At this point I believe the whole English-speaking world is well aware that the United States of America have a president whose vocabulary rarely ventures beyond the basic level of competence. His battleships are big, very big, the biggest you've ever seen and the bills he wants Congress to pass are, well... big and beautiful. Literally. The thing is... even if you state that a warship is huge, colossal, gargantuan or gigantic you'll be using A1-level grammar (i.e. it is). Are those adjectives "advanced"? Absolutely. Does the whole sentence sound advanced? Not really. Not to a discerning English teacher, anyway.
When it comes to descriptions, one of the obvious advanced skills consists in choosing the right synonym for the right term. So, a majority can be vast, a distance astronomical, the universe immense, an appetite gargantuan, a struggle titanic, a dose massive, and so on and so forth. It would be weird to say that your appetite is vast and your weight is astronomical. How do you know which collocations work and which don't? At first, you just don't, but after stumbling across one adjective a number of times a pattern typically emerges and oft-repeated combinations become recognizable. That is what conventions are all about. If you want to be a writer you'll have to steer clear of those shopworn phrases, but an English learner should not attempt to "go creative". If your ultimate goal is the C2 certificate, then you're only expected to master the conventions. I am well aware that the process is quite time-consuming, but, trust me, there is no other way to learn lexical conventions. You just bump into them and then start using them.
Today, though, I'd like to point out something a lot easier than getting exposed to thousands of collocations. I only want to show you how you can turn a simple phrase into a truly advanced expression just by adding a couple of words. Don't believe me? Check out the examples below. The sentence in bold is basic (A2), but the text in brackets elevates it to C2 heaven.
He fought (tooth and nail)
He lied (through his teeth)
She passed the exam (with flying colors)
She is the best (hands down)
I'm waiting (with bated breath)
They fell for it (hook, line and sinker)
Do you see how simple it can be? The words in brackets add spice, vividness and, of course, meaning. Think about the first one. "He fought" is a neutral statement. "He fought tooth and nail", however, gives a completely different vibe. It forces you to picture the desperation and intensity of a visceral struggle. You've got no other weapons but your teeth and fingernails. That's a back-against-the-wall situation. In Spanish we happen to have the same idiom: "luchar con uñas y dientes" and a phrase which evokes a similar vibe: "defenderse como gato panza arriba".
I hope my point is clear. Anyway, the next time you come across a sentence with a similar "add-on", remember that those extra words truly make the difference between A2 and C2.
J. R. R. Tolkien, author of The Lord of the Rings (1955), created the Elvish languages Sindarin and Quenya specifically to sound beautiful. Marc Okrand, however, developed klingon with a radically different intent. Harve Bennett, the producer of Stark Trek: The Search for Spock (1984) had asked him to create an alien tongue that met two criteria: it should sound both extraterrestrial and ugly. Twenty years later, during the pre-production of Avatar (2008), linguist Paul Frommer was commissioned to engineer another language. This one should be both alien and beautiful. Na'vi was the result of that request. Whether their endeavors were successful or not is a matter of debate. I suspect, though, that most opinions probably concur. Sindarin and Na'vi do have a nice feel to them whereas Klingon sounds quite aggressive to most ears. Needless to say the members of the Klingon Language Institute find their favorite tongue quite appealing and, conversely, some people unfamiliar perhaps with the Avatar universe might question the beauty of Na'vi. As the saying goes, there is no accounting for taste.
Natural languages, though, also elicit all kinds of reactions. Obviously, they were not developed with an intention to sound ugly or beautiful. Yet, they are often perceived in those terms. We know that the alleged aesthetic virtues of a language are not necessarily connected with the language itself, but rather depend on personal feelings about the culture that these languages happen to represent. The Hebrew language, for instance, is often described as "beautiful" by deeply religious people, whereas more impartial observers might struggle to appreciate its supposed euphony or even distinguish its phonetic profile from that of other Middle Eastern tongues. Similarly, French has been consistently associated with glamour and sophistication and the loanwords that English has borrowed from French are a testament to that attitude. Is the phrase joie de vivre truly more complex that the analogous "joy of living" or "gioia della vita"? For equally arbitrary reasons we find a host of deep-seated stereotypes around other European languages. Thus we often hear that German is harsh, Italian is sweet and Russian is serious. And while those opinions might be innocuous, the associations that they entail are most certainly not.
An accent that is perceived to be unfriendly will be a liability at a job interview and one that is typically linked to a lack of sophistication will be uncommon at the reception of a five-star hotel. The traits of the speaker's alleged culture are magically transferred onto the pronunciation and intonation of the dialect that he or she speaks. And this happens to accents within a language and, of course, to accents that come from outside the English-speaking world. I know. It's not fair.
Regional and social accents
In the U. S. accents are, by and large, geographical. In the United Kingdom, though, things are a lot trickier. Accents can indeed be regional, but also social. And by that I mean that your consonants and vowels can be deemed to be working class, middle class, upper-middle class or insufferably posh. And if you think that I'm exaggerating, I'm afraid you are gravely mistaken. British politicians of patrician origins have been rumored to take elocution classes to soften their elitist accents in order to be more appealing to voters of less privileged backgrounds. I don't know how much of that is true. It is not an unreasonable notion. After all, an Oxbridge accent is far from relatable to the average waiter or mechanic. The crazy thing about it is that sometimes differences between accents may come down to individual sounds.
In Ian McEwan's novel What We Can Know (2025), the narrator of the second part says the following:
At last, the boy lifted his drooping and well-fingered companion closer to his chest. It was a green lizard with red spikes along its spine. "I'm waiting for my mummy." In that English way, I automatically registered the fully enunciated "t" and was already placing him in a social order, I disliked myself for it.
Think about it for a second. Just the pronunciation of one consonant can place you in a social hierarchy. Imagine what type of impact full sentences may have on a casual listener, let alone someone working for a recruiting firm.
Learners of English
To you, avid English learner, regional accents are probably not a major concern. Still, I believe that you should strive to achieve an accent that is, first and foremost, understandable and then (in so far as possible) close to some standard variety of the language, be it general General American, standard British English or, even some form of International English. Why? Because a speaker with a strong foreign accent will inevitably trigger unconscious ideas of unsophistication, not to mention the various prejudices that the culture in question entails. A native-like accent, on the other hand, brings about a priceless sense of at-homeness amongst competent speakers. Now... I'm not saying that there is anything wrong with having a foreign accent. I'll repeat that. There is nothing wrong with having a foreign accent. That said, we must acknowledge that not all accents are perceived equally and many of those reactions tend to be shaped by factors that are beyond your control. That much should be uncontroversial.
Also remember that two non-native speakers that use English as a lingua franca will have serious difficulty understanding each other if they don't try and find some common ground (i.e. some kind of standard pronunciation). Just imagine a Cambodian and an Italian having a conversation in English. If they stick to the phonological inventories of their respective mother tongues misunderstandings are bound to ensue. I still remember the case of a Spanish student of mine who was vacationing in Thailand with a group of friends. One day my student picked up the phone, called the front desk and requested two cars. As it happens, the group had decided to spend the day driving around the countryside. Minutes later a hotel employee showed up at the door holding a sugar pot. Two cars. Sugar.
Interestingly enough, the consequences of having a marked foreign accent can be quite unexpected. Actress Sofia Vergara, for example, speaks English with a strong Colombian accent that has served her well in Hollywood. Americans love it. They find it cute and sexy. Film director Wener Herzog, however, has a German accent that can sound unappealing or even intimidating. But that's not all. Sometimes identical accents can elicit strikingly disparate reactions. Thus, Slavoj Žižek, a well-known public intellectual who speaks with a pronounced Slovenian accent, comes off as likeable whereas Melania Trump, another Slovenian with a heavy accent, is generally perceived as unsophisticated despite the fact that she used to have a glamorous job and is now the first lady of the United States of America. I suppose that blunders such as her notorious mispronunciation of the word corps while addressing a group of marines at a military base haven't helped much.
It can be argued that, more often than not, it is the personalities of the individuals that determine how their respective accents are perceived. After all, Sofia Vergara is funny and sexy and Werner Herzog can have a menacing gaze. And, obviously, Slavoj Žižek is a philosopher who often displays cognitive resources that Melania Trump doesn't seem to possess. To all that, I would counter that prejudices die hard. Part of a person's reaction to a foreign speaker does indeed depend on their personal qualities, but there's a part of that first reaction that has little or nothing to do with the speaker's demeanor and a lot with how they say things. And if we are to believe that the first cut is the deepest, then we should consider the very first thing most people think about when they hear a random stranger speak with a thick foreign accent. Usually it's not the complexity of their grammar or the accuracy of their vocabulary, but rather the culture associated with that particular accent.
If you are still skeptical about all this I recommend that you watch the video below in which English actress Miriam Margolyes (of Harry Potter fame) explains why she sometimes chooses to speak with a Scottish accent. That says all you need to know about accent-related biases.
These days everyone seems to have an opinion about a surprisingly wide range of topics. I suppose that some version of this has always existed. But a couple of years ago came the game changer. The advent of digital platforms elevated individual thought to surreal heights as a result of which personal views now reach audiences in a way that was unthinkable before the digital revolution. These days we all get to see, hear and read opinions on all kinds of subject matters divulged by phony polymaths. In English there is a word for those individuals: ultracrepidarian, but it's a crying shame that virtually nobody knows the term. The ironic consequence of this state of affairs is that most of those who engage in dialogue don't seem to perceive the difference between idle chatter and a truly productive exchange.
Opinions
Indeed, the borders between meaningful conversation and small talk have been blurred to the point where many speakers simply can't tell them apart, but you don't need to be a specialist in epistemology to realize that many internet pundits that actually interview guests on their channels are dismally ignorant of the art of conversation and, therefore, ill-equipped to attempt a debate. Nevertheless, some of those individuals (usually self-styled influencers) keep posting, tweeting, podcasting and often talking to interesting thinkers in the delusional belief that their views are just as valid as those of bona fide experts. Some of them go so far as to join panel discussions and debates!
I understand that some public speakers give off a certain aura, a charisma (that most intangible of qualities), which, in the eyes of unenlightened observers, can make up for their lack of substance. However, when it comes to serious subjects, a person's good looks, sophisticated manners, personal style and the number of followers on Instagram become utterly irrelevant. We need more. After all, an opinion is not worth much if it is not backed up by facts.
Debates
And yet, countless videos depict interactions where speakers simply disagree. The titles of these clips often use the term 'destroy' (as in "[Name of Random Guy] Destroys [Name of Celebrity]"), implying that one debater has left the other speechless. In reality, these exchanges are frequently just a clash of views with no actual debating.
Contrary to some people's assumptions, debating does not consist in simply opposing an adversary's views for public entertainment. It is supposed to be a regulated discussion. For starters it requires factual information. That much should be obvious. Before someone forms an opinion about the rate of unemployment, for instance, they ought to know the actual rate of unemployment. The figure in question (11.5 % in Spain at the time of he writing this post) is objective, the debater's opinion, by definition, is not. Debating also demands that a participant be ready to concede a point, that is to say, to acknowledge the merit of someone else's views and contemplate the possibility of being wrong. So, if you are not prepared to be fact-checked or proven wrong, you should probably steer clear of debates and stick to casual banter and private conversations.
Conversations
Why? Because conversations are far easier. They don't need rules, timers or moderators. Like a debate, though, a good conversation does entail the use of some objective information and/or references that go beyond personal anecdote. Still, it is a flexible category. Two good conversationalists may well exchange experiences and points of view, but will ineluctably gravitate towards a discussion that, of necessity, involves arguments. And it's there that things get slightly hairy. Arguments are based on facts which, of course, are articulated by logic. Therefore a misinformed speaker with a feeble grasp on the basics of logic is, quite simply, not a good conversationalist.
What I'm trying to say is that verbal interaction based on personal views is fine for a quick coffee, but a real conversation is a little bit more demanding than that, and a debate is probably best left to the experts.
At any rate, whether you're just chatting to pass the time or striving for self-enlightenment, I think you should ensure that your arguments are always anchored in fact. Otherwise your words will not be worth much. Sadly, though, (and this is clearly my opinion) we live in a society in which a shocking number of people seem to disregard facts, which probably explains why the term post-truth was chosen as the Oxford Dictionary word of the year in 2016. To me that symbolic decision was, in itself, an indictment of the increasing irrelevance of facts in public discourse. These days, it is common for people to gloss over their own ignorance. When confronted with facts, they will typically deflect, trivialize objective data and elicit emotional responses from listeners who also run roughshod over reality. It's a lose-lose game.
On the opposite end of that spectrum we find Sam Harris, a well-spoken public figure who excels at crafting coherent thoughts and compelling arguments. He routinely uses complex syntax and precise vocabulary in an effortless way, which is a far cry from the proverbial word salads that fill the speeches of many self-appointed experts. That alone should be a good enough reason to listen to him. In the video below Sam Harris offers great material for any advanced English learner: an efficient analogy (tennis), interesting terms (diverge, intent, align, tap out) as well as a useful collocation (to pressure-test one's views). Not bad for a 60-second clip, right? Also, the point he makes is thought-provoking: if you're not prepared to find common ground or be proven wrong, you should not engage in any form of debate. Chit-chat is probably your trade.
