"She kind of moved to the West Coast..."

Stephen Kurutz has seen into my soul, kind of. This is particularly pertinent to generalist librarians, since each day brings hundreds of reference questions. There is no way to prepare, and with teenagers you don't want to be caught off guard. A basic knowledge of a subject gives you a gateway and an opening for further discussion. However, there's a benefit to vagueness and it allows you to start a search at the beginning, assuming no knowledge of a subject. Frequency illusion or not, I'm noticing this in my speech pattern every day and working to limit it to times of metaphor, not times when I am hedging my certainty on a subject.
 

The "Kind of, Sort Of" Era

http://www.nytimes.com/2014/11/02/opinion/sunday/the-kind-of-sort-of-era.html?module=Search&mabReward=relbias%3Ar&_r=0

I’VE sort of noticed something about the way we speak, and I wonder if you’ve sort of noticed it, too. Let me kind of explain. It’s about sort of, and its twin, kind of, and how these adverbial downtoners, as the British grammarian Sir Randolph Quirk calls them, have totally, completely, 100 percent taken over casual speech.

Kinda, sorta.

I’m not referring to their use to describe a class of something, such as a sort of mammal, but rather as hedge words, to lessen a statement’s force or meaning. For instance, here’s the University of Cambridge ecologist Peter Walsh speaking recently about Ebola: “What’s nasty about it is it sort of melts your blood vessels.”

And here’s Edward J. Snowden describing his background to Brian Williams of NBC: “I was trained as a spy in sort of the traditional sense of the word.”

And here’s the comedian Amy Poehler explaining how she and Tina Fey divvy up laugh lines: “It kind of figures itself out. We just have to kind of be democratic about it.”

It’s possible I’m experiencing what linguists call the frequency illusion — my brain is primed to recognize the phrases, so I’m hearing them all the time. Or maybe I’ve stumbled into another linguistic pitfall, the recency illusion, thinking that a word or phrase is recent when it has actually existed for a long time. In 1995, William Safire noted in The New York Times Magazine the widespread use of kinda-sorta in the courtroom of the O. J. Simpson trial. And as far back as 1909, the language stickler Ambrose Bierce complained that “Kind of followed by an adjective, as ‘kind of good,’ is almost too gross for censure.”

It may be too gross for censure, but “kind of” and “sort of” have shown staying power over the decades. If you put “sort of” into Google’s Ngram viewer, a database of millions of digitized books, you find steady usage levels through the 1980s and ’90s, and a small uptick starting in 2000. And that’s only written language, not informal speech. For anecdotal proof, listen to NPR for a few hours (though not conservative talk radio, where certainty is more the rule of law).

Gabriel Doyle, who has a Ph.D. in linguistics and writes the blog Motivated Grammar, told me that “sort of”’ is a “de-precision device.” As Dr. Doyle put it: “The speaker is saying, ‘Don’t think of this as being overly accurate.’ ”

In other words, people throw “sort of” into their speech because they’re unsure. Our language is reflecting modern life.

We sort of have stable jobs until our company outsources or downsizes. We can sort of count on Social Security in retirement. We’re sort of done fighting a war in Iraq. It’s my nonscientific theory that “sort of” is, in part, a linguistic manifestation of the indefiniteness we feel, a noncommittal expression for a time of rapid technological change and instability across our social structures.

During our phone conversation, Dr. Doyle peppered his sentences with a lot of “sort ofs,” as in: “My approach on these things is sort of, what are the sort of factors that encourage people to use this?” He was conscious of doing so, and said his “sort of” rate increased when presenting new ideas or speaking to large crowds — say, at a conference.

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“You don’t want to be overly confident in these high-stakes arenas,” he said.

In this sense, “sort of” addresses another modern concern, because not a week goes by that someone isn’t publicly embarrassed or shamed over ill-considered words they tweeted or were caught saying on video. Daily conversation has become a high-stakes arena, for celebrities as well as normal citizens.

The awareness that offhand utterances can live forever online and have serious consequences has made for overly cautious speech. So we hear the “Meet the Press” host Chuck Todd say to a reporter that he “sort of laughed” after reading an article on Benghazi in a conservative newspaper. Or Joe Neumaier, a writer for The New York Daily News, who as a film critic is paid to offer sharp opinions about Hollywood, assert about Robin Williams that “you sort of don’t think of him as a sort of character actor.”

Using “sort of” to reduce the risk of making an error or causing offense is a tactic an editor friend calls “strategic softening.” (Note to Alec Baldwin: insert “sort of” in your next tirade and you won’t have to make a public apology.)

As much as it can create rhetorical wiggle room and be a tool for nuanced thinking about a complex world, the “fuzzy kinda-sorta,” as Mr. Safire called it back in 1995, can also make for wishy-washy and obsequious speech that lacks clarity, confidence and authority. Especially when used frequently and to qualify banal utterances and basic facts.

The other day I was listening to NPR and heard Nicolas Retsinas, a Harvard Business School professor, mention that his daughter had “kind of moved back to the East Coast” from Alaska.

I doubt Mr. Retsinas was aware of saying “kind of.” It’s become a verbal tic, a filler phrase. I’ve deployed both “sort of” and “kind of” myself, many times. In this very newspaper, I once described the view from a Detroit rooftop as possessing “a sort of grandeur.” Strunk and White would not approve.

Sometimes I think of epic declarative statements, and wonder how they might be rendered in today’s hedge-speak. “It was sort of the best of times, it was sort of the worst of times.” “I came, I saw, I kind of conquered.” “I sort of have a dream.”

Sound kind of weak? Definitely.

Steven Kurutz is a reporter for the Home section of The New York Times.