Thanks for reading.
No, that's not going to work. What I mean is that…I really, literally, thank you for reading this.
“Actually”—and the use of supportive words in general—is everywhere these days. I saw it recently in the new Safari advertising campaign that ran during the Olympic Games, because a simple slogan — “A browser that's private” — doesn't sound as convincing as “A browser that's truly private.”
We want that extra strength, as if there were a category of the private beyond the private, something that goes beyond the definitive. We need a greater guarantee, although we know that is not the case.
“Literally” works the same way. If I tell you this is the best burger I’ve ever had, what else do I get for “literally” adding a bunch of fried onions on top? Nothing. (I have no idea what a figuratively better burger would look or taste like, but of course, figurative burgers don’t exist.)
Try this for a day: every time you see or hear “actually” or “literally,” subtract it and recite the sentence again. Yes, indeed: it means exactly the same thing that an adverb meant a while ago.
Which brings me to the expression “I thank you.” A quick search suggests that it has been in common usage in the South for a while, but lately it has made its way to our Southern California shores. I can’t remember the last time I received a simple thank you for something I’d done, but many people thank me every day.
I’m not sure what it means. “I appreciate you” could be a more personal version of “I appreciate you,” or it could be a holistic appreciation of my being—a lovely idea but probably not what the speaker intends, because whatever I just did wouldn’t warrant such an existential hug.
It turns out my confusion is beside the point. As a nation, according to Georgetown University linguistics professor Deborah TannenWe like new jargon more than its exact meaning. “Using new terms or phrases is interesting and fresh,” he said. “People want original ways of saying things that have been said a million times before.”
It's sad to think that we would now want to turn up the volume on language, we would want to appreciate and be appreciated. We crave security, and who wouldn't when local tectonic plates aren't the only ones moving? Reality seems to depend more on volume than facts, and the more the headlines contradict each other, the less sure we are of what's under our feet. We feel vulnerable, so we overcompensate with emphatic language. The illusion of substance is better than none.
How anxious are we? I know people who have been watching the news with the volume turned down or pacing back and forth while flipping through newspapers, too nervous to sit still while reading the details.
In these circumstances, we like to feel good anywhere. On a bad day, I'm willing to believe that you appreciate me even if you barely know me.
A doctor once explained to me what she called the blue convertible syndrome: when you buy a blue convertible, you see them everywhere. She talked about discovering that your medical diagnosis is common, which is comforting because you are not alone. I am now part of the blue convertible language, which means I stumble upon real, literal appreciation everywhere I look.
Maybe this happens to you too. I hope it gives you some comfort: when the great ideas we trust in falter, we protect ourselves with filler words.
If you want a historical note to back up my theory, I refer you to 1974, when Olivia Newton-John published “I Honestly Love You” in the midst of the fallout from the Watergate scandal, just four months before Richard Nixon resigned from the presidency. Divorce courts may be full of dishonest love, but you get my point. Most of the time, love doesn’t need a qualifier like that.
But when life overwhelms us, then and now, we inflate our verbal floats and talk our way to the surface.
Karen Stabiner is a journalist, novelist and author of six non-fiction books.
