I keep seeing more and more platforms asking me to “verify my account”; LinkedIn, Facebook, Instagram and countless other apps all seem increasingly keen for me to prove that I really am who I say I am. On the face of it, I can’t honestly say I have a problem with that because if verifying my identity helps reduce fake accounts, scammers, impersonators and armies of bots that contribute absolutely nothing useful to the online world, then it feels like a sensible step for everyone involved. It protects users, it protects the platform and, hopefully, it makes online interactions just that little bit more genuine.
What I find myself wondering, though, is whether we’ve quietly started attaching a meaning to verification that simply isn’t there. Somewhere along the way, the little badge or blue tick seems to have become shorthand for credibility, expertise and trustworthiness, even though, if you stop and think about it for a moment, it was never really designed to do any of those things. It tells me that a platform has some confidence that the person behind the account is genuinely John Smith, but it tells me almost nothing about whether that John Smith actually possesses the experience, qualifications or achievements that his profile proudly displays or whether this person has possession of a passport that does not belong to them and decided to create themselves a whole new personna…
LinkedIn is probably the best example because it isn’t just another social platform where people share holiday photos or videos of their dog chasing their tail; it’s supposed to be a professional network where careers are built, business relationships begin and expertise is showcased. If I come across John Smith with a verified profile, I have a degree of certainty that he is a “the” John Smith whose passport or driving licence has been checked. What I don’t know is whether he is the John Smith who invented a particular technology, whether he genuinely spent a decade working at Coutts, whether the PhD after his name was actually awarded by the university he claims or whether some of the impressive job titles on his profile are, shall we say, slightly more imaginative than factual.
That’s where I think we start confusing identity with credibility. They are related, of course, but they are by no means the same thing. Verifying who somebody is should probably be viewed as the starting line rather than the finishing line, because proving your name has never automatically proved your competence, your honesty or your expertise. Those things have always required evidence, reputation, references and, perhaps most importantly, the ability to consistently demonstrate that you actually know what you’re talking about.
I don’t think the platforms are trying to deceive us, in fact, I think their motivations are largely commercial and perfectly understandable. Fake accounts are expensive. They damage trust, create endless moderation headaches, encourage fraud and make advertisers question whether they’re paying to reach real people or a collection of automated scripts. If I were running a platform with hundreds of millions of users, I’d probably want to know who was behind every account as well. It makes the place safer, reduces abuse and gives law enforcement at least a fighting chance when things go badly wrong.
Where I think we’ve perhaps wandered off course is in perhaps believing that identity verification somehow validates everything else on a profile because it doesn’t, and I doubt it was ever intended to. A verified badge doesn’t tell me that somebody genuinely held the position of Chief Executive, only that they are the person who created the profile saying they were. It doesn’t tell me whether they really wrote the bestselling book they keep mentioning, whether they genuinely advised governments, whether they actually led a team of five hundred people or whether they just made the tea while everyone else was leading the project.
The badge isn’t checking the story; it’s checking the storyteller. I think this is quite an important distinction because we’re living in an age where personal brands have become businesses in their own right. We see profiles full of grand job titles, impressive qualifications, glossy photographs, inspirational quotes and endorsements from people we’ve never heard of, and it’s remarkably easy to assume that someone else has already done the homework for us. In reality, much of what we read online still relies on the oldest form of verification there is, which is taking somebody at their word until there’s evidence to suggest otherwise.
I sometimes wonder whether professional platforms are missing an opportunity. If LinkedIn really wants to become the trusted home of professional identity, shouldn’t it eventually become much easier to verify the things that actually matter professionally? Verifying employment directly with employers, confirming academic qualifications with universities, validating professional memberships with recognised bodies and perhaps even confirming patents, publications or industry awards would all add genuine value. That isn’t about creating an elite club or making life difficult for people starting their careers; it’s about giving users confidence that claims can be backed up by evidence rather than simply typed into a profile and left unchallenged.
Of course, there are practical problems with that because of GDPR, the fact that companies close, universities merge, records disappear and careers don’t always fit neatly into a database. Then there are freelancers, consultants and entrepreneurs whose achievements don’t sit inside traditional employment records. None of this is as straightforward as checking that the photograph on a passport resembles the person holding it, which is probably why most platforms stop at that identity. It is simpler, cheaper and far less complex/controversial.
There is another side to all this that doesn’t receive nearly enough attention, and that’s privacy. Every time we verify ourselves, we hand over another piece of personal information: passports, driving licences, facial recognition scans, phone numbers and other forms of identification all end up sitting somewhere on somebody’s systems. I’m not suggesting for one moment that platforms are rubbing their hands together plotting world domination, but history has shown often enough that data breaches happen, systems are compromised and information has a habit of ending up in places nobody originally intended. Verification undoubtedly brings benefits, but it also comes with responsibilities for the companies collecting that information and for us as users to understand what we’re agreeing to.
I also think verification creates an interesting psychological effect. Once we see that little tick, our brains seem to relax a bit unless you’re like me and have mentally blocked out checking for it. We instinctively assume the difficult questions have already been asked, rather like seeing someone in a high-visibility jacket and automatically believing they must be in charge. Sometimes they are, but sometimes they’re just the bloke who arrived first and found a fluorescent vest (or a serial killer posing as a person of trust). Online, that tiny badge can have exactly the same effect because it encourages us to lower our guard just enough to stop asking perfectly sensible questions.
Perhaps that’s the point I’ve been circling around all along. Verification is useful, and I suspect we’ll see much more of it over the next few years as governments, regulators and platforms hopefully continue trying to tackle fraud, scams and online abuse. I welcome that because the internet could certainly do with fewer fake accounts and fewer people hiding behind anonymous profiles while making life miserable for everyone else.
What I don’t welcome is the idea that verification should become a substitute for critical thinking. Whether I’m reading a LinkedIn profile, watching somebody on YouTube or listening to the latest self-appointed expert on social media, I still want to know where their evidence is, whether their claims stand up to scrutiny and whether independent sources support what they’re saying. A blue tick doesn’t answer those questions any more than a smart suit guarantees intelligence or a stethoscope guarantees competence.
Maybe we’ve simply allowed ourselves to become a little too impressed by symbols. We like badges, certificates, logos and things that look official because they save us time and make decisions feel easier. The trouble is that trust has always been a little more complicated than that: it has to be earned, tested and, occasionally, challenged. A platform can confirm that someone is who they say they are, but only time, evidence and integrity can tell us whether they’re worth listening to.
And perhaps that’s the lesson. By all means verify my identity if it helps keep the internet a little cleaner and a little safer, but don’t ask me to confuse that with credibility. One proves I exist, the other still has to be earned if I agree to accept that connect request unless you come recommended from someone I trust.
FAQs
Does a verified badge mean someone’s qualifications have been checked?
No. Verification confirms a presumed identity or account ownership, not the accuracy of qualifications or career claims.
Note: If you lose your passport, someone can create a verified account using your passport…
Why do platforms encourage verification?
To reduce fake accounts, bots, impersonation and fraud, while improving trust and security across the platform.
Does LinkedIn verify employment history?
Some employment information can be verified through employers or trusted partners, but I am not aware that LI does this; a verified identity does not automatically validate any job listed on a profile.
Should I verify my account?
This is very much an individual decision; it can help protect against impersonation and increase confidence that you are the genuine account holder. Just understand what information you are sharing and what the verification actually represents. However, you need to bear in mind that handing over personal ID details to a third party needs thought: what do they do with that verification, do they store it somewhere (potential for your ID to be stolen), do they sell that data on?
Can someone have a verified account and still exaggerate?
Yes. Identity verification confirms who is operating the account, not whether every claim they make is true.
References
- UK Information Commissioner’s Office (ICO) – Identity verification and personal data
- NIST Digital Identity Guidelines
