Is, Like, Saying “Like” Cool?

The fundamentals of public speaking and Expos 40 dictate that we should eliminate filler phrases from our speeches. Rather than filling silences with “like”s and “um”s, we should simply pause, collect our thoughts, and resume in an Obamaesque manner. It’s emphatic, our teachers tell us. After making an important point, the silence carries the gravity of our words — whatever that means. But somehow, we always find ourselves saying, “like.”

For many, the word “like” evokes images of “Valley Girl” — a movie most of our generation probably hasn’t even seen — and stereotypical teenage ditzes. For me, “like” invokes a memory of a conversation I had at Harvard with someone who said “like” six times in a row because they lost their train of thought. That’s not to say using filler phrases is a bad thing. The word “like” is a pleasant reminder of how we ditched the formality of unmuting and muting on Zoom and returned to in-person conversations. Listening to that person’s struggle to rack their brain for the thought that just wouldn’t resurface, I was reminded of countless memories of being in the same position.

Contrary to what a debate coach might say, using filler phrases can actually be a good thing. A study from the University of Texas at Austin found that people who use filler phrases such as “like” and “you know” actually appear more thoughtful and deliberate. Filler phrases tend to appear more commonly among “women, younger participants, and more conscientious people,” who “use discourse markers, such as ‘I mean’ and ‘you know,’ to imply their desire to share or rephrase opinions to recipients.” Having devoted their full attention to the conversation at hand, they are thinking carefully about how to convey information in a nuanced manner. A natural consequence of these findings to me seems that using “totes my goats” is linked to being unpopular. The details aren’t important, but like, you get the gist.

Such is the duality of filler phrases. They invoke images of “Valley Girl” and surfer bros, but also a sense of familiarity — a reminder that despite others’ world-class achievements, they’re just as human and prone to verbal tics as we are. Even at Harvard, with classmates who have sat in on Parliament meetings and performed in Carnegie Hall, we can’t stop ourselves from saying “like.”

But beyond that, filler words serve a functional purpose. Discourse markers help us evaluate whether the people we converse with are invested in our conversations, as well as their personality types — infinitely helpful for the fretful Harvard freshman trying to “find their people” a week before the semester even starts. In fact, some studies have suggested that speech-lacking filler phrases can sound too reserved, careful, or even unfriendly (that probably explains why your crush has never said “like” or “um” around you). When declining an invitation, saying “um, well, like, sorry” can appear more polite than simply saying, “no” (a tip for when someone confesses their crush on you — not that it’ll ever happen).

Filler words, in the right time and place, are comforting. Used in informal conversations, certain phrases, such as “like” and “you know what I mean,” can actually demonstrate attentiveness and help convey your ideas more clearly. Used in the middle of a presentation or interview, however, they can detract from your credibility and overall message; repeating “um” suggests that you’re unprepared even when you aren’t. To sum it up for the ruthlessly results-oriented Harvard students among us: use filler phrases when graded on participation; ditch them when graded on presentation.

Filler words represent a microcosm of the dichotomy between formal and informal conversation, a dichotomy that shouldn’t exist. Removing them from our parlance doesn’t change who we are or the quality of our ideas; just because someone (i.e. that one section kid) speaks with formal language doesn’t mean they’re smarter or merit more attention. Instead, we should acknowledge that great ideas are great ideas, regardless of how they are communicated. Doing so necessitates realizing that we often substitute mental shortcuts for more difficult problems, such as evaluating the quality of one’s ideas based on how one speaks. Increasing tolerance for filler words can rightfully shift our perception of professionalism.

For now, though, I don’t recommend using “totes my goats” in your next interview. You’re a Harvard student, after all; you’ve got to speak to impress.

Andrew P. Y. Zhao ’25, a Crimson Editorial editor, lives in Grays Hall.