I’m not your most gifted conversationalist. I like to keep it brief, get to the point, say what needs to be said, and avoid the word salad of the day that’s supposed to make you look smart, but mostly makes me think you are anything but. Brevity and clarity are perfect. Here are the phrases I hate. Maybe I’m just old. Or maybe I hate them because I’m old.
Take the classic: “It is what it is.”
A sentence so profoundly empty it almost achieves philosophical status. Of course it is, what else can it be? It is not something else. Why must it be said?
Or consider: “At the end of the day…”
Every day ends. That’s the arrangement. What is the point of this? What if it happens at the start of the day? You know… it is what it is. Ideally, the day ends with you not speaking and heading home.
Then the ever-reliable: “No offense, but…”
Really? This is the ultimate “please prepare yourself” announcement, like STFU. Look at that, I managed to work in one of those newfangled abbreviations I claim to dislike. See the skill? Wove it right in. You know, no offense, but at the end of the day, it is what it is. If I want to offend (and I’m quite capable), I won’t disguise it as a courtesy.
We also have the paradoxical masterpieces:
- “I could care less.” (Meaning you care… at least a little.)
- “Exact same.” (As opposed to the approximate same?)
- “Very unique.” (Either it is, or it isn’t.)
Okay, now my head starts to twitch. “I don’t care” is one less word and suddenly more meaningful. Please stop talking like this. The “exact same”? Does this really need reinforcement? The “exact same” is like being “too wet.” Wet is Wet, already doing the job. (Yes, that’s a Seinfeld bit, and yes, it applies.)
Right alongside “very unique,” you can’t be very unique. It’s like being 110% correct. Impressive, but not real. These aren’t just slips; they’ve become normalized, repeated so often they pass without challenge. They’re linguistic fast food: quick, familiar, and not particularly nourishing.
And then there are the phrases that pretend to check for understanding but really just pad the sentence:
“You know what I mean.”
“You see what I’m saying.”
“Right?”
I know you’re speaking. I can hear you. I can even see your lips moving. That doesn’t mean anything meaningful has arrived. I cannot see what you’re saying. “Right” is a direction, and yes, something can be correct without being repeated three times.
Corporate language deserves its own subsection of this problem. Entire meetings are conducted in statements that sound important while actively avoiding meaning:
“Let’s circle back.”
“We need to leverage our core competencies.”
“This will help move the needle.”
I could not be happier in retirement, so I don’t have to hear this drivel. Why are we circling anything? Let’s decide. Why would we not use our competencies unless we’re incompetent?
And I’m not moving any needle, but I will move my fork if you buy lunch… or perhaps you can go tend to your own fork.
Words are tools. When they’re used well, they sharpen ideas and carry meaning cleanly from one mind to another. When they’re used like this, they do the opposite; they dull everything they touch. Enough word salad.
So here’s the gripe: say something, or don’t. But if you’re going to use words, make them do the job. Otherwise, it is what it is, so at the end of the day, no offense I wouldn’t want to hurt your feelings (I did) I could care less to have the exact same very unique chat. You know what I mean? You see what I’m saying? Since it is very unique… right? Let’s circle back when I list my core competencies, and I can move that needle. And that, unfortunately, is the problem.
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