It’s, Like, Not Even That Hard: Judgement Based on “Like” is Out of Fashion

Written by Sophia R.

“Meaningless filler” is a description used by Google to define the term like. I beg to differ. A filler? Sometimes. Meaningless? Never. Like is a term we all, like, use — despite some people being more stereotypically associated with its usage — and really, it does have a purpose. We like-users have the right to use the word without suffering from unjust attacks on our intelligence.

Like is a multi-purposed linguistic tool; similar to clothing, many variations of like exist, each with a different utility. Your closet of vocabulary includes the basics: the verb like (“I like your dress”) and the preposition like (“shopping is like a reward to recover from the stress of school”), for example. Then, with the change in current trends, modern-day closets have expanded to include quotative like (“she was like, ‘this top is totally your color!’”) and adverb like (“retail therapy is like my favorite thing ever”). The addition of the quotative and adverb like to culturally-accepted speech was like when women started wearing pants: something initially seen as shocking and unacceptable but now an integral part of wardrobes.

Our wardrobe expansions not only include new articles of clothing but also new stylistic flairs. Stylistic flairs, in being loved by some but hated by others, both excite and provoke.  The two more forms of like we must discuss are the flashy, neon like, if you will. The newest clothes of the season: the discourse marker like and the discourse particle like.

We can call the discourse marker a scarf (still neon, of course). Simply put, the scarf adds a layer to the main body of discussion, supplementing its heat. When like signals “exemplification, clarification, [or] elaboration” by linking “the current utterance to prior discourse,” it is a scarf. In cases like these, the scarf has the same purpose as other words like ‘so,’ ‘then,’ ‘you know,’ ‘I think.’ The other hanger in our closet is the discourse particle, or the jacket. The jacket is the form of like that Google unjustly considers meaningless. The jacket and scarf hold similar, yet distinct purposes. While the scarf connects ideas through its layering, the jacket connects people through its sleeves. A jacket can be described as two smaller tunnels of sleeves, or sides, that extend from the torso, or center. In the context of like, these sleeves connect two sides, bringing them to a common ground at the jacket’s torso. The jacket checks for audience understanding and builds a connection between members of a conversation; plus, isn’t wearing someone else’s jacket the high school equivalent of a wedding ring? In terms of linguistic application, like does this by acting as “pausal interjections” (fillers) like ‘um’ or ‘uh.’ The following sentences exemplify both usages: “Like, I got those shoes for, like, such a great deal.” I say things like this and the chances are, you do too. Adding like to our diction is stylish. It pulls deeper into our ideas. It checks to ensure everyone is included and following along. It strives to leave no one out in the cold. From an objective perspective ignorant of the norms of society, like should hold only positive connotations.

Despite the benefits it reaps and its widespread usage, society diminishes the worth of like by ascribing it 1) to mean nothing, and 2) to worsen perceptions of certain demographics. Without knowing the technical and linguistic proof of like’s benefits, it is understandable that the scarf and jacket like seem to bring minimal contributions to one’s message. It is also understandable that excessively repeating the neon yellow scarf and jacket in daily outfit choices can come across as distracting. This, however, does not warrant the mistreatment of like as a whole, as if trying to bleach the neon out of our systems. In our schools: a primary school head in the UK banned like, arguing that it would shroud children’s ability to produce coherent sentences; in response, the UK Minister of State for Schools Nick Gibb expressed his approval and encouraged others to do the same. In our phones: LikeSo, for example, is an app cultivated to analyze one’s ‘speech fitness’ and grade it based on the number of filler words used. In all of these ways, like’s value shrinks like cotton shirts in the dryer. 

To understand how today’s negative perception of like — with society wanting to reduce its usage — unreasonably targets groups of people, we must begin with the origin of the scarf and jacket. This neon clothing trend started in the later part of the 1900s in Southern California by adolescents and young adults. However, since then, like has been worn by the general American English dialect. Picture someone saying the following: “Like, did you hear how she said, like, he liked her. Like, what?” Do you have a specific speaker in mind when you imagine that? Now picture the following, specifically said with a little increase in pitch at the end of each word: “like, did you, like, hear how, like, she said that, like, he liked her. Like, what?” If you haven’t already, I assume you are now picturing a teenage girl. By a teenage girl, I mean a very blonde, very American, very shopping-addicted teenage girl. I certainly was. Now, like’s associations with this demographic in itself are harmless; however, when society-at-large equates like with ‘ditziness,’ this three-way connection proves detrimental. And that is exactly what has happened. Beyond trying to throw like out of society’s vocabulary, the attempts to push like away like an aged-out trend tend to target women. The negative ‘valley girl’ association has extended in society’s eyes to the entire demographic of women: 50% of the population. One Manhattan law firm, Clifford Chance, sent out a memo to just their female associates titled ‘Presentation Tips for Women’; in addition to the unappreciated yet expected notes about reducing cleavage (it seems that all fashion choices are being dictated), these women were also told to stop using like. The women were pushed to “pretend [they were] in moot court, not the high school cafeteria.” Behind the layer of attempted sugarcoating, the firm simply said that the women’s naturally-used language wasn’t professional enough for them. Society has expressed its rampant distaste for like but has gone beyond to almost patronize women, telling them that they must shut up each time like even nears their lips.

The rage you should feel — either from having experienced something similar yourself or from realizing the injustice here — should make you reconsider how you, too, perceive like. The way girls are associated with excessive like usage cannot be blamed only on men. For example, the Clifford Chance law firm, despite sending the anti-like memo, is a majority female-led firm; I even linked like and teenage girls above myself. Everyone who sees like as a feminine weakness contributes to the stigmatization of scarves and jackets, directly undermining an entire gender. It undermines the countless intelligent adolescent girls and young women who have been thrust into being associated with unintelligence. It undermines me and all of the girls who have worthwhile thoughts to listen to and ideas to share and value to contribute and who do not deserve their intellect to be questioned. We deserve to see ourselves with respect. We deserve to wear neon whenever we want and be seen as just as intelligent regardless.

In addition, like goes beyond just enhancing the conversation through its addition: removing the scarf or jacket like hinders it too. Whilst like is often looked down upon, it has become a staple in our everyday lives to the point that speech lacking in like “can sound too careful, robotic or unfriendly.” This means that people have become so used to hearing like, that they rely on its presence to reassure them that they are connected and accepted. The use of like, in avoiding stilted and uncomfortably formal interactions, in addition to its actual purpose of 1) making ideas layer better as a scarf, and 2) letting audiences understand better as a jacket, are literally for the audience’s benefit. For all you know, they’re just giving you space to catch up.

As a result, we see that the issue with like is not its lack of importance in our language use but rather with how we appraise language use. Do we, as a society, have the right to erase a word because we gave it a meaning that we don’t like? Do we, as women, have the right to speak how we want without worry of judgment? What if, instead of trying to change our speech patterns to fit the ‘educated’ form of speaking, we change the standards of what educated forms of speaking mean? Society has the power to change what words connote. We can reclaim like in our daily speech: embrace our natural speaking patterns and wear scarves and jackets whenever we please. On a larger scale, we can take this example to inform all other situations in which we unfairly judge people’s intelligence based on what society decides as characteristics of ‘smartness.’ Whether this be spelling ability or how many classics someone has read recently, there are plenty more occasions where intelligence has become a black-and-white concept. But we know now that bright neon shows just as much intelligence: just take a look at our closets.