My Own Theory of Stuttering

I don't know about other stutterers but when I forget about my stutter, I don't stutter. So it's got me wondering:

What if a person's attempts to not stutter are sufficient enough to interrupt the flow of speech?

Speaking is a very complex process. As I understand it, if one muscle or neuron takes a fraction of a second longer than it should, the flow of speech is thrown off. In addition, talking is supposed to be an automatic process—think a thought, decide to share it, open mouth, let words just flow out.

So it would seem to me that inserting the thoughts "will I stutter? won't I stutter?" or even thinking about how the words come out or how to form them, essentially inserts a step that shouldn't be there and could also interrupt the flow of speech.

My guess is that whatever caused a person to stutter in the first place in most, perhaps not all, cases corrects itself, but whatever coping mechanisms the person has come up with to try not to stutter interrupt the flow of speech and cause the disfluencies to continue even after the initial "problem" is gone.

This could explain . . .

. . . how some older stutterers manage to find a way to stop stuttering or at least stop stuttering noticeably. Whatever treatment, technique, or other action they decided to take gave them the confidence to turn talking back into an automatic process. And without the need for their coping mechanisms, only the "thing" that caused them to stutter in the first place is left, which might have since corrected itself. The result? Fluent, or very near fluent speech.

. . . why stutterers sometimes experience smooth speech during times of extreme non-speech-related stress or strong emotions. Their minds are so preoccupied with more troubling things, that they don't have the time or energy to use their coping mechanisms. And talking is turned back into an automatic process again.

. . . why stuttering is so situational. The brain has decided when it needs to use coping mechanisms and when it doesn't. If a stutterer thinks he's alone in a room, the brain doesn't feel the need to use any coping mechanisms—so talking is automatic and speech is perhaps fluent—but the minute someone walks into the room, the brain sees the need for coping mechanisms, sets them into motion, and the speech pattern is interrupted.

. . . why different people stutter in different situations. Each person's brain has chosen its own set of situations when coping mechanisms are needed. For example, most people don't feel the need for coping mechanisms when alone or talking to pets, but some people do.

. . . why stutterers often speak more smoothly if they change their voice or put on an accent. The brain views the new voice or accent as a new situation and doesn't see the need for any coping mechanisms—yet anyway.

. . . why stuttering situations change over time. The brain doesn't see the need for any coping mechanisms in a certain situation, but then something happens to change that conclusion. Then after that, whenever that situation arises, the coping mechanisms are set into motion and disfluency results. And vice versa.

. . . why it's so, so, so difficult to stop stuttering, even if the initial "problem" may have already gone. A stutterer essentially has to make something that's already conscious, unconscious. It's extremely difficult to not think of something when you're already thinking about it.

As for what that "thing" is that causes a person to stutter in the first place, my non-scientific-wild-ass guess is that it's either a neurological flaw from a brain-related injury (like my giving myself a concussion at the age of five) or normal childhood disfluencies that simply haven't gone away yet (previous posts on this: "What Causes Stuttering?" and "What if Stuttering Were Actually Normal Childhood Disfluency?").

We all develop at different rates, and I think it's a mistake to think that everyone's speech muscles, neurons, etc. should all develop fully and "catch up" during the preschool years. For some, it might take until the school years, the teen years, or adulthood for everything to catch up.

So I'm guessing the cure for stuttering itself is: Time.

But therapy plays a vitally important role, too: To help a stutterer keep the act of talking an automatic process and remove any conscious elements, or coping mechanisms, the stutterer might have developed. This way whenever the neurological flaw corrects itself or all the speech parts "catch up" there's nothing standing in the way of smooth speech.

And it might take the same techniques speech-language pathologists are already using in therapy (fluency shaping, stuttering modification, voluntary stuttering, etc.) to give a stutterer enough confidence to talk without using their beloved coping mechanisms, but I think turning speech back into an automatic process should be the goal, rather than outward fluency.

But this is all just a guess based on my own experiences as a stutterer and reading and hearing about others' experiences.

It fits my stutter, though. Why else can I talk smoothly when I forget about it?

So I'm determined now to rid myself of my many coping mechanisms (scanning ahead, plotting ways to talk smoothly, switching words, and so on) and to make speaking spontaneous again. I'm essentially going to forget about my stutter, not just avoid it but forget it.

The first step, I think, is to pay as little attention as possible to any stutters that do come out. I'll try it for a few weeks and then report back on how it went.