can we, like, not comment on womens' speech patterns?

why do women need to talk like men in order to break glass ceilings?

A few years ago, Business Insider reported that women often overuse the word "just," which conveys “a subtle message of subordination.” Speech coaches advise women to say “sorry” less frequently. Radio listeners often complain about "vocal fry," claiming it makes it difficult to listen to women speakers. And Masterclass said that women who suffer from upspeak — also known as “Valley Girl lift” — appear to have "an unexplainable lack of confidence" in their opinions, as they turn declarative sentences into questions.

At first glance, this advice might seem empowering: Women, stop sugarcoating, don't hedge your requests, and express your opinions confidently! But should women be the ones to change? If I articulate something intelligent and all a listener can focus on is my delivery, isn't that the listener's issue? With men, the focus is often on what they say — their points and assertions. Ideally, isn’t that how we should listen to everyone?

With women there's this tendency to scrutinize how we speak — the words we choose, the emphases, and even our facial expressions. Like, maybe, smile more?

I care about good diction. I want nothing more than to be heard and understood. In my writing, it’s simple to search for phrases like "I think" and eliminate any tentative language that might dilute my messages. In spoken communication, however, I find it much more challenging to recognize and adjust my linguistic habits. As I began posting on TikTok and hosting my podcast a couple of years ago, I became acutely aware of my vocal patterns. Comments about my upspeak and vocal fry are frequent. It's a bizarre paradox - we're encouraged to be authentic on social media, but only if that authenticity fits within a very narrow, pre-approved range. I'm starting to think my vocal fry is less annoying than the constant unsolicited advice about it.

Academia is a different story. I am almost always instructed to emulate the typical assertive style of confident men — no "just," no "I think," and absolutely no "does that make sense?" Instead, I'm supposed to wrap up with "Do you have any questions for me?" as if I've just delivered a TED talk. I could write an entirely separate post about this performative professionalism. It's like we're all playing a game of "who can sound the most authoritative?" But sounding confident doesn't always equate to having something worthwhile to say. And that authority contest seems to often stifle meaningful dialogue and sharing of tentative or novel ideas that could spark deeper discussion and discovery.

These language norms are a form of social control. By dictating how women should speak, they reinforce traditional gender roles and maintain existing power structures. As sociologist Erving Goffman observed, we are all actors on the stage of professional life, but women seem to be handed a particularly restrictive script. This pressure feels like just another way for society to silence women and undermine their credibility. It makes us self-conscious and doubt our own competence, all because we don't conform to a narrow, masculine-coded ideal of communication.

In my TikTok videos and podcast, mimicking "a confident man" would strip my content of all that I love and all that people resonate with — its unique cadence and meaning; its intimate, friendly tone. It would no longer feel authentic to me. This pressure feels like just another way society can tell women to shut the f*ck up, dumb b*tch. It makes women self-conscious and doubt their competence. God forbid we actually sound like ourselves instead of some Siri-Alexa hybrid programmed for maximum authority. Because nothing says "take me seriously" quite like sounding like you've had a personality bypass.

Plus, isn’t true progress really about allowing women to speak just as they are, and being respected for it? I think society needs to evolve past the idea that there's only one 'right' way to communicate. True equality means embracing how naturally diverse our voices are. My ideas don't magically become more valid if I deliver them in a deep, monotonous voice. If we can treat a woman’s softer tones or unique speech patterns with the same seriousness as the commanding voices often heard in boardrooms, then we’re really getting somewhere. This isn’t just about fairness; it’s about enriching our whole social fabric by affirming that every voice, no matter its pitch or cadence, deserves a fair hearing.

The real kicker is that Deborah Tannen, Professor of Linguistics at Georgetown University, argues that the very elements career coaches suggest women eliminate are actually signs of highly evolved communication. Using phrases like "so," "I guess," "like," "actually," and "I mean" sends cues to listeners, helping them understand what’s new, important, or humorous. These linguistic features foster cohesion and coherence, fulfilling the critical roles of understanding and sharing within a social species. If women use these forms more frequently, it may be because they excel at human interaction. Women might slightly undermine themselves when they speak naturally, but only in the sense that they are striving to express their thoughts more authentically and connect more directly with their audience.

I know that I will continue to encounter "advice" from podcast listeners or self-proclaimed experts on the internet about how women are too creaky-voiced, too apologetic, or overly verbose. But in a world increasingly dominated by AI and automated communication, perhaps these 'feminine' traits - empathy, nuance, and contextual awareness - are exactly what we need more of, not less.

I wish I could tell them that language isn’t just about making arguments or conveying information succinctly. Ultimately, isn't the goal of communication to connect, to understand and be understood? If so, maybe it's time we start valuing clarity over authority, and connection over command.

Perhaps the real challenge isn't changing how women speak, but changing how society listens.

Does that make sense?