, online courses, and “success stories” all repeat the same mantra: anyone can become their own business—just believe, work hard, create your brand, and success will follow. But this narrative leaves out one crucial fact: most people don’t make it, not because they lack skill or motivation, but because the system is built to benefit only a few.
The solo-entrepreneur rhetoric leaves no room for context: if you don’t succeed, it’s because you didn’t try hard enough, you didn’t market yourself well, you are the problem. There’s no mention of cutthroat competition, the absence of safety nets, or the simple fact that there isn’t enough space at the top.
This creates a toxic mindset, where people blame themselves for every failure, pouring even more time, money, and energy into building their personal brand—without ever stopping to ask why “success” has to be a constant obsession, and why a person’s worth should be measured by their marketability.
The truth is, the world has always thrived on community, support networks, exchange, and collaboration. The solo-entrepreneur isn’t a model of freedom—it’s a mechanism of isolation, designed to fragment labor and destroy any form of solidarity. A perfect way to shift all the responsibility onto the individual, while those in power continue to shape the game.
Escaping the Trap: Reclaiming Community and True Solitude
So the question is: is there an alternative? Can we escape this endless race of self-promotion?
Maybe—but it requires a radical shift in perspective. Instead of building a personal brand, we should rediscover the value of community: support groups, collectives, and professional networks that don’t compete but collaborate.
At the same time, we must reclaim authentic solitude, the kind that doesn’t need to be monetized. Log off, disconnect without needing to justify it, and take the time to think without the pressure to produce content.
Personal branding has convinced us that the only way to stand out is to always be visible. Maybe the real act of rebellion is to return to simply being human.