Accents

Accents

Nowadays people recommend speaking in the same accent you were brought up to speak, whatever that may be, in the interests of linguistic diversity. I disagree. I myself first spoke in a Geordie accent, because I was born in Newcastle; my parents spoke Geordie their whole life. My family moved to Gillingham Kent when I was three and I spoke in that accent until I went to school at age five, and presumably for some time after. In due course I learned to speak in the Kent accent (the one Mick Jagger speaks). Should I have clung to Geordie even if no one could understand me and found me weird? Of course not. Then we moved again when I was twelve, this time to Blackpool in Lancashire. The kids called me a Cockney because of my southern accent. In time elements of the Lancashire accent crept in, though never very broad. I went to university at age eighteen and reverted to my Kentish accent because that was more common (and my then wife was from Kent). By the time I went to Oxford I was speaking in cleaned-up Kentish. There was nothing “inauthentic” about any of this; it was natural and necessary. What was my authentic accent—Geordie? I can’t even speak Geordie anymore, except for a smattering.

Living in Miami people often ask me where I am from and say they love my English accent. I tell them it is not my English accent they love, because many English accents are quite unlovable (Liverpool, Birmingham, Manchester). What they love is my accent, but what accent is that? It has no name and no region. I invented it, several times. I consciously speak a certain way, like a trained actor. And it isn’t the sounds my mouth makes as I speak; it’s my clean vowels, intonation, clarity, and pauses. I speak so as to be understood and (yes) admired. I speak intelligently. I don’t speak harshly or carelessly or too rapidly. I choose my words and try to be amusing. I do this a lot with nurses. So, my point is this: do not speak as you were brought up to speak, but teach yourself to speak better—more clearly, intelligently, pleasantly. Speech is a performance, so perform it well. Let it convey who you uniquely are, not just what region you are from. Space out your words appropriately, so that the hearer has time to absorb what you just said. If you have a strong foreign accent, get rid of it, don’t feel proud of it (especially when talking on the phone). Vary your accent depending on who you are talking to. It would have been useless for me to speak in my first accent my whole life, as a philosophy professor, living in America. Work on your accent; if necessary, obliterate it. I don’t think it’s a good idea to retain your South African accent while living and working in America—you will not be understood. Moderate your Australian accent when you see your listener struggling, as he or she will. Your accent should be a work of art not just something you found lying about; so work on, refine it, perfect it. No one thinks you should preserve the manners of whatever surrounded you as a child, or the dress sense, or the subject matter of your speech; so, don’t stick to the accent you wore born into. You may get diversity that way, but you won’t get admiration and applause. Try to speak better than other people. Diversity is just another name for conformity and laziness. I recommend Alec Guinness or at least Peter Sellars as role model. It’s good to have a nice voice.