Lew Alessio lives in Maine and holds a degree in theatre and speech education from St. John’s University in New York.

My name is Lew? I live in Maine? Confused? I hope so — just briefly.

We hear it on the radio. At lectures. In public meetings. Even in professional settings where the whole point is to be clearly understood. That momentary uncertainty, that sense that a speaker isn’t quite definite about what they’re saying, is something many listeners encounter every day.

There’s a name for what we’re hearing: upspeak — the habit of ending declarative sentences with a rising inflection once reserved for questions. It turns statements into something that sounds uncertain, as though the speaker were quietly asking: Ya get it? Are you with me on this? Do you approve?

Most people don’t notice. For others — myself included — it drives us quietly, and sometimes unquietly, to distraction. I find myself wondering whether the speaker is sure about what they are saying.

For those trained in speech or performance, the effect is familiar. Rising inflection tends to signal openness, inquiry or a desire for acceptance. A falling inflection signals the end of a sentence and a completed thought. This isn’t a matter of taste or opinion. It’s how we know when an idea is complete — and whether the speaker stands behind it.

To my ears, this pattern seems to be on the increase, with social media often cited as a cause, but the discussion is not new. In 1975, linguist Robin Lakoff, in “Language and Woman’s Place,” described rising intonation in declarative sentences as “powerless speech” — language shaped not so much by uncertainty than by social pressure to appear less assertive. Her point was descriptive, not accusatory: such patterns leave conclusions hanging.

Essayist Christopher Hitchens was less gentle, claiming that the habit makes statements sound like requests for approval rather than declarations of fact. Cultural critic Camille Paglia criticized what she sees as verbal self-minimization in educated public speech.

To be fair, not everyone agrees. Sociolinguist Deborah Tannen has argued that rising intonation can serve conversational purposes — friendliness or signaling engagement. Defenders of upspeak say it communicates openness, humanness and inclusivity. But even Tannen acknowledges that listeners often hear uncertainty anyway, particularly in broadcast settings. “Authority, like meaning,” she observes, “is not what a speaker intends; it is what a listener receives.”

And that gap between intention and reception is where the contradiction lives. For a speaker in a position of authority, the habit can quietly undermine the very authority they hope to project. Especially on the radio, absent gesture and facial expression, sound does nearly all the work. Imagine a Maine meteorologist reporting, “Tomorrow, we’ll be getting 10 inches of snow?” Is that a forecast — or a suggestion?

Upspeak, however, isn’t evenly distributed. It appears more often in women’s speech — not because women lack confidence, but because many have been socialized to avoid sounding too certain, too final, too authoritative. The irony is that a habit meant to sound cooperative can register as hesitation, particularly in public settings where clarity and confidence matter.

Some might ask, “So what? Language is constantly changing.” Surely true — the more
intriguing as it does. But clarity, certainty and a well-placed full stop serve the speaker’s
intent and the listener’s understanding, even today.

My name is Lew. I live in Maine. No question about it.