Go West, Young Influencer

Horace Greeley has joined LinkedIn.

This was a mistake. Not for Greeley, but for everyone else.

Within twelve minutes, he has updated his headline:

Founder | Editor | Thought Leader | Nation Builder | Westward-Mobility Advocate

He has 4,700 followers, eleven posts, and has somehow already been designated a Top Voice.

Horace Greeley has finally found a newspaper where everyone is the editor.

Greeley loves LinkedIn immediately. People announce jobs, promotions, awards, conference attendance, and the fact that they've recently been thinking about leadership.

He is astonished.

“In my day, one required a newspaper to tell thousands of strangers one's opinions.”

We explain that anyone can now publish anything, instantly, for free.

Greeley stares into the middle distance.

He founded the New-York Tribune in 1841 and spent decades building one of America's most influential newspapers. Apparently, he could have saved himself considerable trouble by waiting 160 years and creating an account.

His first post is simple:

Hard work remains the surest path to advancement.

It receives 8,000 likes. Someone comments, “Agree?”

Greeley does.

He soon discovers that every LinkedIn post must contain a lesson. A man misses a flight and shares five things it taught him about leadership. A woman spills coffee and reflects on resilience. Someone's toddler throws cereal across the kitchen, inspiring three lessons about disruptive innovation.

Greeley is fascinated.

This is journalism without the burden of news.

When someone asks Greeley for career advice, he knows exactly what to say.

“Go West, young man.”

The post explodes.

GO WEST, YOUNG PROFESSIONAL: WHY GEOGRAPHIC MOBILITY IS THE ULTIMATE CAREER HACK

There is one small historical complication. Although Greeley popularized the advice, the precise origins of the famous phrase remain disputed, with the wording often attributed to John B. L. Soule.

LinkedIn does not care. Someone has already turned it into a six-slide carousel:

SLIDE 1: FEELING STUCK?
SLIDE 2: YOUR COMFORT ZONE IS YOUR ENEMY
SLIDE 3: GO WEST
SLIDE 4: LAND
SLIDE 5: OPPORTUNITY
SLIDE 6: FOLLOW FOR MORE CAREER ADVICE

Greeley has become unbearable.

Then someone tells him that successful posts should begin with vulnerability. He decides to share his personal journey.

Twenty years ago, I was rejected. I had little money. People doubted me.

Excellent start.

So I founded a newspaper, became one of the most influential editors in America, helped create the Republican Party, fought with Abraham Lincoln, and ran for president.

Perhaps a little much.

LinkedIn loves it.

The comments pour in: “Powerful.” “Needed this today.” “Thanks for sharing your journey.”

Someone simply writes “This. 👏”

Greeley doesn't understand what “This” means.

Neither do we.

Greeley eventually discovers the little green OPEN TO WORK banner.

“What does it signify?”

We explain that it publicly announces you're looking for employment. He finds the idea rather humiliating.

We remind him that in 1872 he publicly asked the entire country to make him president.

Fair point.

He activates the banner and updates his desired positions:

Editor | President | Reformer | National Conscience

The algorithm cannot find a match.

He has better luck with networking. Within minutes, someone sends a friendly message praising his impressive background and asking to connect.

Greeley accepts, delighted to have made a new acquaintance.

The next message arrives immediately:

We help media leaders 10X audience growth using AI-powered content solutions. Do you have 15 minutes this week?

Greeley is furious.

“You approached me under false pretenses! This man has no interest in friendship. He wishes to sell me something!”

Horace Greeley has discovered nineteenth-century patent medicine advertising with emojis.

He respects the hustle.

Then Greeley encounters his first inspirational CEO.

A chief executive has posted a photograph of himself sitting beside an employee in a warehouse.

Yesterday I learned one of our associates was struggling. Instead of seeing an employee, I saw a human being.

Greeley stops reading.

“What had he regarded him as previously?”

We encourage him to continue.

Apparently, the CEO bought the employee lunch. There is a photograph of the sandwich. The post has 62,000 likes.

“You require public applause for feeding a worker?”

Apparently.

This is where things go wrong.

Greeley was no socialist, but he spent much of his career wrestling with questions of labor, economic independence, cooperative enterprise, and industrial capitalism. He believed ordinary working people deserved greater opportunities for economic independence.

Naturally, he has questions for Inspirational CEO.

What are the workers paid? How long are their hours? Can they support their families? Do they enjoy any meaningful share of the prosperity they create?

The CEO does not respond.

Someone from HR likes Greeley's comment, then quietly removes the like.

Greeley publishes a 2,300-word follow-up on the relationship between capital and labor. Engagement skyrockets.

He has accidentally become a labor influencer.

Now brands want him.

A productivity software company offers $5,000 for a sponsored post. Greeley is scandalized, although he does ask what he would have to say.

“That their platform transformed your workflow,” we explain.

“Did it?”

No.

He refuses. They offer $8,000. He refuses again.

At $12,000, he pauses.

Horace.

“I am merely considering the ethics.”

Horace.

“The Tribune had expenses.”

We remind him that this is how the problem begins. He reluctantly declines, though he asks whether the offer might remain open.

Meanwhile, LinkedIn has begun asking him increasingly personal questions, including the dreaded:

Where do you see yourself in five years?

This brings back unpleasant memories.

In 1872, Greeley ran for president as the Liberal Republican candidate, with Democratic support, against Ulysses S. Grant.

It went badly. Grant crushed him.

After an exhausting campaign and the death of his wife, Greeley's health collapsed. He died before the Electoral College cast its votes.

This is not the kind of career setback LinkedIn usually discusses.

He considers writing about it anyway.

I lost the presidency. Here's what it taught me about failure.

He stares at the draft for a moment, then deletes it.

For once, an experience does not need to become content.

By the end of the week, Greeley has 300,000 followers.

He posts about politics, publishing, career advancement, economic reform, and occasionally the evils of slavery. He is once again one of America's most prolific public commentators.

But the algorithm has developed opinions of its own.

Posts about personal growth receive 37% more engagement.

Greeley ignores the advice and publishes a thoughtful discussion of Reconstruction.

Almost nobody reads it.

He writes about economic inequality. Even worse.

Then he posts:

Ten Uncomfortable Truths About Successful People.

Two million views.

Greeley understands immediately.

The world's greatest publishing machine does not necessarily reward the most important idea. It rewards the idea people are most likely to click.

Having spent his entire career in newspapers, Greeley recognizes the problem. The technology has changed considerably. The incentives, rather less so.

He considers writing a lengthy editorial about it.

LinkedIn suggests making it a carousel.

Eventually, Greeley concedes that LinkedIn isn't entirely terrible.

It allows ordinary people to find jobs, build businesses, meet collaborators, publish ideas, and ask strangers for help. For a man who devoted much of his career to expanding opportunity, that is genuinely remarkable.

But he also notices something troubling.

Everyone seems to be treating life as a résumé continuously performed for an invisible audience.

Every failure becomes content. Every kindness becomes leadership. Every vacation becomes a reflection on burnout. Every child becomes a management consultant.

Even a sandwich can teach resilience.

Greeley decides he has had enough and closes the app. He walks outside, breathes the fresh air, and spends thirty glorious seconds experiencing something without considering whether to post about it.

Then his phone buzzes.

Your post received 10,000 impressions.

He opens LinkedIn.

Someone has quoted him again:

“Go West, young man.” — Horace Greeley

He sighs and leaves a comment:

The attribution is more complicated than that.

Nobody notices.

His original post about waking up early has now reached four million views.

Horace Greeley looks toward the western horizon.

Maybe he should take his own advice.

There might still be somewhere in America without thought leadership.