For enthusiasts of dating reality television, the advent of warmer weather signifies one thing: , undoubtedly one of Britain’s most notable cultural exports, has returned. (While spin-offs exist, including versions in Australia and the , the UK series remains the foundational model.) Its concept is straightforward: a group of appealing, sun-kissed young individuals congregates at a “villa” in a very warm location (typically Spain or South Africa) and attempts to pair up for romance—as well as financial gain and social media notoriety. At its core, the show functions as a game, with the destiny of each couple ultimately resting in the hands of the audience, who decide which pairings advance to the conclusion. Enduring an entire season demands resilience and dedication from both viewers and participants. However, should you embark on this journey, your persistence will be handsomely rewarded.
Admittedly, one of the more subtle delights of the program is its frequent dullness. Yet, if you persevere and watch every episode, what unfolds is an extraordinary chronicle of how individuals strive (and often fail) to form bonds, almost in real time. These connections are supremely important because money and celebrity (and occasionally, yes, affection) are at stake, and they must also be forged within a very condensed timeframe. This implies that the couples are either absolutely certain of their feelings or entirely unsure. And because these young participants are eager, prone to drama, and above all, youthful, a word they utter constantly is “like.”
None of this is particularly surprising. is a term primarily associated with youth and one that many people dismiss as superfluous—a verbal filler intended to be excised from one’s speech, in adherence to an obsolete standard of proper articulation. It’s truly illogical—to be preoccupied with such a minor detail when far graver global issues exist. Perhaps it’s also a considerable waste of time. Nevertheless, observing closely when we hear “like” proves to be a beneficial exercise. Listen, and you will arrive at a compelling conclusion: “like” is a valuable instrument that we all possess (and should utilize) to establish and maintain rapport.
“Like” is frequently employed to alleviate the communicative burden and to grant oneself a small pause to articulate what one truly intends to express. In emotionally charged scenarios where matters of the heart are concerned, “like” provides the mental space to gather one’s thoughts. This is a subtle calculation, so minute that it feels imperceptible and likely occurs without conscious effort.
If you view Love Island with subtitles enabled, this point becomes strikingly apparent—each “like” that peppers a casual conversation between two individuals serves to bolster tentative attempts at openness. Consider the aftermath of a dramatic recoupling, where certain established duos are separated and paired with new partners. Once the tears subside, the newly formed couples confront the challenging task of familiarizing themselves with one another. These conversations progress intermittently, and the interval between thoughts is typically bridged by “like.” It’s a word that literally affords you time—just a second or two—in a manner far more agreeable than the alternative: silence. “Like” conveys care in a way that quietude never could. You are allowing yourself a moment to collect your thoughts while simultaneously signaling this to the other person, all without articulating much at all. You are also extending the same courtesy to them.
There is a gendered rationale behind our aversion to this word. The common saying about “like” is that it is the that we initially utter it, which carries negative connotations because these individuals are often stereotyped as “unintelligent teenage girls.” However, this is an antiquated viewpoint. Adolescent girls and women are and have spoken more than most people for generations. Millennials who were old enough to see in cinemas are now gracefully entering middle age. They have ascended the professional ranks sufficiently to achieve positions of influence. They grew up casually using “like,” so one presumes it is an integral part of their vocabulary, both domestically and professionally. If your manager states, “Could you send me that item I requested, like, sometime next week?” and nothing seems amiss, that observation is noteworthy. “Like” is not improper or unprofessional; it is simply a linguistic habit that differs slightly from past norms.
What critics of “like” are genuinely troubled by, at some level, is women, and specifically, the notion that their natural mode of expression is inferior and should be treated as such. We understand that this is incorrect. Yet, women’s speech has traditionally been characterized as weak and men’s as strong, as linguistics professor Robin Lakoff elucidates in Language and Women’s Place. The implication here is that women’s speech is categorized as weak, and men’s, the direct opposite.
But if we begin to perceive the word as an asset rather than a disadvantage, its true potential starts to emerge. When we revisit the romantically entangled individuals in Love Island’s villa, it becomes evident that both men and women engage in empathetic communication regarding their emotions, not only with members of the opposite sex but also with each other. And while Love Island is ostensibly a program about romance, it truly explores all forms of connection—love, certainly, but what they ultimately achieve is friendship. And “like” enables them to forge the bonds that lead to it, one conversation at a time.
It’s a valuable insight we could all adopt, in both significant and minor ways—that the adaptability of the English language is inherently linked to how we connect. Indeed, if we all cease to fear “like,” we might be astonished by the outcomes.