The prestige of an accent comes from the social power of those who speak it
En las ciudades y en las redes sociales, muchos han notado que las personas de mayor nivel socioeconómico tienden a hablar con voces más graves, y los expertos en fonoaudiología ofrecen una explicación que va más allá de la biología: aprendemos a sonar imitando a quienes nos rodean. La voz no es solo anatomía; es identidad construida, un espejo del entorno familiar, escolar y social en el que crecemos. Lo que percibimos como autoridad o credibilidad en un tono de voz no es una virtud fonética, sino el eco del poder social de quienes lo hablan.
- Un patrón observable en cafés y redes sociales —que los sectores acomodados hablan más grave— tiene una explicación concreta: la imitación vocal del entorno, no la biología.
- La voz se convierte en marcador de identidad y pertenencia, y algunas personas ajustan conscientemente su tono en contextos formales para proyectar autoridad, aunque no exista base fisiológica para esa asociación.
- El prejuicio lingüístico sigue siendo uno de los pocos que se expresa en voz alta y sin vergüenza, confundiendo acento con inteligencia o capacidad cuando en realidad refleja diferencias de contexto.
- En la práctica clínica, este sesgo tiene consecuencias reales: existe el riesgo de diagnosticar como trastorno lo que es simplemente una variedad de habla estigmatizada, derivando en tratamientos innecesarios.
- Los expertos advierten que visibilizar este fenómeno no es un ejercicio académico, sino un acto de justicia: ninguna resonancia es intrínsecamente superior a otra.
Quienes han notado que las personas de entornos más acomodados parecen hablar con voces más graves no están equivocados, y los fonoaudiólogos tienen una explicación clara: aprendemos a hablar imitando a quienes nos rodean. Hugo San Juan Cortés, fonoaudiólogo de Clínica Bupa Santiago y docente de la Universidad de Chile, señala que nadie nace sabiendo cómo sonar. Los sonidos, el ritmo, la melodía del habla y hasta la configuración muscular con la que producimos la voz se calibran contra los modelos que escuchamos en la familia, el barrio y la escuela.
Enrique Méndez, fonoaudiólogo de Clínica RedSalud Vitacura y profesor de la Pontificia Universidad Católica de Chile, agrega que la voz es también un marcador de identidad: adoptamos patrones vocales de los grupos con los que nos identificamos, incorporando entonaciones y estilos comunicativos que refuerzan el sentido de pertenencia. La biología establece los límites —largo, grosor y tensión de las cuerdas vocales, tamaño de la laringe— pero dentro de ese rango, el tono habitual es un comportamiento aprendido que ajustamos según la imagen que queremos proyectar. Algunas personas bajan conscientemente la voz en contextos formales porque la sociedad asocia los tonos graves con autoridad y credibilidad, aunque no haya ninguna base fisiológica para ello.
Sí existen acentos vinculados a clases sociales, coinciden los expertos, pero con una advertencia fundamental: el prestigio de un acento no proviene de sus características fonéticas, sino del poder social de quienes lo hablan. Ninguna resonancia es intrínsecamente superior a otra. Sin embargo, al escuchar a alguien hablar, activamos de forma casi automática e inconsciente asociaciones entre su voz y categorías sociales, asociaciones que en la mayoría de los casos son erróneas y que constituyen uno de los pocos prejuicios que aún se expresan en voz alta sin mayor reparo.
Las consecuencias son concretas. En la práctica clínica, el riesgo de confundir una variedad de habla estigmatizada con un trastorno puede derivar en diagnósticos equivocados y tratamientos innecesarios. Hacer visible este fenómeno, concluyen los especialistas, no es solo un debate académico: es una cuestión de justicia. La voz revela quiénes somos, pero también quiénes queremos parecer, y esa distinción importa mucho más que el tono en sí.
You've probably noticed it while scrolling through TikTok or sitting in a café—the way people from wealthier backgrounds seem to speak in lower, deeper voices than others. It's a pattern many have picked up on, and speech experts say there's a straightforward explanation: we learn how to sound by listening to and imitating the people around us.
Hugo San Juan Cortés, a speech pathologist at Clínica Bupa Santiago and professor at the University of Chile, explains that imitation is the primary driver behind these vocal differences across social groups. "Nobody is born with an instruction manual for speaking," he says. "We learn by imitating the voices of the people around us. From speech pathology we know that the development of sounds, rhythm, and the melody of speech are calibrated against the models we hear in our family, neighborhood, and school." This extends beyond just the sounds themselves—it includes what he calls phonatory adjustment, the muscular and postural configuration we adopt to produce our voice, which is also learned through imitation.
Enrique Méndez, a speech pathologist at Clínica RedSalud Vitacura and professor at the Pontificia Universidad Católica de Chile, adds that voice is not simply the result of anatomy. "Throughout our lives we tend to adopt vocal patterns from the people and groups we identify with, incorporating particular ways of speaking, intonations, and communicative styles that reinforce our sense of belonging," he explains. Voice becomes a marker of identity—it reflects both individual characteristics and shared elements with our social environment. It allows us to differentiate ourselves from others while simultaneously signaling who we are and where we belong.
Biology sets the boundaries, but what we do within those boundaries is largely learned behavior. San Juan Cortés explains that pitch depends on the vocal cords—their length, thickness, and tension—and the size of the larynx. "Within that physiological range, each person has a habitual tone that isn't set in stone, but rather a learned vocal behavior," he says. "And here's what's interesting: we tend to adjust that tone according to the group we identify with and the image we want to project." Some people consciously lower their voice in formal settings because society associates deeper voices with authority and credibility, even though there's no physiological basis for this association.
This raises the question of whether it's accurate to speak of accents linked to specific social classes. The answer, according to these experts, is yes—but with an important caveat. An accent is a set of concrete production traits: how we articulate sounds, resonance, vocal quality, and prosody. Since all of this is learned through imitation in our environment, it makes complete sense that groups sharing a context would share vocal and articulatory traits. However, San Juan Cortés emphasizes that this is precisely where prejudice enters. "The fact that an accent has more or less prestige has nothing to do with its phonatory or articulatory characteristics," he states. "No resonance is intrinsically superior to another. The prestige of an accent comes from the social power of those who speak it, not from any vocal virtue."
When we hear someone speak, we instantly pick up acoustic cues—vocal quality, melody, certain phonemes—and almost automatically link them to social categories. This happens quickly, unconsciously, and in most cases, it's completely wrong. San Juan Cortés is direct about the problem: "Linguistic prejudice is one of the few prejudices that is still expressed out loud and without much shame." No vocal or articulatory configuration indicates intelligence, knowledge, or capability. A particular resonance says nothing about the cognition of the person speaking. These associations are learned biases, transmitted culturally, that reflect differences in context rather than who speaks "better."
The stakes are real. In speech pathology, this has direct clinical consequences: there's a genuine risk of confusing a stigmatized speech variety with a disorder, which can lead to misdiagnosis and unnecessary treatment. Making people aware of this situation isn't merely an academic exercise—it's a matter of justice. The voice may reveal who we are, but it also reveals who we want to appear to be, and that distinction matters far more than the pitch itself.
Citações Notáveis
Nobody is born with an instruction manual for speaking. We learn by imitating the voices of the people around us.— Hugo San Juan Cortés, speech pathologist at Clínica Bupa Santiago
The prestige of an accent comes from the social power of those who speak it, not from any vocal virtue. The hierarchy between accents is prejudice, not phonetics, not science.— Hugo San Juan Cortés
A Conversa do Hearth Outra perspectiva sobre a história
So when you say voice is learned, you mean someone could actually change how deep or high they sound?
Absolutely. Within the biological range your larynx gives you, your habitual pitch is a behavior, not a fixed trait. People do it all the time—consciously or not—based on who they're around and what they want to project.
But why would wealthier people specifically adopt deeper voices?
Because in most societies, deeper voices are coded as authoritative and credible. If you grow up in an environment where the people around you—your parents, teachers, peers—speak that way, you naturally absorb it. It becomes normal, becomes you.
Is there anything actually superior about a deeper voice, though?
No. That's the crucial point. There's no phonetic or physiological reason a deeper voice is better. The prestige is entirely social—it comes from the power of the people who speak that way, not from the sound itself.
So when people judge someone's intelligence based on their accent, they're making an assumption?
A learned assumption, yes. We do it instantly and unconsciously. We hear certain acoustic patterns and link them to social categories. But those patterns tell you about someone's environment, not their intelligence or capability.
What worries you most about this?
That in clinical settings, a speech variation that's just a normal product of someone's social environment gets mistaken for a disorder. That someone gets diagnosed and treated for something that isn't actually wrong with them—just different.