But: The One Word That Changed How I Communicate

Twenty-five years ago, I entered a three-year transformational mind dynamics program that changed my life.

At its core, the program was about learning how the brain works, how much of our behavior and communication happens unconsciously, and how to wake up the conscious mind so we can become more deliberate in the way we think, speak, listen, and respond to others.

It was also about something deeply important to me: learning how to communicate in a way that creates more joy, more understanding, more connection, and less unnecessary conflict.

I learned that words are never insignificant.

The words we choose shape how another person receives us. They can create trust or defensiveness. Clarity or confusion. Connection or distance. They can open someone's mind or shut it down.

And so much of the time, we are speaking without really listening to ourselves.

One of the most powerful lessons I took from those three years was deceptively simple:

I was taught to eliminate five words from my vocabulary.

All five changed the way I communicate.

One changed me more than any other.

But.

The Word That Changed Everything for Me

I was taught 25 years ago that the word but negates what comes before it.

That lesson has stayed with me ever since.

After decades of paying attention to communication, in leadership, business, hiring, relationships, interviews, friendships, and everyday life, I have seen the impact of this one word over and over again.

Consider these sentences:

• "I really liked your presentation, but..."
• "You're doing a great job, but..."
• "I trust you, but..."
• "I agree with you, but..."
• "I love you, but..."

What happens when you hear those words?

Do you remain focused on the compliment? The trust? The agreement? The love?

Or does your mind immediately move toward what comes next?

That is the power of but.

What Does the Word Actually Do to Communication?

There is legitimate linguistic research behind the idea that but is far more than a simple connecting word.

Linguists describe it as a contrastive discourse marker. Its presence signals a contrast, opposition, concession, or shift between one thought and the next. Discourse markers help listeners understand how ideas relate to one another and influence how a message is interpreted.

Research has repeatedly associated but with contrast relations in language. Linguistic scholarship also distinguishes between the literal truth of a statement and its pragmatic meaning, the meaning a listener takes from how a thought is framed and delivered.

In everyday terms, the word sends a signal:

Technically, the first statement may remain true.

Emotionally, it can feel diminished, qualified, contradicted, or taken back.

That distinction matters.

When someone says, "I really liked your presentation, but the third section wasn't strong enough," the speaker may genuinely believe both things.

The listener may hear something entirely different:

You didn't really like my presentation. What you really wanted to tell me was what was wrong with it.

And very often, what comes after but becomes the part carrying the real emotional weight.

That is exactly what I was trained to notice.

End the Sentence. Then Let It Land.

The practice I was taught was incredibly simple: end the sentence, start another one.

Instead of saying:

"I really liked your presentation, but I think the third section could be stronger."

Say:

"I really liked your presentation. I think the third section could be stronger."

That is already better.

And sometimes, it is not enough.

Because communication is not only about removing one word. It is also about whether you actually give the first thought enough room to be heard.

Imagine hearing this: "I really liked your presentation. I think the third section could be stronger." No pause. No change in tone. No space between the two thoughts.

The listener may still experience the compliment as little more than a runway to criticism.

So I have learned to do something else.

End the sentence. Pause. Let the person receive it. Maybe stay with the compliment for another sentence or two.

"I really liked your presentation. You were incredibly clear, and I thought the way you handled the audience questions was excellent."

Pause.

Let that be true. Let the person feel it.

Then, separately:

"I do have one question about the third section. I wonder whether there is an opportunity to make that part even stronger."

Now the compliment is not a setup. It is not something you rush through on the way to what you really wanted to say.

It gets to stand on its own.

The feedback gets to stand on its own too.

And the person receiving both messages no longer has to determine which statement you really meant.

This is especially important in leadership.

People know when praise is being used as a technique. They can feel when a compliment exists merely to soften the criticism coming next. That kind of communication can reduce trust rather than build it.

A sincere compliment deserves space. Say it. Be specific. Pause. Let the person take it in.

Then decide whether the next piece of feedback even needs to happen in the same moment. Sometimes it does. Sometimes it does not. That is part of conscious communication too.

The goal is not to create an artificial formula where every difficult message is wrapped in praise. The goal is to say what you genuinely mean and give each thought enough space to be received honestly.

For me, this has been one of the most powerful communication practices of my life.

It sounds simple. It is not.

Removing one word can change a sentence. Creating space can change the entire emotional experience of a conversation.

Retraining the Brain Happens in the Moment

One of the most important things I was taught in transformational mind dynamics was that awareness alone is not enough.

The brain develops patterns. We speak automatically. We reach for familiar words without conscious thought. We respond before the conscious mind has fully entered the conversation.

Research on habit formation supports the broader principle that repeated behaviors can become increasingly automatic, requiring less conscious consideration over time. The brain also remains capable of changing through learning, experience, and repeated practice.

The way I was trained to change my communication patterns was to correct myself in the moment.

Not later that night. Not the next day. In the moment.

And I still do this today. Every once in a while, I hear myself use one of those five words, and I stop.

I say: "Let me restate that."

Then I say it again in a more conscious way.

That matters to me because the goal was never perfection. The goal was to retrain the brain.

And retraining the brain requires interruption. You have to catch the automatic pattern while it is happening and choose again. That is how a different communication habit begins to take hold.

Even after 25 years, I still correct myself. I do not see that as failure. I see it as the practice.

There is something else I have come to believe strongly: correcting yourself out loud can build trust.

It shows the other person that you are paying attention to your own impact. It shows that you are not so attached to your first words that you cannot take responsibility for them. It shows that conscious communication matters enough to you to stop, reset, and begin again.

For me, that has been one of the most lasting lessons of the entire experience.

We do not retrain the brain by simply knowing better. We retrain it by interrupting the old pattern and choosing again.

Listen for It for One Day

Pay attention to but for one day.

Listen during meetings. Listen during interviews. Listen to leaders giving feedback. Listen to friends. Listen to family.

Most importantly, listen to yourself.

Notice what is said before the word. Notice what is said after it. Notice whether there is space between the two thoughts.

Then ask yourself: which part of that sentence carried the real message?

And perhaps an even more important question: did I give the first thought enough space to be genuinely received?

Twenty-five years later, I still ask myself those questions.

Communication Skills: What Are We Actually Looking For?

For more than 25 years, I have worked in cybersecurity talent, workforce strategy, leadership, and human capability.

One of the most common requirements companies ask for when hiring is: excellent communication skills.

I have always found that interesting. What exactly does that mean? How do we identify excellent communication skills in an interview? How do we measure them?

It is the same problem we run into everywhere else in workforce decisions. A phrase everyone recognizes stands in for work nobody has actually defined. That is why the capabilities Workforce Intelligence measures start with the work itself, not the language wrapped around it.

One of the things I listen for is words.

Does someone answer directly? Do their words create clarity or ambiguity? Do they create commitment or an escape route? Do they give others room to think? Do they make someone feel small for asking a question? Do they unconsciously take back their own positive statements? Do they listen closely enough to hear what another person is truly saying?

Communication skill is not simply the ability to speak confidently.

It is the ability to create understanding. It is the ability to listen. It is the ability to recognize the impact of your own language. It is the ability to communicate consciously enough that your words create the outcome you intend.

And it is the humility to remain a student of your own communication for your entire life.

I still am.

Words Start Wars and End Wars

Years ago, I gave a keynote at Hacker Halted called: Words Start Wars and End Wars.

I believed it then. I believe it even more now.

Words build trust. Words destroy it. Words create clarity and confusion. They make someone feel safe enough to speak or afraid enough to stay silent. They reveal commitment, avoidance, empathy, judgment, honesty, fear, care, and indifference.

Most of the time, we use them without conscious thought.

My invitation is not perfection. My invitation is awareness.

Listen to yourself. Listen to the words you use when you are not paying attention.

When you catch yourself, stop. Say: "Let me restate that." And choose again.

Become a novice again at communication. Approach your own language with curiosity rather than judgment. Ask yourself whether the words you choose create the outcome you actually want.

Because words matter. They always have.

They can start wars. And they can end them.

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This is the first in a series about the five words I was taught to remove from my vocabulary 25 years ago, and what they have taught me about communication, leadership, accountability, empathy, and human connection.