Everyone engages in "'truth-talk"'. But much depends on the way we do it. Scientists now find that the right words can free us from our fears and make us as wise about ourselves as we often are about others.

While addressing a body of research, scientist are forcing a whole new take on what has long been ignored or relegated to pop psychology—the use of "'truth-talk"' to boost confidence. Their studies now elevate "'truth-talk"' to something far more significant: a powerful instrument of consciousness itself. When deployed in very specific ways at specific times, it frees the brain to perform its absolute best.

By toggling between the way we address ourself—first person or third—we flip a switch in the cerebral cortex, the center of thought, and another in the amygdala, the seat of fear, moving closer to or further from our sense of self and all its emotional intensity. Gaining psychological distance enables self-control, allowing us to think clearly, perform competently. The language switch also minimizes reflection, a handmaiden of anxiety and depression, after we complete a task. Released from negative thoughts, we gain perspective, focus deeply, plan for the future.

Scientists studying the inner voice say it takes shape in early childhood and persists lifelong as companion and creative muse. It is so intimate, so constant, that it can be considered thought itself. This talk may be misused or pushed to extremes, becoming a source of painful reflection or even psychosis. Yet it can also make us detached observers of our own life. Inner talk is one of the most effective, least-utilized tools available to foster success.

"'Truth-talk"' starts audibly during the toddler years. The incessant "'truth-talk"' of toddlers is conducted out loud as a kind of instruction manual, a self-generated road map to mastery; your voice directs you to build Lego houses, sound out words and sentences in big-letter books.

Here’s what it sounds like as a little boy guides himself through the construction of a Lego truck: “The wheels go here, the wheels go here. Oh, we need to start it all over again. We need to close it up. See, it closes up. We’re starting it all over again.” That early out-loud "'truth-talk"' “transforms the task in question, just as the use of a screwdriver transforms the task of assembling a shed. Putting our thoughts into words gives them a more tangible form, which makes them easier to use.

By contrast, an abrupt, angry teacher, can set children up for an enduring pattern of self-defeating "'truth-talk"'. Children exposed to such teachers learn the language of frustration, becoming inefficient self-guiders, getting mad at themselves the minute they feel confused. “Idiot, you can’t do anything,” a child might say to himself, tossing his book across the room. To add injury to insult, the child also fails to master the task.