When you see the word "interface" in someone's personally written bio, you can surmise they have never done anything in their lives, and then validate the surmise if you wish with a modicum of inspection.
There is no substance in their work, nor legitimacy in their career. They will be pretentious, empty, insecure, robotic, and envious of anyone who is legitimate. Everything is jargon and made up, because there is nothing of substance in what they do or who they are. Anyone else could be them, and the same jargon could simply be applied. They are so replaceable that they might as well not exist. They speak in non-human type terms, because they're scarcely human. They lost the ability to be human. When? Probably very early on. Almost certainly by high school.
There are other words in bios which indicate the same reality. "Interface" isn't alone. But that's what the presence of the word and words of almost always means. It's the kind of word an insecure person who wants to be thought of as smart who is not smart uses as an attempted cover-up.
What it also means is this person doesn't have a real job. It's a made up job in essence, so that they can exist. The job doesn't add anything to the world. It produces no necessary goods. It fosters no learning. It has no practicality. It doesn't inspire. Impart. Entertain. There's no need for the job to be done, and it's a job that creates problems for others who are trying to do their jobs which have more of a point to them. It's really someone whose entire life is an excuse to technically not be dead. Their job follows accordingly.
They will also be toxic, bitter, petty. Also likely to write their own Wikipedia page. There is a high probability that they'll be in academia. A cadaver on a windy day being rolled into the funeral home may be said to possess more life.
That all of this is true makes them hate everything that they are, because of everything they are not. It is also what makes them hate someone for whom none of this is remotely true. Their life is a kind of battle of hate, as to whom they hate more: that person, or themselves. Their solution? Surround themselves with people who are also this way. Die together. Fail to be alive together. Hate together. Keep out together.
It's very much a literary journal type of approach to existence and death-in-life. There are almost never any exceptions with the people behind these assorted "tells." I'll click on an example of their work when I see a bio like this, and it's always the same kind of thing.