View from the Street: The West Wing Problem – Why talking quickly doesn’t make you sound smart
Published
Frank O’Donnell
Films like A Few Good Men and TV shows like The West Wing and Mad Men made fast talk look effortless, a caffeine-fuelled blur of ideas and authority. But away from the cameras, speed often signals nerves, not genius. Frank O’Donnell on why slowing down can make you sound sharper, not duller.
If you’ve never watched The West Wing, I feel a little sorry for you. It’s (one of) the greatest television series ever made. Across seven seasons of White House drama, Aaron Sorkin’s presidential staffers don’t just talk. They walk and talk. And do both very fast.
Their words tumble over each other in a blur of intellect and conviction. The camera tracks them down corridors in those signature walk-and-talks, the dialogue snapping like gunfire. The result is television’s purest expression of intelligence through velocity.
The show didn’t just make politics look impossibly optimistic; it coupled speed with smartness. For years, many of us drank this in and thought sounding clever meant talking quickly.
Of course, some people really can do both, the rare few whose words keep pace both with their thoughts and their audience’s comprehension. But for most of us, the faster we speak, the less we are heard.
Without background music or clever editing, racing through your point doesn’t impress people; it overwhelms them. It feels rushed. Sometimes it sounds nervous. Listeners stop hearing confidence and start sensing tension.
Most people who speak too quickly aren’t showing off, they’re trying to survive. To accelerate through a danger zone. When we are under pressure, our heart rate rises, our breathing quickens, and our mouths follow suit. It’s a modern version of the fight-or-flight response: get through this quickly and you’ll be safe.
Workplace culture often reinforces it. The people who jump in first, answer fastest, or talk longest are rewarded. We learn to equate speed with competence and silence with uncertainty. We rush to prove we’re on top of things. Ironically, the faster we speak, the less in control we sound.
And then there’s the fear of interruption. In boardrooms and broadcast studios, everyone wants airtime. If you leave too long a pause, someone will happily fill it. That’s real, and it makes people defensive.
Sometimes, that instinct runs even deeper. If you grew up in a large, loud or lively family, interruptions may have been routine, and being heard meant fighting for space. Those habits stick. Many of us still speak quickly not to show off, but simply to make sure we get our point across before someone else jumps in.
At Charlotte Street Partners, we help people have greater impact, whether around the boardroom table, in media interviews, parliamentary committees or town hall meetings. The most common issue we encounter is people speaking too quickly.
You can hold the floor without filling every moment of silence, however. Use eye contact, a small hand gesture to signal that you haven’t finished, or even say “Let me just finish that thought…” before moving on. Labelling your thoughts also works, “I have two points to make here…”. Control comes from confidence, not Josh Lymanesque pace.
There is also a curious paradox with verbal and written communication. When we write, we tend to take great care. We plan, we draft, we revise, we check tone and meaning. We ask colleagues or editors to review our work before it goes out. But when we speak, the words just tumble out. Little advance thought, no real editing. Filler words start, um, like, basically popping up. And yet our spoken communication shapes how we’re judged far more than our written work ever will.
It’s a curious imbalance. We polish an email for ten minutes but deliver an off-the-cuff update to a client or colleague without a second thought. The stakes are often higher when we speak, but the preparation is almost always lower.
That’s why thinking about pace, pauses, hand gestures and phrasing isn’t fussy or theatrical. It’s a form of respect for your message, and for your audience.
When it comes to pace, the speed that feels comfortable to you often sounds hurried to everyone else. And the pace that feels uncomfortably slow to you, feels measured to them. Our internal clocks accelerate under stress. So, the next time you speak in public or on camera:
- Take several slow, deep breaths before you begin. It calms your nerves and slows your rhythm.
- Keep your sentences short. Each one carries its own idea.
- If you struggle with formulating points, use structures like Problem > Impact > Solution
- Pause for effect. A moment of silence makes the next line land with more impact.
- Hold your ground. If someone looks ready to jump in, keep your posture open and your eye contact steady.
- Record yourself first. Use an app like Orai to measure words per minute. You’ll realise how fast you really sound.
When you slow down, your tone deepens, you hesitate less, and your words start to sound deliberate. The result is that people lean in rather than tune out.
Television taught us that smart people talk fast. On screen, speed looked like genius. Off screen, intelligence sounds like being heard.