Spoken word is a deceptively tricky tool to express argument and thought within.

Writing, in many senses, is easy. You control the pace at which you type, and can continually return to refine what you like and don’t like. Writing allows for a raw outpouring of ideas, which can then be shaped, reorganized, and distilled to reflect your intended point.

Conversational speech is much more challenging, as there is simply so much more happening.

When speaking aloud you almost never know the exact words that will come out of your mouth before they do. You are conversing with someone, who is simultaneously engaging in their own subjective internal process and changing the playing field as they do so.

You’re not just structuring words, sentences, and ideas—you’re also filtering yourself, ensuring you adhere to social and conversational norms. You’re evaluating the listener’s reactions in real time, adjusting your tone and phrasing accordingly. Ideas slip away as quickly as they arrive, leaving you chasing after them while simultaneously juggling the next thought.

In casual conversations – making small talk, expressing yourself with those you love, or planning where you’ll eat that evening – most people settle into a well-oiled conversational cockpit, effortlessly using autopilot to navigate the exchange.

But in serious conversation – those that require exploring conceptual thought and belief systems – the autopilot does not arise so easily. For some it does, and this is an extraordinary talent. The art of oratory is no longer taught as it was in Ancient Greece, but still there exist countless debaters and thinkers who can reason and communicate fluently in real time.

I imagine that is not a skill many maintain without sufficient practice. I learned this recently, when making my first podcast appearance.

Lindsey Frances hosts a podcast titled “Rich Simple Human,” where she explores consciousness, self-improvement, well-being and myriad other topics with her guests. She’s also a practitioner of sophrology, a kind of dynamic relaxation method that uses a series of mental and physical exercises.

We have met only a couple of times – the first was just hours after I’d finished a four-day solo silent retreat – but each encounter had facilitated richly explorative conversation. When she invited me, after our last conversation, to appear on her podcast, I could not say no. What an honour, what a novel experience, what a fun side-quest!

We’d previously discussed Effective Altruism and motivations around giving, which she suggested form the basis for the podcast. Recorded remotely, it was a resoundingly positive experience.

On a subjective level, the experience of recording itself was a delight. The conversation flowed well. Lindsey was patient and engaged, and steered us in many interesting directions. She asked questions I hadn’t considered before, allowing me to tumble between ideas, while she skilfully threaded them back together. We explored meditation, creativity, hiking, generosity, empathy, money, and motivation – all topics that I like to think about.

The funny part came when listening to the recording afterward. To be fair and to be honest, it was not an unpleasant experience. Impartially, I’d say I expressed some ideas I love with reasonable confidence and fluency, giving them somewhat their due. I also liked feeling the energy of the conversation. And I couldn’t help but laugh at myself often – with kindness and compassion – at how I talk and argue and think. Such a silly man.

But when listening to yourself express ideas you’ve heard expressed (better) many times before, you can’t help but feel that it could be better. I found myself wanting to finish my own sentences, provide further argumentation and evidence, and complete trains of thought that I occasionally left unfinished.

I’d highly recommend checking out Lindsey’s work over on her website. And if you’d like to listen to our episode together, you can find it over on Spotify, or any alternative podcasting platform.

In saying yes to the podcast, I learnt a few interesting things. I gained a newfound respect for the many people I have heard speak on podcasts, as well as the hosts who facilitate these conversations. I understand why, now, people often go on podcasts after they’ve written a book. Only when you have been soaking yourself in the ideas you are discussing, can you really articulate at a moment’s breath the fine-tuned arguments you are trying to get across.

I also have a newfound gratitude that I communicate my thoughts ordinarily in writing. Until recording the podcast, I had not realised how different one’s writing voice is from one’s speaking voice. Such differences in tone, intention, and honestly, intelligence.

What a forgiving medium writing is. Thank goodness there are people who can podcast (a group that unquestionably includes Lindsey) because I really do think it is a special format for communicating ideas. But thank goodness too for the written word.

Here’s to side-quests, here’s to interesting conversations, and here’s to communicating thought, regardless of the medium.