Friday, November 13, 2026
I mean, have you noticed how many people begin sentences with “I mean”?
I mean, it’s everywhere. Athletes, actors, political commentators, game show contestants, interviewers, interviewees. Everybody seems to be meaning something before they’ve said anything. It’s like beginning a conversation by saying, “In other words…”
Ask a baseball player how he felt about striking out with the bases loaded and he’ll tell you, “I mean, obviously I wanted to get a hit.” Ask an actor how she portrayed her character so convincingly and she’ll say, “I mean, there’s a lot of her in me.”
I mean …what exactly?
Once upon a time, “I mean” served a useful linguistic purpose. It introduced a clarification, correction or elaboration of something already said. “He’s a difficult person. I mean, he’s not unpleasant, just impossible to have a conversation with.” Perfectly reasonable. Something was said, and something else was offered to clarify it.
Now we’ve apparently decided to clarify ourselves in advance. Before uttering a single substantive word, we announce that we’re about to explain what we’ll mean by something we haven’t yet said.
Linguists call expressions like these “discourse markers.” They’re conversational devices, much like “well,” “you know” and “like.” They don’t contribute to the meaning of a statement, but they help speakers get started.
Fair enough. Language evolves. Yesterday’s oddity becomes tomorrow’s convention. Still, there’s something wonderfully absurd about beginning a statement with a clarification of absolutely nothing.
And if you think that’s peculiar, consider what happens in the world of politics. There the problem is often reversed. Instead of clarifying something that hasn’t yet been said, elected officials are adept at saying things that they subsequently refuse to clarify. A typical exchange:
“Congressman, do you support the president’s proposal?”
“What the American people want is leadership that puts hardworking families first, and that’s what I’ll continue fighting for.”
“But do you support the proposal?”
“What’s important here is that we stop playing partisan games. Americans want leadership!”
“And the proposal?”
“I mean, frankly, the other side is the problem. I mean, it’s disgraceful.”
Three answers. Zero information. The congressman hasn’t said anything requiring clarification. What he means is, “I’m determined not to mean anything.”
Political evasiveness is hardly new. But today’s practitioners have elevated the nonanswer into an art form. Some answer questions they weren’t asked. Others attack the questioner. Some repeat rehearsed slogans, regardless of the subject. Some just lie. Others bury the question beneath an avalanche of disconnected words.
Disturbingly, these techniques frequently work. A politician who responds aggressively, confidently and at length may appear to have answered a question even when the response contains nothing resembling an answer. We’ve become accustomed to judging political performances rather than evaluating political statements. Did the congresswoman put that pesky reporter in his place? Apparently, whether anyone actually answered the question has become a secondary consideration.
Of course, there’s an important distinction between saying something meaningless and saying something you don’t mean. A politician may articulate a perfectly understandable position while privately believing the opposite. The words are clear; the sincerity is missing. And that’s another increasingly familiar political maneuver: telling constituents, donors, party leaders and television audiences whatever each wants to hear, even when the messages are contradictory.
The objective isn’t necessarily to communicate a belief. It’s to survive the next election, avoid offending a donor or escape an uncomfortable interview. Words become instruments of self-preservation rather than communication.
Perhaps politicians have found the perfect use for “I mean.” It’s a phrase that suggests an intention to communicate something meaningful without requiring anything meaningful to follow.
One troubling consequence is that we begin to accept this as normal. We stop expecting answers and insisting on explanations. We stop caring about meaning. We become spectators at performances in which the appearance of conviction substitutes for the expression of actual convictions.
There’s nothing dangerous about an athlete beginning with “I mean.” It’s merely an irritating verbal tic. But when the people entrusted with governing us routinely substitute evasion, deception and meaningless rhetoric for honest communication, something far more important is at stake.
I mean, shouldn’t we expect our elected officials to say what they mean? And, perhaps more important, to mean what they say?
Michael Blitz is professor emeritus and former chair of the Department of Interdisciplinary Studies at the City University of New York’s John Jay College of Criminal Justice.
