
Hashtag...Who?
With LinkedIn followers numbering in the six and seven figures, career influencers you’ve never heard of have an enormous megaphone.


March 26, 2025
Liz Ryan doesn’t seem like a celebrity. If you stopped for a chat with the mother of five at the grocery store, you’d notice her flaming red hair, dimples, and obvious intelligence, and you’d continue on. “No one asks for my autograph,” she jokes. Her LinkedIn résumé includes her stint on stage as Mother Abbess in a Loveland, Colorado, production of The Sound of Music. (“Wore the habit, sang ‘Climb Every Mountain.’”)
Most likely, you haven’t heard of Ryan’s New York-based company, Human Workplace, which she founded in 2012. And you’d be forgiven if you forgot to download her 2025 Career Guide—or never heard of it in the first place.
But if her name doesn’t ring a bell, trust us, you’re missing out. With just shy of 3 million followers on LinkedIn, and many more across the 2,500 advice articles she has published in Forbes, Ryan happens to be among the most-read career experts in the world. That’s right: 3 million followers—roughly the population of Chicago! This puts her among a small, powerful group of influencers on LinkedIn, many of whom command enormous followings, and whose word is often taken as career gospel.
Historically, the voices of American business—the business and career experts who have landed lucrative speaking tours and book deals—have been a hodgepodge of CEOs, founders, academics, and talking heads. The reality today is much different: Most top influencers on LinkedIn have never run a large-scale business, managed a significant number of employees, or conducted research on workplace topics, let alone been chosen by a board of directors to helm a multinational. They might have dropped out of the corporate world years ago, or never entered it in the first place. If you read their bios, in fact, one common denominator is their lack of experience in corporate channels, alongside phrases like “15 years experience” in the bio of a 28-year-old.
To be sure, the professional world benefits from an influx of thoughtful and diverse perspectives. And this is exactly what these high-powered but mild-mannered influencers offer. But if you dig into their résumés, it’s usually not apparent how they managed to climb to the top. With so many followers, they wield a megaphone that’s among the most powerful in social media. Anyone who ever slogged through writing LinkedIn posts without attracting more than three likes has to envy these influencers. Inevitably, the questions race through your mind: Who are these people? What’s their secret to so many followers? “I’m equal parts inspired, impressed, and—OK, fine—a little envious,” says Justin Belmont, CEO of marketing agency Prose Media in New York. “Do I want to be them? Who doesn’t?”
Most top influencers on LinkedIn have never run a large-scale business … let alone been chosen by a board of directors to helm a multinational.
#The Early Influencers
LinkedIn says that the program recognizes posters who “consistently demonstrate expertise and leadership in their respective fields in ways that educate, inspire, and inform the larger community.” Of course, each influencer on the site has their own origin story.
To understand LinkedIn influencers, you need to first understand the origin of the whole concept of a business influencer. Since the industrial revolution, the reach of such experts has extended across books, articles, and speeches. Dale Carnegie set the gold standard, building a juggernaut lecture tour and selling over 30 million copies of his book, How to Win Friends and Influence People (1936). He too was a hustler: His birth name was Carnagey, which he changed to Carnegie at age 31 because of its easy spelling and assumed association with tycoon Andrew Carnegie, to whom he was not related.
But here’s where it gets weird. Initially, LinkedIn Influencers were the cream of international business and power—everyone from Michael Bloomberg to Meg Whitman to Tony Hsieh to David Cameron (remember, the former prime minister of the UK). In 2017, around the time that the word “influencer” began to conjure sweatpants-clad teenagers demonstrating makeup techniques online, the program merged with another LinkedIn initiative called Top Voices. Today, Bill Gates is still a Top Voices pick. But so are many hundreds of people you’ve never heard of. Some have follower numbers in the low thousands, others in the millions; in both cases, their bios often may skip important details such as their job and/or
educational histories.
Today’s professional influencers invariably flock to LinkedIn as their home arena; it is, after all, the world’s most dominant professional-networking platform, hosting north of 1 billion users, 230 million of them in the US. To put those figures in perspective, that’s nine out of 10 adults in America. Yes, there are other professional social-media platforms, but LinkedIn is omnipresent—the Facebook of the business world—and provides one-stop shopping for B2B customers. The platform has been owned by Microsoft since 2016.
Critics of LinkedIn compare it to a dating site: Users feel like they’re one click away from Bill Gates (37 million followers) or Sir Richard Branson (18.7 million), or at least one “Easy Apply” away from the job of their dreams. The reality is more mundane: Recruiters use LinkedIn to filter candidates for basic job history and skills, while professionals use the site as a live résumé that sometimes spouts opinions. “For board candidates, I suggest that they keep their feeds active with their followers,” says David Vied, global sector leader for the Medical Devices and Diagnostics practice at Korn Ferry. “I don’t judge what people post—but when it’s narcissistic and self-serving and not professional, you can’t look away.”
LinkedIn has long realized the value of users who can’t look away, whether the poster is famous, engaging, or controversial. In 2012, LinkedIn began designating top thought leaders in their industries as official LinkedIn Influencers. These leaders are now the platform’s cornerstone. Dozens of LinkedIn initiatives and algorithms may have come and gone, but the influencers program has remained, because it spurs a stream of unique content, which attracts readers ranging from business students to C-suite executives.
But here’s where it gets weird. Initially, LinkedIn Influencers were the cream of international business and power—everyone from Michael Bloomberg to Meg Whitman to Tony Hsieh to David Cameron (remember, the former prime minister of the UK). In 2017, around the time that the word “influencer” began to conjure sweatpants-clad teenagers demonstrating makeup techniques online, the program merged with another LinkedIn initiative called Top Voices. Today, Bill Gates is still a Top Voices pick. But so are many hundreds of people you’ve never heard of. Some have follower numbers in the low thousands, others in the millions; in both cases, their bios often may skip important details such as their job and/or
educational histories.
LinkedIn says that the program recognizes posters who “consistently demonstrate expertise and leadership in their respective fields in ways that educate, inspire, and inform the larger community.” Of course, each influencer on the site has their own origin story.
#If You Build It, Someone Will Come
Many of the LinkedIn Influencers who draw the highest traffic tell a similar tale. It goes like this: They began as small-business owners who couldn’t afford to advertise online or off, so they began posting free content and amassing small followings. They were dubious that anyone would read what they wrote. “I do remember thinking, ‘This is probably a waste of time,’” says Ryan, who began publishing lengthy posts on LinkedIn a dozen years ago, back when the platform (and much of the internet) was pushing longer-form blog content.
At first, building a LinkedIn following is a game of trial and error. For a while in the aughts, Neil Patel (700,000 followers), cofounder of online marketing agency NP Digital, would post articles critiquing the initiatives of blue-chip companies. Those companies would then proceed to hire his agency. “They were productive teardowns,” he says. “I got a lot of hate for it, but everyone can always improve, especially at scale.” Patel’s posts rarely went viral; the content that gleaned the most followers, he found, was general advice in the vein of “What My Mom Taught Me That’s Driven My Success.”
Popular posters invariably discover the contradiction at the heart of their efforts: The posts that go viral and garner them thousands of followers in a day do not necessarily earn money. Unlike their counterparts on other social-media platforms like Meta and Instagram, LinkedIn posters usually can’t trade on their follower numbers for lucrative advertising deals with consumer-product companies. That means that most followers’ only value is indirect, as potential future customers. Patel’s “a-ha!” moment came when he realized that he had far more followers than his competitors…and only a fraction of their revenues.
Changing course, Patel began pumping out posts heavy on storytelling about workplace experiences and found those posts correlated with higher sales. The formula for posts driving the most revenue—which might include videos, infographics, and carousels—is unique to each influencer and their business. Over the long term, many influencers tend to discover an unexpected bonus: Their followers, gradually rising through the ranks in their own careers, become high-level clients or connections. “If you just educate people, whether it’s college students or moms, most eventually end up in corporations,” says Patel.
Constantly churning out fresh content on LinkedIn has its downsides, beginning with the difficulty of managing constantly shifting algorithms. Matt Bailey (27,200 followers) offers tactics for gaining an online audience: Create engaging content with original research (it performs well), click “like” on your own posts, share them, and have friends share them. “It’s completely unnatural, and every time the algorithm changes, you have to change what you’re doing,” he says. Lately, he has moved away from monitoring algorithmic shifts in favor of simply providing his followers with what they want. “I am absolutely tired of complying with the algorithm,” he says.
Yet those who want to maintain or grow their followings know the tricks of gaming the algorithm, which include posting content two to four times per week, as well as following other high-traffic influencers and engaging with their posts—which eventually provides traction for their own new content. Growth is typically slow, though some try to buy followers—a practice that LinkedIn forbids and punishes with suspensions.
#The (Very Popular) Renegades
Not everyone is on board with this way of influencing. “There are a lot of people calling themselves ‘thought leaders,’” says Ann Handley (478,900 followers), who has run marketing-education programs for over two decades. “To my mind, that’s like calling oneself a ‘good parent.’ Someone else should call you that.” Her litmus test for discerning whether a LinkedIn expert is worth following: Are they actually doing things?
Handley joined the fray in 2010 after she wrote her first book, Content Rules: How to Create Killer Blogs, Podcasts, Videos, Ebooks, Webinars (and More) that Engage Customers and Ignite Your Business (“You’re proud of yourself when you write a book, but the reality is, friend, you’re now in sales”). She had run her company’s Twitter account for years, albeit anonymously, and felt uncomfortable putting herself in the limelight. She quickly discovered that when she appeared on LinkedIn “as a human being speaking in simple and direct terms,” followers felt like they knew her, and seemed to enjoy learning from her. Her advice is heavy on self-presentation suggestions, such as taking advantage of the banner photos and text on social-media platforms, and using a bio to state the value you offer rather than your job title. But many of her posts go against the grain: She fundamentally rejects the idea of using the platform as a broadcast tool, and instead employs it as a means of communicating, frequently, with her followers. “So often I hear, ‘I can’t believe you responded!’” she says. “Why is that unusual?”
Sometimes she doesn’t post for three to four weeks. But when she does publish something new, subscriptions to her email newsletter grow, with ripple effects for her trainings, speaking engagements, and annual conference. Through this strategy, she is the rare influencer to have avoided algorithm fatigue, simply because she was never following algorithmic best practices in the first place.
Ryan, the mega career coach (2,980,492 followers), deploys a similar strategy, posting “literally what I believe in that moment,” she says. Sometimes readers dislike her opinions and unfollow her; she remains unfazed. She is also the rare influencer with an extensive corporate background, having spent most of the ‘90s as SVP in human resources for modem maker U.S. Robotics, where she was struck by how desperate recruiters were for good candidates. She aims to share the expertise she’s gained.
She is often invited onto podcasts to discuss her strategy for snaring 2.9 million followers. “I’m so grossed out. Why would that be the best use of our time?” She has little patience for people obsessed with platforms and tools and tricks. “People tell me that they like my content marketing,” she says. “I say, ‘Sweetie, that’s not content marketing. That’s just content.’”
Image credits: NoSystem Images/E+/Getty Images; John Foxx/Getty Images; Ziga Plahutar/Getty Images; Peter Snow/Getty Images; Crispin la valiente/Getty Images



