How vanity awards feed the ego economy

Imagine receiving the message: “Congratulations! You’ve been selected as the Visionary Leader of the Decade.” Chances are, you’ll jump out of your seat. Blink three times in disbelief. Your pride kicks in. It feels good. Really good. Last week, I received the same notice of award from someone on LinkedIn.

My reaction? Nothing. Not even a raised eyebrow. I don’t just practice critical thinking – I run it on autopilot. And this latest message? It smelled fishier than a dried squid on a sidewalk market during summer. Funny. It’s the second notice I received in the past six months – though this one had slightly better grammar.

Over the years, I’ve received more than 20 similar invitations from both local and international organizers. Ninety percent of them were tempting. The awards were like Instagram filters, but more about flattery than reality.

Spotting a trick

The organizer tells you to click a link for details. And that’s when it hits you. Before you can claim your plaque, trophy and deliver a three-minute acceptance speech on stage in a hotel ballroom somewhere between Dubai and one’s imagination, you have to pay between $1,000 and $1,999 for the Platinum Leadership Award in Asia.

This includes a glossy feature article in a “global” magazine, read by the organizer’s five workers, your fellow “winners” and three bots.

The cost excludes the air fare, hotel accommodation and meals. That’s on you, Mister or Miss Champ.

Welcome to the glimmering galaxy of vanity awards – where the red carpet is real, but the prestige is purchased by the winners. Here’s how to spot the trick:

1. Organizer’s murky background. If you’ve never heard of them – and even Google squints in confusion – you’re probably dealing with an awards factory. Their business model is less about recognizing excellence and more about rewarding whoever can pay the fastest.

2. There’s a fee for the award. Glory isn’t free. The ‘entry fee’ graciously covers the costs of your shiny plaque, the gala where you clap for strangers, press releases and a digital marketing magic informing your fellow “winners” you won something.

3. Third-party nomination. Judging by the organizer’s evasive, if not vague tone, it could be an intern, a bot or possibly an email algorithm with a caffeine problem. Beyond that, they won’t say a word, as if the whole process was classified by the CIA.

4. Award notification. They will tell you’ve beaten more than 50 nominees from around the world. No such thing. Every gullible person wins. It’s the participation trophy of capitalism with several fake gold leaves. When there are more “winners,” they offer a buffet of other awards that include the Platinum Icon of the Century.

5. Doubtful award. Caveat emptor. Beware if the word “prestigious” appears more than three times in the notification email. It’s to give you a professional appearance even if it’s a rented tuxedo. The tuxedo gives you a sharp look for one night, but it’s not really yours.

6. Selection criteria are vague. Instead, they mesmerize you with the term “unique accolade.” It’s not the same as winning an industry recognition from respected authorities. But an abstract-like horoscope telling you it’s a legal and valid contract.

7. Judges’ identity is confidential. They claim it’s to uphold objectivity and comply with data privacy laws, though it conveniently doubles as a great excuse for avoiding accountability.

Ego vulnerability

Who buys these awards? Smart people. Talented professionals. People who should know better – but get caught in a moment of ego vulnerability. They’re people who are working hard in crowded industries where recognition is rare and hard-earned. When legitimate recognition is hard to come by, vanity awards offer an alluring shortcut.

Imagine the peculiar appeal of being called “The Most Influential Leader in Southeast Asia.” It sounds good on a LinkedIn bio – until someone Googles the award-giving body and discovers it operates from a shared office in New Jersey.

And yet, why do people fall for it? Because we love external validation if it comes with a shiny trophy. Harvard psychologist Ellen Langer described this phenomenon as the “illusion of control” or the belief that we can engineer the result by being proactive.

Vanity awards tap into that. Some people don’t wait to be discovered; they pay to be discovered.

At the end of the day, a true award should reflect achievement, not advertisement. It should come from industry peers and objective judges – not payment processors. Vanity awards offer a moment of fame, but real reputation is built on actual, real substance.

Therefore, if you receive one of those flattering notices, take a deep breath. Think if you really deserve the award. If you’re not sure, check your inbox. So, the next time one of these flattery bombs lands in your inbox, pause. Take a deep breath. And ask yourself:

Do I really deserve this? And more importantly: Why do I have to pay for it? If it comes with a payment link, it’s probably not about your excellence.

It’s about your money. Remember – your worth isn’t defined by a plaque on your wall, but by the impact you make, the value you deliver and the reputation you build every day, no down payment required, no monthly installment plan.

Rey Elbo is a quality and productivity improvement enthusiast. Email your story to [email protected] or DM them on Facebook, LinkedIn, X, or https://reyelbo.com. Anonymity is guaranteed even if you’re too eager and naïve to receive an award.