LinkedIn’s Most Controversial Feature
How a simple green badge boosted visibility—but came with a hidden cost to your reputation.
In 2020, LinkedIn launched one of its most talked-about features: the "Open to Work" badge.
A simple green ring around a user’s profile photo.
A tiny visual signal with massive consequences.
It was supposed to help job seekers.
Instead, it split the professional world in half. Some users loved it. Others avoided it like the plague.
Recruiters saw more applicants.
Job seekers feared looking desperate.
So what happened here?
Let’s unpack the product thinking behind Open to Work—what LinkedIn got right, what it missed, and what PMs can learn from a badge that tried to make people more visible but ended up making them feel vulnerable.
The World in 2020: Millions Were Suddenly Jobless
COVID-19 hit. Layoffs came fast.
In April 2020 alone, over 20 million people lost their jobs in the US. Globally, uncertainty gripped the economy. Professionals turned to LinkedIn, not just to scroll, but to find work.
LinkedIn had a decision to make: how do you help millions of people get hired faster?
The most obvious path: increase visibility.
For years, users could quietly signal they were job hunting. But this was hidden in their profile settings and visible only to recruiters.
In June 2020, LinkedIn launched a public version of this feature. If you opted in, your profile photo would get a green ring with the text: "Open to Work."
Everyone could now see that you were job searching—your network, your followers, recruiters, even your current employer.
The Feature: Simple Mechanism, Big Impact
At its core, Open to Work was just a toggle.
Turn it on, and you got the green badge.
Turn it off, and it disappeared.
You could also choose whether only recruiters or the entire LinkedIn community could see it.
The UI was minimal. No onboarding flow. No tooltips. Just the badge.
But that tiny circle changed the social dynamics of job hunting.
Suddenly, being a job seeker was no longer private. It was public.
And that’s where the friction started.
The Job Market: Where Visibility Can Look Like Desperation
At first, it seemed great. Users with the badge reported more messages from recruiters. Some got hired faster. LinkedIn shared data that users with the badge were, on average, 40% more likely to get messages from hiring managers.
But something else started to bubble up.
People began to post things like:
This was the tension:
More visibility meant more opportunities.
But more visibility also meant more social risk.
And in a professional network, where perception is everything, social risk matters.
Product Thinking: What Problem Was LinkedIn Solving?
Core Job: Help users get hired faster.
Assumption: More visibility = more recruiter outreach.
Tradeoff: Public signaling might carry a negative perception.
On paper, it makes sense:
Recruiters are more likely to reach out if they know you're open.
Users want more interviews.
The green badge is a shortcut.
But here’s where it gets tricky:
LinkedIn underestimated the social stigma of looking unemployed.
Even if someone was job hunting, they didn’t want to look needy. They wanted to look in-demand.
And the badge flipped that script.
It said: "I need a job," not "I’m awesome, come hire me."
That’s a big psychological difference.
And that’s where the feature design clashed with user emotion.
What Happened Next: A Quiet Pivot
LinkedIn didn’t remove the badge. But they adjusted their messaging.
They began emphasizing the "recruiters only" option.
They also added more control over who could see it.
Recruiters continued to see it as useful. But many users chose the private option.
Even today, the badge still exists—but most users don’t use it unless they really need to.
The badge didn’t fail. But it didn’t become the norm either.
It became a symbol of a deeper problem: job searching is still stigmatized.
Lessons for PMs: What This Teaches Us
Here are three takeaways:
1. Don’t just design what users need—design how they’ll feel using it.
Even if a feature solves a functional problem (like increasing visibility to recruiters), it can backfire if it makes users feel exposed, judged, or insecure.
Emotional design matters.
Before shipping a feature, ask yourself:
“How would users feel wearing this in public?”
If the answer is uncomfortable, rethink the framing.
2. Visibility features must come with control and framing.
Features that affect how others perceive a user—like badges, statuses, or labels—need to feel optional, respectful, and empowering.
LinkedIn offered control ("recruiters-only" vs. public), but it came too late. PMs should launch with control built-in and frame it positively.
Try asking:
“Does this feature make the user look strong, skilled, or in-demand?”
If not, even optional features will be avoided.
3. Social signals can overpower functionality—don’t ignore the narrative.
Your product doesn’t live in a vacuum. It lives in people’s heads, timelines, and group chats.
PMs need to anticipate how others will talk about the feature. What tweets will people write about it? What will your power users say on Slack?
Test not just for UX, but for perception.
Final Thought: Feature Adoption Needs Social Permission
In a perfect world, people wouldn’t judge others for looking for work. But in reality, job searching still feels vulnerable.
LinkedIn built a tool to help users. But the users brought their own social baggage.
So here’s the product lesson:
Even the most well-intentioned feature can backfire if it forgets the social layer.
As PMs, we design for humans. And humans are not always logical.
Sometimes, the smallest signals shout the loudest.
And that’s what the green badge did.
Until next time
—Sid
Brilliant reflection! Few texts articulate as well how a technically solid feature can fail due to subtle behavioral nuances. This case excellently exposes the clash between functional value and social discomfort. This kind of insight is pure gold for product professionals, and not only because it illuminates important challenges, but also because such insights are extremely hard to discern in the early stages of a feature’s development. Congratulations on the thought-provoking analysis