More and More People are Using this Word and It's Driving Me Mad

Remember when the Valley-girl "like" infected millions of people's speech patterns? There's another word on the horizon, and I have to finally speak out.

There is a horrifying phenomenon occurring on podcasts, podiums, and platforms all across the country, and I’m curious if you’ve noticed.

Consider this post my formal PSA.

(Alternatively, consider this post my forever answer to the question, “What is your biggest pet peeve?”)

I’ve resisted saying anything public about it, but it’s hit a breaking point.

I have to speak up.

It is kiiiiillllling me.

There hasn’t been a conference I’ve attended, a sermon I’ve listened to, or a podcast I’ve streamed in which the alarming and increased occurrence of this phenomenon hasn’t reared its ugly head.

The phenomenon I’m referring to is the unnecessary and obnoxious usage of one particular word—hang tight, I tell you the word in a minute.

This word has infected public speakers, preachers, podcasters, presenters, and even everyday people who might spontaneously monologue on any given favorite topic.

I feel it’s similar to when “like” creeped into our vernacular and, like, while it may have, like, began in the small corner of 80’s valley-girl jargon it eventually, like, weaseled its way into way, way too many conversations and speaking styles. To this day when people overuse “like” in their speech patterns I struggle to not judge them.

That’s on me, I know that, but I’m not the only one.

Along the same lines in which I’m venting here today about this other word, here’s an article from several years back on the rise of “like,” in which the author writes:

But the rise of “like” in affiliation with the vapidity of the Valley had a negative consequence: It began to be associated with a lack of intelligence or substance, particularly when speakers use it to excess, a linguistic crutch that moves from being useful to becoming annoying.

Of course not everyone agreed with how using “like” became a linguistic crutch that communicated a lack of substance. For instance, Malcom Gladwell (whom I highly respect) wrote a piece in 1992 in defense of the usage of “like.” Because of course he did. Typical Gladwell, zagging where everyone else zigs.

Anyway, my observation, and the point of this article, is to illuminate and lament that we’ve got a new “like” infecting our speech. A new crutch word that similarly has moved from being-useful to becoming-annoying. It’s everywhere. I cringe each time I hear it.

This word is nails on the chalkboard of my ear holes.

I’m about to tell you what it is, but reader beware. The few people I’ve spoken to in private about this have later come to resent me pointing it out.

Because once you hear, you can’t unhear.

It’s like that episode of How I Met Your Mother (Season 3, Episode 8). The running gag is how you don’t notice someone’s annoying habit… until you do. All episode long various characters point out other character’s annoying habits, then a glass-shattering sound effect is played (as if to break the illusion of not-seeing), and now everyone instantly notices it.

So only proceed if you really don’t mind the potential for being thoroughly annoyed from here on out.

(By the way: If you yourself are a public speaker or podcaster or something like it then I suggest you continue reading. You might be infected and you don’t even realize it.)

This problem has been getting worse as people seem to pick it up subconsciously from others and then starting using it themselves. When I noticed a couple years ago that I started doing it I immediately panicked and made immediate adjustments.

If I say it now, it’s rare and accidental.

When I think about where I first clocked the strange usage of this word, I’m taken back about eight years ago while watching a well known author/speaker present a talk on YouTube for Oprah’s Super Soul Sunday channel. The first few times she said it I remember thinking, “That’s an odd way to end that sentence. Maybe she’s nervous?”

But then she kept doing it. Long after the nerves had surely subsided. I searched the transcript of her 22 minute talk and found 23 instances of this word.

Meaning every single minute of her talk she did this thing.

At the time I chalked it up to an aberration. Maybe it was just her? Her style?

Fast forward to October of two years ago. Again, on YouTube, I’m watching a TED talk from—ironically—Malcom Gladwell. The title of the talk is “The Tipping Point I Got Wrong” in which Gladwell beautifully and humbly admits that the central point of his breakout book, The Tipping Point, was wrong. The talk is worth your ten minutes.

But it was while watching that video when I realized, “Holy cow, this is annoying. We’ve got a real problem on our hands.” I suppose you could call that moment (again, ironically) my tipping point.

The point at which I began noticing it everywhere.

Before I finally tell you what this word is, this phenomenon that’s spreading like wildfire, give this 90 second clip a watch and see if you notice yourself.

In case you missed it, let me finally shatter the illusion for you.

The word infecting sentences,

the phenomenon sweeping the country,

is when people end their thought or their sentence with the word, “right.”

And it is driving me nuts. And it seems to be only getting worse.

Call to Action

So please, if you:

• Host a podcast

• Preach sermons

• Speak publicly

• Teach

• Or even when you’re in conversation with friends

I implore you, start listening for whether or not you are ending sentences with, “right?”

If you are, it’s not too late.

You can stop.

And please, stop.

May this not become another “like.”

May our public discourse not be dumbed down yet again with this seemingly harmless yet utterly obnoxious (and, now that you’ll listen for it, totally distracting) vocal crutch.

Okay, that’s it.

That’s my PSA.

I’ve held in my frustrations long enough. I’ve suffered in silence, listening to my favorite podcasts and weeping as I’ve noticed multiple hosts and recurring guests get infected with, right…

So I thank you for letting me share. BTW, if you’ve noticed this, can you let me know in the comments? Help me feel less alone?

For everyone else, stay safe out there.

And I’ll try and stay sane in here (🧠👈🏽).

-Colby

p.s. If it’s helpful, here’s one thing I do when someone drops a “right” where it doesn’t belong: I respond back to the person who said it—usually in my head, but sometimes out loud—with a, “No, NOT right. How was I supposed to know that?” It offers a modicum of relief.