LinkedIn is no longer just a resume bank. The platform’s usage has changed dramatically over the last decade, and for almost anyone working in higher education — professors, adjunct staff, and marcomm and student affairs professionals — it has become one of the industry’s most visible public spaces.
This shift is transforming the public presentation of academia. As faculty lean into the rise of personal branding and the creator economy, conversations that once remained inside department meetings now take place in public view. Research in progress is shared openly. Institutional priorities are discussed beyond leadership circles. Enrollment pressures and campus culture are addressed in full view. Much of this exchange occurs on LinkedIn.
Not Your Old LinkedIn
Founded in 2003, LinkedIn began as a job-networking tool designed to digitize hiring. By the mid-2010s, it had evolved into a recruitment marketplace. Today, it is a place of discourse reminiscent of the role Twitter once played for journalists and academics, moving professional discourse from private meetings into public threads.
This shift carries clear implications for colleges and universities. As competition intensifies, reputation extends beyond traditional channels. Ideas no longer circulate only through journals or conference panels. They surface in feeds, where perception forms long before formal engagement.
Academic authority is no longer conveyed solely through title or affiliation, but through how expertise is shared in public view.
In a recent Times Higher Education article, Larisa Yarovaya, professor of finance at the University of Southampton, examined how LinkedIn has become a central stage for academic visibility. Yarovaya noted that scholars are expected to communicate publicly, using the platform to share research, commentary, and institutional context in ways that were once confined to conferences or closed professional circles.
Yarovaya also highlighted the tension this creates. While public platforms allow academics to demonstrate expertise and reach wider audiences, they introduce new pressures around constant presence and visibility. For institutions, this reflects a broader shift in how credibility is formed. Academic authority is no longer conveyed solely through title or affiliation, but through how expertise is shared in public view.
The Gen Z Effect
According to Hootsuite’s LinkedIn demographics report, 26.2 percent of users fall between the ages of 13 and 28, including current students, prospective applicants, and early-career alumni.
For Gen Z, LinkedIn functions as more than a future job-search tool. It operates as a research engine where students browse institutional pages and gather insight into academic culture.
Students increasingly treat LinkedIn as a due-diligence layer, paying attention to who teaches, what instructors discuss, and whether alumni stories feel credible.
“When I share career insights or even something lighthearted like a day in the life, it resonates with students because it feels relatable. Gen Z wants to experience faculty, and for them, this begins before enrollment,” said Nikki Pebbles-Perretti, learning and development specialist at City College of New York.
Joe Etchells, U.K.-based business director at Anything Is Possible, a consultancy working with universities on admission strategy and student engagement, has observed a similar pattern. Students increasingly treat LinkedIn as a due-diligence layer, paying attention to who teaches, what instructors discuss, and whether alumni stories feel credible.
What often goes unnoticed is that these dynamics are not the same. College leaders are rarely posting with prospective students as their primary audience. Most use the networking site to strengthen professional profiles, engage peers, and reinforce standing within the field. Yet that same activity remains visible to applicants and families, who treat it as part of their vetting process. Regardless of intent, a university’s digital footprint will carry weight in 2026.
Leadership looks different now
Personal branding was once associated primarily with executives and entrepreneurs. It now extends across colleges. Departments are expected to maintain visible profiles that function as an extension of institutional identity. Credibility remains a significant factor in student admission decisions, and in 2026 an active LinkedIn presence signals transparency rather than distraction.
Scott Galloway, the NYU professor, podcaster and author who is also one of LinkedIn’s most followed education commentators, regularly uses his platform to challenge prevailing assumptions about higher education. In a widely viewedvideo on why college remains valuable, Galloway argued that institutions must explain their relevance amid skepticism around cost, student debt, and outcomes. His commentary on elite universities, alternative pathways, and student loans illustrates how digital visibility can shape public perception surrounding higher ed.
This dynamic extends beyond individual figures. When higher education voices remain absent from public conversation, others step in to define the narrative.
Marjorie Hass, president of the Council of Independent Colleges, models a more dialogic approach. In an episode of Volt’s Campus Docket podcast last year, she advocated forlistening as much as speaking, framing digital platforms as spaces for exchange rather than broadcast.
Other channels reinforce this shift. TikTok has reshaped how students choose schools. Videos of residence halls, campus life, and student culture influence decisions more than brochures ever did. Authentic connections matter. Institutions that fail to show up risk losing control of their story.
Today, as institutional reputations and academic identities are shaped across digital spaces where prospective students and competitors observe simultaneously, the faculty lounge has not disappeared. It exists online.
