Listeners sent in their profiles and asked to be roasted, kindly. What the reviews keep landing on is not writing — it is the fields nobody thinks of as fields. The banner. The pronunciation. The one line under your name that most people overload and nobody reads twice.
Four fields nobody filled. All four of them yours.
Not a neutral absence
Each one is a section of the episode with input fields attached. Start anywhere — they do not depend on each other, and nothing you type leaves the browser.
Every one of them had something the others should copy, and every one had a field sitting empty or overloaded. Described by role rather than by name — the pattern is the part you can use.
A headline running to six or seven separate ideas. A banner built from photographs of her collecting accolades, with three keywords laid across it. A warm, professional photo.
Three items in the headline — her university, co-founder at her company, and a named award with a year. The About section contains one thing: an email address. Below it, volunteering, publications and honors are all filled in.
A recorded name pronunciation. A photo smiling straight down the lens. A two-item headline pairing a certification with the people she serves. An About section eight paragraphs long.
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Cherie Brooke Luo spent five years on LinkedIn’s Profile team and teaches this at Stanford GSB. Part two is the one where listeners send in their own profiles and ask to be roasted, kindly — and then the two posts from r/LinkedInLunatics that show what not to do.
Open on YouTubeThey spend half an hour telling three strangers what to fix, and give away plenty about their own profiles doing it. Answer first — the fact arrives afterwards.
Question 1 of 6
Both hosts admit to breaking two of the profile-photo best practices on purpose. Which two?