This essay examines the concept of "standard English" — who defines it, who enforces it, and why those definitions matter. Drawing on scholarship by John G. Fought and Cecelia Cutler, the paper explores the tension between prescriptivist rule-makers and descriptivist linguists, and considers how language functions as a social signal. The essay also investigates the phenomenon of linguistic "crossing over," in which speakers adopt features of another dialect or variety to signal cultural identification or social distance. Ultimately, the paper argues that every act of speech communicates far more than literal content, reflecting the speaker's background, identity, and aspirations.
The paper effectively employs an extended analogy — comparing language register to clothing — to make the abstract concept of code-switching intuitive and memorable. This technique bridges scholarly vocabulary and everyday experience, a useful strategy for undergraduate writing that must communicate complex ideas accessibly.
The essay opens with provocative questions about linguistic norms, then introduces the scholarly concept of gatekeeping (Fought) before broadening into social identity and dialect crossing (Cutler). It closes with a reflective conclusion urging readers toward greater self-awareness in speech. The movement from rule-based concerns to social and cultural implications gives the argument a clear progressive arc, from definition to consequence.
College students are routinely advised to write their papers in "standard academic English." When putting together a résumé or drafting a formal letter, we are expected to use "standard English" as well. In formal daily speech, parents and mentors have at some point encouraged us to use "proper" English in order to reflect well on ourselves, our education, and our background. But what, exactly, is "standard" English? Who gets to decide? Must it be grammatically perfect? Are long, multi-syllabic words more effective than short, simple ones?
Is there a standardized language we are supposed to use in certain formal situations, and if so, what is it, and how do we learn it? Some English textbooks and teachers advise students to avoid ending a sentence with a preposition, on the grounds that doing so signals poor grammatical command. However, asking "With whom should I ride to the game?" sounds both stodgy and forced — likely to provoke laughter and mark the speaker as odd or pedantic. Rephrasing it as "Who am I riding with?" sounds far more natural, if slightly less formal. But is it wrong?
Questions like these point to a deeper tension in the way English speakers think about correctness. Prescriptive approaches to language insist that certain forms are inherently right or wrong, while everyday practice constantly pushes back against those standards.
The scholar John G. Fought describes the process of deciding what is right and wrong in language as gatekeeping: "Gatekeepers want to keep insiders in and (perhaps even more important) outsiders out by opening and closing a real or imaginary gate," he writes. Who are these gatekeepers? They hold no official titles and are subject to no clear requirements, though they may possess academic or professional credentials that lend them a degree of authority.
Fought goes on to discuss a specific variety: the language gatekeeper, whose role is to issue rules about what is "right" and what is "wrong" in our language. The more technical term for these rule-makers is "prescriptivist," according to Fought and others, including David Crystal. Prescriptivists tend to be most vocal about what speakers should not do, identifying terms and usages they consider substandard or unacceptable.
This stands in contrast to descriptivists, who occupy the other end of the spectrum. Fought describes descriptivists as individuals who study and seek to understand language in all its variety — examining how and why we communicate, and what our word choices reveal about ourselves and society. Sociolinguistics as a discipline largely aligns with this descriptivist tradition, treating language variation as data rather than error.
Even with these frameworks in hand, considerable confusion remains about the "rules" of language. We generally recognize that there are occasions calling for formal, grammatically careful English, while there are other situations in which strict formality would be awkward or inappropriate. We are expected to dress differently for different occasions; it follows logically, then, that we might also "dress up" or "dress down" our language.
When we are in stiff, formal clothing, the outfit itself reminds us of the behavioral expectations attached to it. Conversely, at home among family and close friends, we face no such rigid expectations. We dress comfortably and informally, and our language reflects that comfort. Among people who know and love us, we will not be judged for speaking in sentence fragments or run-ons. The social and emotional context grants us permission to set the rules aside.
You’re 59% through this paper. Sign up to read the remaining 2 sections.
Sign Up Now — Instant Access Already a member? Log inAlways verify citation format against your institution’s current style guide requirements.