The Cultural Cost of Your Click

We need to have a serious, possibly friendship-ending conversation about that creepy little yellow face with jazz hands around a floating red heart.

Yeah, the “care” reaction.

If you’re on LinkedIn, you’ve probably seen it. If you’re on Facebook, maybe you’ve had it thrown at your deepest, most vulnerable share. And if you’re me? You’ve stared at it, squinted, and thought:

“Why the actual fuck are you patting me on the head through the internet?”

Truthfully, I don’t think these reactions are harmless little taps of digital empathy; I think they’re social sedatives, and cheap sympathy pills that create passivity instead of power. Emotional Advil? Ooh, yeah. That.

And after HUNDREDS of conversations with women business owners and leaders, I can tell you I’m not alone in this. That “aww honey” undertone?

Yeah, it’s not inspiring anyone...it’s infantilizing.

Why Your Emojis Suck at Leadership

Not sorry to burst your bubble, but reactions aren’t about the person posting.
They’re about the person reacting. Social media is one big fucking mirror.

The Like? Safe. Neutral. It says “I saw this and my thumb wasn’t too tired today.”

The Love? Passionate. Bold. Says “Hell yes, I align with this.”

The Laugh? Risky. It might mean “this is hilarious” or “I’m laughing at you, not with you.”

The Angry face? Chef’s kiss. Pure honesty, whether it’s righteous fury or a temper tantrum.

But the Care and Support buttons? They scream pity. They whisper, “You’re not powerful; you’re pitiful. Here, take my digital casserole dish and go cry quietly.”

From an org. psych lens, this is where it gets fun.

Research in emotional labor theory shows that suppressing or faking emotions at work eats away at people’s authenticity and energy. Guess what “care” reactions do? They enable fake empathy. Performative, surface-level acknowledgment that lets people off the fucking hook from actually engaging.

Lazy leadership in emoji form.

The Female Leader Problem

Let’s zoom in.

When men repeatedly use “care” or “support” on posts from women leaders, it doesn’t just feel patronizing—it is patronizing.

Imagine pouring your heart into a vulnerable but badass share about building your business, and your male colleague hits you with the “care” button. What does that communicate? Not strength. Not respect. But sympathy. As if your work is less strategy, more sob story.

Over time, this creates patterns. Patterns are how bias sneaks into public perception.

And this is exactly what I’m studying for my PsyD: how the collective rise of female leaders is being subtly undercut by something as dumb as a fucking emoji.

If you think I’m overreacting, you’ve never been on the receiving end of dozens of “aww honey” clicks that turn your victory lap into a pity parade.

LinkedIn: The HR Office of the Internet

Now, let’s not forget the biggest irony of all: LinkedIn isn’t just watching your content. It’s watching how you react to everyone else’s content.

That’s right.

Every “clap,” every “support,” every “insightful” moment is a public breadcrumb trail for employers, colleagues, and strangers to scroll through and piece together your leadership style just by how you engage.

And here’s where impression management theory comes into play. Leaders are constantly “performing” a role, intentionally or not. Your reactions are part of that performance. You’re not just tapping a little button; you’re broadcasting your values, your biases, and your style of leadership to anyone paying attention.

Instagram: The Savior We Didn’t Deserve

Here’s why I love Instagram’s simplicity: You either heart something or you don’t.

No second-guessing. No online pity hugs. Just:

• Double tap = I’m in.
• No tap = I’m out.

Behavioral clarity with brutal honesty. It’s refreshing as hell.

Compare that to LinkedIn’s buffet of reactions, and suddenly Instagram feels like that one friend who will straight up tell you, “Yeah, those pants make your ass look weird.”

You may not love hearing it, but at least it’s real.

When Sympathy Becomes a Strategy

There’s nothing inherently wrong with expressing sympathy.

If someone’s dog died, by all means, care that shit it up. But when sympathy becomes your default reaction, that says more about your leadership style than you probably want it to.

Yes, another psychology nugget: contingency theory of leadership argues that effective leaders adapt their style to the situation. Meaning, not every post deserves the same bland, sympathetic pat on the head.

Leadership requires discernment and context. The ability to know when to stand the fuck up and clap, when to laugh like an idiot, when to push back against assholes, and when to offer genuine care.

Otherwise, you’re just another passive participant in the pity Olympics.

What Your Emoji Really Says

Let’s decode the subconscious meaning of each platform’s reactions. (This is super fun for me, so strap in.)

Facebook:

• Like: “Fine, I acknowledged you. Can we move on?”
• Love: “I’d marry this post if Zuckerberg allowed it.”
• Care: “Awwww honey, bless your heart.”
• Haha: “You’re either hilarious or I’m mocking you. Good luck guessing.”
• Wow: “My brain just imploded. Or I’m sarcastic. Who knows.”
• Sad: “I feel bad but don’t care enough to comment.”
• Angry: “Finally, some passion. Now we’re talking.”

LinkedIn:

• Like: “Safe choice. HR-approved.”
• Celebrate/Clap: “Fuck yes, go you. You deserve champagne.”
• Love: “I actually give a shit about this.”
• Insightful: “This makes me look smart for noticing.”
• Support: “I have no idea what to say but don’t want to look like an asshole.”
• Funny: “Oh thank god, some humor on this boring-ass platform.”

Instagram:

• Heart: “I like you. Or your dog. Or your latte art.”
• No Heart: “You don’t matter enough for my thumb energy.”

Leadership Through the Lens of Reactions

So, let’s flip the script. Instead of asking, What do my reactions say about other people? ask:

What do my reactions say about me as a leader?

If you’re the person always handing out “support” or “care” reactions, you might think you’re nurturing. But to others, you look like a Hallmark card with wi-fi.

If you’re the person who only “Likes” shit, you’re Switzerland. Neutral. Forgettable. Nobody remembers the 'like' guy.

If you’re clapping, loving, and occasionally challenging with an angry face, you look alive, engaged, and human. That’s leadership. Because leadership isn’t about being nice all the time; it’s about choosing your responses with intention.

Challenge Time

Next time you go to hit that lazy “support” or “care,” pause. Think about what message you’re actually sending.

Do you want to blend into the pity party, or do you want to stand out as someone who fuels growth, strength, and leadership?

Fuck it, be bold. Clap harder. Laugh louder. Get angry when it counts. Stop babying people with emojis that make them feel small. Because reactions are reflections of who the hell you are.

🗯️ Shit to Think About

→ What do your go-to reactions say about your leadership style?

→ If someone scrolled through your digital trail, would they see you as bold, passive, or performative?

→ Are you standing in the ovation… or drowning in the pity party?