An unsolicited LinkedIn pitch from an unnamed AI startup quickly unraveled into a tangle of evasions, contradictions, and recruitment red flags.

LinkedIn is crowded with people displaying the platform’s green “Open to Work” banner. They are looking for real jobs and offering employers a wide range of experience. That openness also makes them targets for supposed recruiters promoting opportunities that may not exist.

I do not use the “Open to Work” banner on my profile, but I regularly publish articles about artificial intelligence, intelligent infrastructure, and related technologies. That was apparently enough to draw the attention of a man who contacted me about an AI position for which, he said, I would be a good fit.

The man described himself as a recruiting assistant and asked several questions about my background. He then sent a generic job description: “The Senior Advisory position is intended for experienced professionals with substantial practical expertise within their industries. Importantly, this role does not require artificial intelligence or technical industry experience.”

The company, he explained, wanted senior professionals whose industry experience it could leverage. The advertised consulting rate ranged from $160 to $800 an hour—serious money, and precisely the sort of figure likely to get an experienced executive’s attention. But one basic detail was missing: the company’s name. I was told only that it was an Austin, Texas-based startup.

The assistant expressed considerable interest and said the company was seeking candidates for high-level positions and consulting roles. But if I wanted to continue, he told me, “You need to be on Signal in order to talk with my boss.”
I moved the conversation to Signal. The first question I received was whether I was really James Carlini.

After answering one or two questions, I asked to switch to a voice call. The person on the other end—supposedly a woman—said she had other matters to attend to because she was not only a director of the startup but also the CEO of a clothing factory. That was the first major red flag. What was a clothing-factory executive doing interviewing senior advisers for an AI startup?

If she really was a CEO, I reasoned, she should have understood that senior executives generally do not want to conduct a lengthy interview by text. A voice conversation would have made the exchange faster, clearer, and far more efficient.
I became increasingly skeptical and impatient. So I asked what seemed like the most basic question in any recruitment process: What company do you represent?

The person—or automated system—on the other end replied: “Alright, it sounds like you’ve applied to several companies at the same time. We are an AI start-up, and my temporary recruiting assistant mentioned that you are interested in a senior-level consulting position in our company. Am I right?”

I answered: “I would like to know more about the company and what you are looking for. Your company request is looking for consultants. I am one across several industries.”

She still had not provided the company’s name. That omission was even more conspicuous because we had supposedly moved to a secure messaging platform for a serious professional discussion.

She responded: “Of course, I will share more information about our company when we discuss this potential opportunity. First, we need to agree upon a time to talk about it.”

I again proposed a voice call and asked whether we could speak immediately. When she declined, I put the question directly: “Are you a bot or are you real?”

Her next message repeated my request for a voice call before offering another explanation: “No, in addition to being a board member, I am also a CEO of a clothing factory, so I have other things to attend to. Therefore, we need to agree on a time to discuss this opportunity further. Of course, since this is our first communication, we will use written form for reference for both parties. After I discuss this potential opportunity with you, I will submit your profile to the HR team for further review and process evaluation. I hope you can understand.”

She then repeated my question about whether she was a bot and replied: “I think what you said is quite rude. If I were to have the robot communicate with you, it would be disrespectful to you and also be irresponsible regarding this senior consultant position at our company, so I won’t do that.”

That peculiar phrase—“if I were to have the robot communicate with you”—only deepened my suspicions. If a real executive wanted to dispel the concern, the simplest answer would have been to pick up the phone. Instead, the exchange grew stranger while the company’s identity remained concealed.

I replied: “What do you need to know? You have my LinkedIn profile. Sorry, but I am cynical, and real executives don’t waste time like this. I sent you several articles. I was a practice area director for a Big Four firm. We did not go through these games.”

She repeated part of an earlier message, then wrote: “From this sentence I can see that you have applied to many companies at the same time. So first, I need to let you know that there are many scammers online who pretend to be job applicants. In the end, they just want us to give them gift cards or try to sell us some products. So I need to tell you that if you are like that, I won’t do that and I won’t lend money to anyone. Therefore, I need to confirm: Are you really here to apply for a job?”

The logic was backward. Nothing I had said suggested that I had applied to multiple companies; in fact, I had not applied to this one at all. Its representative had approached me. The sudden talk of gift cards and applicants seeking loans sounded less like an executive interview than a script that had wandered into the wrong scenario.

I responded: “Wait. You are totally wrong. I have not applied to many companies. Where did you get that misinformation? Look, either you are looking for talent or you’re wasting my time. Switch to a voice call.”

Instead of answering, she repeated another portion of my text and explained that her suspicion arose because I had asked what company she represented.

“Your assistant did not tell me who you are,” I replied. “It is a valid question.”

She answered: “Of course, if a person is not applying to multiple companies at the same time, how could they possibly not know what job they are applying for or what kind of company it is?”

But again, I had not applied. I had been recruited by an unnamed company. I wrote: “Your logic is wrong. Anonymous companies need to identify themselves, or are you on a fishing trip for information?”

Only then did she offer a first name: “My name is Emily, and I am a board member of this company. Since the company is currently in a startup phase, sometimes I conduct interviews for candidates for senior adviser positions myself.”

Still no company name. I replied that I knew only that the supposed startup was in Austin and once more asked her to move the conversation to a voice call.

She ended the exchange: “I think you are a very rude person when you speak. So I’ve decided to give up on this potential opportunity. You should apply to other companies instead.”

I told her that refusing to identify the company or speak by phone was itself discourteous—and that the entire operation appeared phony.

Perhaps a human being was sending the messages. Perhaps an automated system was generating them, or a person was relying heavily on one. The exchange alone cannot prove which explanation is correct. It can, however, establish that the recruitment pitch failed several elementary tests of credibility. The supposed employer would not identify itself, the recruiter misrepresented how contact had begun, the answers were repetitive and illogical, and every request for a brief voice conversation was deflected.

Generative AI can now produce convincing text, and voice-capable systems are increasingly common, so a refusal to call is not definitive proof of a bot. Nor does moving a conversation to an encrypted platform automatically establish fraud. But taken together with an unnamed company, an unsolicited approach, unusually high compensation, a generic job description, and evasive answers, these details form a pattern job seekers should not ignore.

The most important question in any recruitment conversation is also one of the simplest: Who, exactly, is offering the job? A legitimate recruiter should be able to provide a verifiable company name, a corporate email address, a specific position, and a clear hiring process. Candidates should independently confirm the recruiter’s identity and the vacancy through the company’s official website or switchboard before sharing sensitive information.

Be especially cautious when a stranger quickly pushes the conversation off LinkedIn, refuses ordinary verification, or requests financial details, identification documents, account credentials, payments, gift cards, or equipment purchases. A lucrative hourly rate can make an opaque opportunity feel urgent. That is precisely when skepticism matters most.

Call the recruiter’s bluff early. Ask direct questions, verify the answers independently, and end the conversation if the supposed employer will not establish who it is. A fake opening can cost more than money: it can expose personal information and consume hours that no one can recover.