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In Berlin, a city whose inhabitants come from 184 countries, I hear many different languages every day: from the Arabic-speaking kids I see in the mornings on their way to school to the Italian waiters chit-chatting under my window just before I fall asleep at night. I speak Swedish, English and German, so for the most part, these other languages feel more like background noise, or ambient music in a bar.
Until, that is, a word or phrase I recognize suddenly pops into an otherwise random stream of sounds. A mother scolding her child in Turkish suddenly says, in German, Und das kannst du einfach nicht machen, verstehst du? (“You simply can’t do that, understand?”). On the subway, a couple of Finnish twentysomethings insert an “I gotta make up my mind!” into their Finnish conversation. A Swabian colleague calls her mom, and suddenly speaks in a language that definitely isn’t the German I learned when I moved here from Sweden.
What do these people all have in common? They’re all practicing the fine art of code-switching — that uniquely linguistic habit of shifting between different languages, dialects or styles depending on the context, environment or social context.
What Is Code-Switching & Why Do People Code-Switch?The classic definition of code-switching is changing seamlessly between two languages within a single conversation. It’s common in bilingual communities, such as Spanish and English speakers in North America, where people code-switch naturally as part of everyday discourse.
Bilingual speakers equally proficient in both languages often engage in code-switching like this account of my Puerto Rican co-worker’s night out: “La comida estaba bien delicious, we enjoyed it a lot! Pasamos una noche super nice!” People like myself, however, who speak one language better than the other, tend to code-switch less frequently.
In a broader sense, code switching also includes shifting between formal and informal speech, or between a regional dialect and a standardized version of a language. This practice of shifting isn’t random — it reflects how speakers adjust their language to align with cultural norms, societal expectations and the immediate environment.
Code-switching requires a high level of fluency, which makes it different from borrowing words. Borrowing happens because a language lacks a specific term; code-switching, on the other hand, is a choice. People code-switch because they can — and because it serves a purpose.
It might not seem obvious, as much of this switching happens unconsciously, but there are clear reasons people code-switch — from expressing identity to navigating workplace norms, or even avoiding stereotypes and bias.
Your Heart Speaks Your Mother TongueOften, our first language is tied to identity, safety and childhood — and to our most instinctive emotions. So when we live in a different linguistic environment, we rely on our native language to express strong feelings like anger, fear or excitement.
I, for instance, have inherited terrible road rage from my mother, and that road rage is definitely Swedish. Probably for the best, since if I were shouting those same things in German, I might be writing this from prison.
But it’s not always about emotional intensity. Sometimes, switching into a second language creates distance. In high school, my friends and I would switch to English when talking about vulnerable topics — not because it was secret, but because it felt less direct, less exposed. Saying I love you in English somehow felt easier than jag älskar dig in Swedish.
This is one of the subtler benefits and drawbacks of code-switching: it can help us express ourselves, but also alter how those expressions feel.
The Word Is Not EnoughAnother common reason people code-switch is precision. Sometimes, the perfect word exists — just not in the language you’re currently speaking.
Instead of searching for a slightly off translation, you slip into a different language and say exactly what you mean. Whether it’s veröffentlicht, che disagio, or a perfectly placed English phrase like “making sense,” code-switching helps convey meaning more accurately.
This isn’t always about untranslatable words. Even when translations exist, they don’t always carry the same nuance, tone or cultural weight. So speakers naturally adopt the term that fits best.
Examples of Code-Switching: The Topic Decides The LanguageCertain topics seem to belong to certain languages. Anyone who spends time online knows the dominance of English in areas like tech, social discourse or the workplace. Terms like “mansplaining” or “open source” often feel more natural than their translated equivalents.
Living abroad amplifies this effect. In Berlin, no one says “citizen office” instead of Bürgeramt. And when you say, “You have to go to the Amt,” you’re conveying more than just “authority” — you’re invoking a whole institutional experience.
This is one of the clearest examples of code-switching: the topic itself determines the language.
Experiences also shape this. A friend once told me she could only talk about giving birth in German, because that’s where the experience happened. Language, memory and context are deeply intertwined.
Code-Switching In The Workplace And SocietyCode-switching isn’t just about language — it’s also about navigating professional settings, societal expectations and inclusion. In the workplace, people may code-switch to align with perceived norms, adopting standard American English, softening an accent, or downplaying cultural mannerisms.
This is especially true in institutional environments where professionalism is often narrowly defined. For some, like Black women, this can mean switching between African American Vernacular English (AAVE) and standard American English to avoid stereotypes or negative perception.
People may code-switch to fit in, avoid bias, or foster common ground with peers. But this constant adjustment can come with pressure, fatigue and even burnout. Psychologists note that prolonged code-switching can lead to feelings of inauthenticity, as individuals subconsciously conform to external expectations.
This raises important questions about equity and inclusivity. Should individuals have to alter their speech to be seen as competent? Or should workplaces foster more inclusive environments where diverse linguistic identities are accepted?
Code-switching can help navigate social spaces, but it also highlights where inclusion is still lacking.
Showing Off Or Showing KinshipOf course, code-switching isn’t always about pressure. Sometimes, it’s playful — a way to show off linguistic skills or signal belonging.
A Milanese professional might throw in a bit of English to sound cosmopolitan. A manager might switch registers to engage different audiences. Among friends, switching languages can reinforce shared identity, ethnicity or cultural background.
It can also be deeply unconscious. We adapt our speech depending on who we’re talking to — a parent, a colleague, a peer — without even realizing it.
Let’s Keep Code-Switching!“Aren’t you good enough at German?” “Why are you speaking English all the time?” These are familiar critiques for anyone who frequently engages in code-switching.
And yes, there’s value in fluency, in being able to stick to one language when needed. But code-switching isn’t a flaw — it’s a reflection of how we navigate complex social and linguistic environments.
Personally, I’ll admit that sometimes it’s laziness. Sometimes I switch because I can’t find the right word quickly enough, or because grammar gets in the way. But more often, it’s simply the most natural way to communicate.
As long as everyone in the conversation understands, what’s the harm?
Code-switching is part of identity. It reflects where we come from, where we are, and how we connect with others. So mach weiter — and keep on switching.
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