A shift in the Language of Technology

A little late, but still: happy new year 2026!. The turn of the year is often the moment to look back and notice patterns. Not the loud announcements, but the things that quietly settled in. Developments that arrived without fanfare and at some point were simply there. One of those stood out to me over the past year.

In certain parts of our industry, where technology, consulting and AI intersect, the tone has shifted noticeably. LinkedIn, for a long time primarily a professional network, has turned into a kind of permanent stage for some of these circles. Not a place for operational experience or technical debate, but for something that feels imported from elsewhere: personal narratives, polished statements, carefully produced micro-stories about technology, transformation and perspective.

None of this is unusual for social media. What is unusual is how naturally these formats now appear in professional contexts. The transition was quiet. There was no debate about whether this style was appropriate. No visible friction. It simply became part of everyday professional communication, almost as if the boundary had never existed.

For me, 2025 was the year this phenomenon became impossible to ignore.

Within this environment, a new role has become visible: the tech influencer. Someone who speaks about the industry without necessarily being part of its operational reality. Not an architect, not a programme lead, not someone accountable for integration or delivery. Rather someone who frames, evaluates and narrates technology from a position that often seems surprisingly detached from actual responsibility.

This role was not invented, defined or formally introduced. It simply emerged. Perhaps because there was space for it. Perhaps because no one actively protected that space. And perhaps because the industry itself was not quite sure what it expected there. What is striking is not that the role exists, but how easily it has been accepted. It was not challenged or contextualised. It was quietly absorbed.

The style is equally noticeable. Thoughts are compressed rather than unfolded. Explanations are sharpened rather than developed. Aesthetics replace context, personal posture replaces argument. It is a mode of communication shaped in environments where mistakes carry little consequence and attention is the primary currency. Now it appears in settings where decisions have real and lasting impact, yet the contradiction seems to trouble very few.

Another curious aspect is the intended audience. Many influencers explain their origin story by saying they realised how difficult technology is to understand for non-experts and decided to translate it. In principle, that is a valuable ambition. Making technology accessible would have real societal benefit. In practice, however, the content rarely reaches non-experts, students or technology-distant audiences. It is directed at professionals, people who operate systems, lead programmes and design architectures.

A strange shift occurs. Those who would genuinely benefit from simplification rarely see it. Those who would need experience receive packaging. There is no malice in this. No cynicism. Just a market. And where there is a market, a business model tends to follow. Perhaps that alone explains more than any deeper theory.

Before criticising this too quickly, one thing should be said openly. I do not exclude myself from it. I also write, publish and comment. One could argue that I am doing the same, seeking attention for myself or for the context I work in. That would not be entirely wrong. Then again, it may also be that I am simply not very good at it. Not entertaining enough. Or not successful enough to turn it into a business model. For me, writing is certainly not a scalable product or a revenue stream, and perhaps that in itself is the clearest indication that something different is going on.

What interests me is less reach than friction. I am curious about what people in similar roles are dealing with, what clients are asking, how competitors position themselves, and where genuine expertise becomes visible or fades away. This is not a moral project and not an attempt to establish an alternative. It is more an effort to understand an industry that is moving quickly and reflecting surprisingly little on itself.

Perhaps the only real difference is that I use a system that I also find unsettling. I write about mechanisms that I apply without fully liking them. That does not make me better. But it may make the observation more honest. And perhaps that is why the influencer model unsettles me. It is professionally produced, aesthetically flawless and technically polished, yet often remarkably thin in substance. People speak about things they have never built, owned or delivered, and still it resonates.

What occupied me most in 2025 was not whether this is good or bad, but why it works so smoothly. Why organisations adopt this style without explaining it. Why programmes suddenly communicate like creator channels. Why format begins to replace function without anyone asking whether it fits the substance. Perhaps because it feels harmless. Perhaps because it looks modern. Perhaps because it is easier to adopt an aesthetic than to develop a language that can carry complexity.

In the end, there is no verdict, only an observation. We do not yet know whether this represents a new form of professionalism or a gradual flattening. Whether it is a phase or a lasting cultural shift. Whether it helps the industry move forward or merely accompanies it. It may simply be an inevitable side effect of a working world increasingly shaped by social-media logic.

What remains is this image: a highly complex industry increasingly speaking in a language that does not emerge from its own practice, but is borrowed from a world of aesthetic simplification. That is neither inherently good nor bad. But it is noticeable. And perhaps, at the start of a new year, noticing it is enough.