It began with an ordinary LinkedIn interaction: someone tagged Linda Geddes in a post praising their contribution to a New York Post article on "chronoworking," a subject closely related to her expertise in circadian rhythms. Geddes, the author of a book on the body’s biological clocks, had never met the person and had not conducted any interview for that story.
Curiosity turned to alarm when she followed the link and saw her own byline displayed above the piece. The name she has built a career on appeared to endorse reporting she had no hand in producing. What started as a single misattribution quickly unfurled into a series of odd and unexplained incidents that suggested deliberate impersonation rather than a simple crediting mistake.
Geddes set out to investigate, tracing digital breadcrumbs across social media and news sites. Her digging exposed a pattern of false identities and misused names—people presenting themselves as contributors or experts, and in at least one case adopting a journalist’s byline. The account she encountered on LinkedIn and the New York Post attribution were the entry points to a broader and more opaque problem.
The episode underscores growing vulnerabilities for writers and the value audiences place on bylines as a marker of trust and accountability. Platforms that connect reporters, sources and readers can also be exploited to manufacture credibility. Geddes’ experience is a reminder that misattribution and impersonation are not merely personal indignities but potential threats to the integrity of public information.
As the investigation continued, the case raised questions about how publishers and professional networks detect and correct fraudulent bylines, and about what steps journalists should take to protect their professional identities online. For now, what began with a tagged LinkedIn post has become a cautionary tale about the ease with which an author’s name can be borrowed and the effort required to reclaim it.