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In June, I started seeing a lot more content on LinkedIn that was, for lack of a more elegant word, fire 
Provocative, honest, raw conversations about race in the workplace. So I pitched the story to the @nytimes https://www.nytimes.com/2020/10/08/business/black-linkedin.amp.html?0p19G=0232
Provocative, honest, raw conversations about race in the workplace. So I pitched the story to the @nytimes https://www.nytimes.com/2020/10/08/business/black-linkedin.amp.html?0p19G=0232
With the pandemic keeping us all home, polite professionalism took a backseat to anger, outrage, and weariness. Black professionals took to LinkedIn to talk about it.
I started to report the story, talking to Black professionals, mostly women, about the promise that LinkedIn offered — a chance to be heard, seen, and listened to. As a reporter, I knew I had seized onto something. As a black woman, I felt FULL.
But I noticed people — a lot of people — mentioning that posts they had referencing BLM or racism had vanished from the platform. Authors said that while they could see the posts, their networks couldn’t — a practice known as shadow banning.
People said they were seeing decreased engagement on posts about racism in the workplace. People said they were receiving no explanations for why posts were hidden. People started saying the algorithm was programmed to shut out loud black voices.
I started collecting screenshots. (Black people in the corporate world know, always keep your receipts.)
I didn’t want to write a story about content moderation AT ALL. But LinkedIn wasn’t providing a lot of answers, and I was newly unemployed and newly determined. I had time. There were too many unanswered questions, too much wild speculation.
So I spoke to several people at LinkedIn. In no uncertain terms, they denied that LinkedIn silenced specific hashtags or used their algorithms to derank content about racism.
They pointed out several actions they had taken to amplify Black voices, some of which I included in my article.
They also said they had rolled out starting September 2020 a policy wherein every time a piece of content was hidden or removed, the user would be notified as to why. If someone reported something, they’d be notified about the result. All in a timely manner.
Why if you wanted to “start conversation” a few years back was this just happening now? 
LinkedIn’s “professional community policies” were vague. While I was reporting this story, they updated them to be more specific. It’s an improvement — but still leaves so much room for interpretation.
Which is a problem. Hard convos on LinkedIn will continue. How can people know what not to say so they or their content doesn’t get removed from the platform?
3.5% of LinkedIn’s workforce is black. 1.2% of their tech workforce is black. Who’s there guiding LinkedIn on how to moderate conversations about racism?
LinkedIn is increasingly valuable to people. People need jobs. People want to be secure. People do want to diversify their networks and learn from others.
I myself am a Premium subscriber, full disclosure. (I need to see who looked at my profile, I’m nosy.)
I don’t think anyone wants LinkedIn to look or sound like Twitter or Instagram. But where else on the internet can Black people and other marginalized groups speak truth to corporate power?
This is an evolving story with lots of unanswered questions — some which probably don’t even have an answer, yet — and my story only scratched the surface.
Hate speech, sexual harassment, death threats, etc. are all serious issues LinkedIn and its users need to deal with. But those are less ambiguous. This...this is a sticky situation and probably the only thing I know for sure is that it’s not going away.
Read the story here: https://www.nytimes.com/2020/10/08/business/black-linkedin.amp.html?0p19G=0232
I also want to amplify here @BJStech who wrote about this issue a couple weeks before me. https://www.adexchanger.com/data-driven-thinking/are-black-voices-disappearing-from-linkedin/
