Some of the most talkative people I know are the worst communicators in the room.

I don’t say that with judgment (okay, maybe a little).

I’m in my sixties now—granddad, chronic walker of Lottie the dog, volunteer at the community tool library—and I’ve learned that communication isn’t measured in decibels or word count.

It’s measured in understanding.

A person can fill the air all afternoon and still leave you confused, tense, or tired.

I won’t pretend to have it all figured out, but the older I get, the more I notice the same patterns in folks who seem articulate yet routinely miss the mark.

If these signs show up—especially as a pattern—there’s a good chance you’re dealing with poor communication skills (and, if you’re brave, a few might be your own).

Here are ten tells—and what to try instead.

1) They talk to win, not to understand

You can hear it in the cadence: fast rebuttals, “actually” every third sentence, and a tone that treats conversation like sport.

The goal isn’t clarity; it’s points. When you share something vulnerable, they go straight to “devil’s advocate.” When you describe a problem, they sprint toward a verdict. You leave having been debated, not heard.

Why it’s a problem: Winning pushes listening off the table. People shut down or perform. Either way, truth goes underground.

Try this instead: Replace the first rebuttal with the first reflection: “So what I’m hearing is…” If they can’t reflect you back with reasonable accuracy, they’re not in conversation; they’re in court. For yourself, build a two-beat rule—two breaths between their last word and your first. Those breaths are where understanding sneaks in.

2) They answer with fog—no nouns, no verb, no when

Ask a simple question (“When can you send the estimate?”) and get mist (“Soon.” “I’ll try to get to it.” “Shouldn’t be too long.”).

It feels polite. It isn’t. Fog answers force the other person to do the calendar work, the boundary work, and the follow-up ping-pong.

Why it’s a problem: Vague creates accidental dishonesty. People hear what they want. Disappointment follows.

Try this instead: Trade fog for fences: give a concrete deliverable and time—“I’ll send a draft by Thursday 3 p.m.” If you’re on the receiving end, pin it gently: “Great—Thursday by three works. If that shifts, please tell me by noon.”

3) They interrupt to redirect the spotlight

You share a story about your rough morning; they jump in with a bigger rough morning—and now you’re the audience for their one-upmanship.

Or you’re halfway through an idea and they hijack the sentence because they’ve “got it.” They don’t. If they did, they’d let you land it.

Why it’s a problem: Chronic interruption teaches people their words aren’t safe. They’ll either talk louder (conflict) or stop sharing (distance).

Try this instead: If you’re the interrupter, keep a pen in hand and jot your thought so you don’t lose it—then let them finish. If you’re being interrupted, say, “Let me land this thought, then I’m all yours.” Calm, firm, repeat as needed.

4) They use hints, not handles

Passive-aggressive texts. “No worries” when they’re clearly stewing. Sighs that mean “I am worried, and you should be too.” Expecting others to decode mood swings is not communication—it’s charades with consequences.

Why it’s a problem: Hints create plausible deniability for the sender and confusion for the receiver. Resentment breeds in the middle.

Try this instead: Replace the hint with the handle—one sentence that can be picked up and worked with: “I felt dismissed in the meeting; can we reset?” or “I need help with dinner tonight.” If you get a hint, translate and test: “I’m hearing you’re frustrated about timelines—do I have that right?”

5) They escalate volume instead of adding structure

When misunderstood, they get louder, faster, more emphatic—as if the issue were decibels, not design. A messy story shouted is still a messy story. Meetings turn into rallies; family talks become weather systems.

Why it’s a problem: Volume triggers defensiveness. The brain hears threat, not meaning.

Try this instead: Add structure, not sound. Use a simple scaffold: Headline → Two examples → Ask a question. For instance: “I’m worried about scope creep. Two examples are the Tuesday request and Friday’s add-on. How do we protect the timeline?” Clear beats loud, every time.

6) They can’t summarize the other person’s view

A surprisingly reliable test: “Before we decide, can you summarize what you think I’m saying?”

Poor communicators either refuse (“I know what you said”) or butcher it (“You hate my idea”). Good communicators can mirror the gist, even if they disagree. It’s not capitulation—it’s comprehension.

Why it’s a problem: If you can’t say it, you didn’t hear it. Decisions made on misheard inputs create second fights.

Try this instead: Make paraphrase a ritual. “You want X because Y; you’re worried about Z. Did I miss anything?” The fastest way to lower the temperature in any room is to prove you can hold someone else’s paragraph.

7) They choose the wrong medium (and the wrong time)

Five-paragraph texts. Breakups over email. Heated topics launched at 11:58 p.m. or when the other person is walking out the door. Medium and timing are part of the message; misuse either and you sabotage yourself.

Why it’s a problem: The right content in the wrong container gets misread. Tired brains make bad interpretations.

Try this instead: Match medium to intensity. Logistics? Text. Nuance or emotion? Call or face-to-face. Conflict? In person, private, and not when anyone is hungry. Also develop a “parking lot”: if it’s 10 p.m., write a note and wait until morning. Most “urgent” midnight messages look different at 9 a.m.

8) They dodge repair and double down on being “right”

We all misspeak. We all step on toes. The skill that separates strong communicators from talkers is repair: “I’m sorry I rolled my eyes when you were explaining.

That was disrespectful. Here’s what I heard; did I get it?” Poor communicators skip repair and go straight to defense or counterattack.

Why it’s a problem: Without repair, little tears become big rips. People stop risking honesty.

Try this instead: Keep a 24-hour repair rule. If the air went sour, circle back within a day—even if it’s small. You’re proving the relationship matters more than your momentary pride. And when someone offers you repair, accept it without a lecture. That acceptance teaches more than a scolding ever will.

9) They confuse data with download—too much, too soon, no filter

There’s the friend who answers, “How are you?” with a 12-minute monologue that includes their childhood pet’s medical history.

Or the coworker who forwards every email “for transparency” until nobody can find anything. Over-sharing isn’t vulnerability; it’s clutter.

Why it’s a problem: People tune out. Important details drown in the flood.

Try this instead: Lead with the headline. Then ask, “Do you want the short version or the long version?” Let the listener set the depth. In writing, add a TL;DR. In speech, give the gist first, proof second. Communication is an act of hospitality—tidy the entryway before inviting people into the attic.

10) They convert disagreements into character judgments

“We disagree about the plan” becomes “You never listen.” “You forgot milk” becomes “You don’t care about this family.” When someone routinely leaps from event to essence, they’re not talking to you; they’re prosecuting you.

Why it’s a problem: Character attacks shut doors. People defend their identity, not the calendar item you were supposedly discussing.

Try this instead: Keep it behavioral and specific: “When the timeline changed without a heads-up, I felt blindsided. Next time, can you text me first?” You’re giving the other person a doable action instead of assigning them a permanent label.

Two small scenes that taught me more than any seminar

The screwdriver speech.

At the tool library, a young contractor asked for a “regular screwdriver.” I started to hand him a Phillips. He rolled his eyes and said, “I just need a screwdriver.” We smiled at each other for a beat—the kind that can turn north or south. I asked, “Flat-head or Phillips?” He paused, grinned, and said, “Flat-head. Old habit. Thanks.” A tiny moment, but a universal lesson: nouns matter. Naming precisely is the shortest distance between people.

The pharmacy line.

A new tech fumbled coupons while the line grew twitchy. The woman ahead of me said, “Take your time. We’re not going anywhere.” You could see the tech’s shoulders drop. The line moved at the exact same speed, but the mood changed because someone communicated safety with one sentence. I walked out with my refill and a reminder: pace-setting language (“We’ve got time”) is a superpower.

A quick self-inventory (no shame, just data)

• Do people often ask you to repeat yourself because your answer was vague?

• Do you interrupt, then justify it as “enthusiasm”?

• Can you summarize a partner’s position in a disagreement to their satisfaction?

• Do your messages sometimes arrive at the worst possible moment?

• Do minor conflicts routinely escalate into global statements about character?

• After conversations with you, do people look relieved or energized?

If you winced at a few, congratulations—you’re in the club called “human.” Communication isn’t a talent show; it’s a set of practices you can learn at any age.

A handful of repairs you can start today

• Use the H-E-A-R model: Headline → Example → Ask → Repair.

• Swap hints for handles: one clear sentence, one clear request.

• Paraphrase as a checkpoint: “What I’m hearing is…” (then ask, “Did I get it?”).

• Timebox tough talks: “Can we spend 15 minutes on this, then take a walk?”

• Right-size the medium: text for logistics, call for nuance, face-to-face for feelings.

• Build a shared glossary: with your team or partner, define slippery words (“soon,” “later,” “ready”) in calendar terms.

• Practice one sentence apologies: “I’m sorry for X. It landed as Y. Next time I’ll do Z.”

Final words

I’m the first to admit I don’t know everything, but I know this: talk is cheap; understanding is priceless.

The loudest person at the table isn’t necessarily the clearest.

If you want to spot poor communication skills—and avoid being that person yourself—look for the habits that create confusion, not the ones that create noise.

And if you catch yourself mid-interruption, or mid-hint, or mid-volume-boost? Smile, take two breaths, and try the repair in real time.

The best communicators aren’t the ones who never misspeak.

They’re the ones who notice sooner—and make it easier for everyone to keep talking.