I love Tandem from the first day I joined. Every day, I fire up the app with clear intentions: learning Chinese, dusting off my French and German, and diving into English group conversations that actually go somewhere interesting.
Here’s what I’ve noticed: the vast majority of English groups claim they’re for learning or improving English. And most users genuinely believe that’s what they’re doing.
But after spending a decent chunk of time observing and engaging in these rooms, I’ve come to an uncomfortable conclusion: there’s a massive user base out there lying to themselves, logging hours on a language app while learning precisely nothing.
I know that sounds harsh. But tell me if I’m completely off base, or if you’ve seen exactly what I’m talking about in this blog post.
The Fluency Gap Nobody Wants to Address
I’m a fluent, non-native English speaker. When native speakers start rapid-firing in unfamiliar accents, I can keep up, debate back, push ideas around. It’s comfortable territory for me now, which means I’m still picking up idioms and vocabulary in contexts I actually understand.
I don’t join these conversations to “learn English” anymore. I join because the people are interesting, because they’re fluent enough to explore ideas beyond surface level, because they’re the kind of speakers who don’t stop at “How are you doing?, Where are you from?“
But here’s what happens constantly: someone joins the speaking section, realizes within seconds that the pace is way beyond them, and quietly disappears.
Or worse: They stay, frozen in intimidated silence, understanding nothing and learning even less.
Read also: 1 Month On Tandem: My Wild Ride Through Language Learning (and Fake Models)
I’ve been mid-conversation with native speakers, diving deep into something actually engaging, when someone else hops on stage and manages maybe two fragmented sentences. What follows is that special brand of awkward silence.
We don’t know how to respond. The momentum dies. The conversation that was flowing naturally between fluent speakers just… stops.
And look, it’s not their fault. They showed up to practice. That’s exactly what they should be doing.
The blame sits with us. The fluent speakers, for not adapting our pace so others can actually participate.
But then there’s this question hanging in the air:
- Should we really backtrack to “Where are you from?” basics every time?
- Are we supposed to abandon the substantive conversation we were having?
It’s an impossible line to walk. Fluent and native speakers don’t want to be rude, but we’re also not eager to sacrifice every interesting discussion the moment someone less confident joins.
So what happens? People stay parked in the listening section, convinced they can’t compete, never actually practicing their speech at all.
The Correction Problem: When Kindness Becomes Complicity
I join two to four groups daily. More often than not, I’m speaking rather than listening. And when users participate with broken English or make fundamental mistakes, nobody corrects them.
Not the hosts. Not the other speakers. Not even me, and that’s a real shame, because I absolutely should if I am confident enough as a non-native English speaker.
Nobody wants to be the person publicly correcting someone in front of dozens of listeners. Nobody wants to interrupt mid-sentence to point out a grammar error or mangled sentence structure.
We all have this fear of looking like the villain, the idiotic jerk making others feel inferior, even when our intentions are genuinely helpful.
But when nobody is willing to correct you, how are you ever going to improve your speech?
You don’t. You carry those same mistakes forward. You repeat them until they turn into habits, embedding themselves so deeply that they become part of how you speak.
And those errors persist until someone has the courage to pull you aside and actually teach you the right way.
Bad English Reinforces Bad English
This is going to sound even harsher, but it needs saying: I’ve entered rooms hosted by people whose English is objectively poor, and every single speaker matches that level. The social aspect is there. The intentions are good. Everyone wants to improve.
But improvement? Not happening. It can’t happen in that environment.
Imagine if I opened a Traditional Chinese room for beginners when I can barely nail a single tone correctly.
Picture me fumbling through bad Mandarin with people who assume I know more than they do simply because I’m hosting.
Read also: Study Brew: A Small Study Group For English & Chinese
What’s the result? Nobody learns anything. Everyone mimics my mistakes, copies my bad habits, and walks away with exactly the wrong patterns embedded in their practice.
I’m not saying that hosts who aren’t proficient shouldn’t host rooms. I’m saying they need to be honest about what those rooms actually are: casual social chats, not genuine learning environments.
Don’t promise practice and improvement when your own level is equal to or worse than the people you’re supposedly helping.
The sad irony? Most participants join with this exact phrase: “I’m here to practice and learn English.” That’s a hard bargain to fulfill when nobody in the room can teach you, and nobody is willing to correct you.
The Topic Death Spiral
When fluency is absent, conversations die fast. And when they die, people grasp for the same tired life rafts, over and over:
- Where are you from?
- What do you do?
- Why are you learning English?
- Do you like travel?
- What’s your favorite food?
If you’ve been on Tandem for a while, you’ve cycled through these questions more times than you’ve changed clothes in a year. I’m not exaggerating.
Sure, repetition can help with practice but only if you’re practicing correctly. When you’re repeating broken English that nobody corrects, when nobody is genuinely interested in your answers because they’re just killing time until someone else asks them the same five questions, you’re not progressing.
You’re stuck at the exact same level you were two years ago.
Conversations keep dying because there’s a fundamental lack of knowledge or confidence to propose topics people don’t already have canned responses for.
The moment you pull that confidence out from under someone’s feet by introducing something unfamiliar, they bolt. They’d rather leave than risk embarrassment in a foreign language.
What Actually Needs to Change
By design, Tandem is supposed to be a language exchange learning app. In practice, it often feels like a polished version of the failed Clubhouse app. A place where people gather to feel productive without actually producing anything.
Here’s what could make it work the way it’s supposed to:
- Fluent and native speakers need to step up. We should actively encourage genuine practice, not just pleasant small talk. If someone wants real feedback, we need to give it to them. Publicly, respectfully, and constructively. Correcting mistakes shouldn’t feel like an attack; it should feel like the gift it actually is.
- Hosts need to be radically specific. Don’t just write “English Practice.” Tell people the actual level required to meaningfully engage. If your room is intermediate to advanced, say so. If it’s truly beginner-friendly, commit to slowing down and actually teaching. Don’t promise one thing and deliver another.
- We need permission to redirect conversations. Hosts shouldn’t be afraid to gently steer things back on track when someone derails the discussion with yet another “Where are you from?” loop. This isn’t about being mean—it’s about protecting the learning environment everyone supposedly came for.
- Correction should be normalized and welcomed. Create a culture where asking for feedback is standard, where mistakes are expected and addressed immediately, where improvement actually happens in real time instead of being perpetually deferred.
This only works if there’s courage and willingness on both sides. Learners need to be brave enough to make mistakes publicly and accept correction. Fluent speakers need to be kind enough to offer that correction even when it’s uncomfortable.
I get that not everyone takes language learning on Tandem as seriously as I do.
For many, it’s just a social space, a way to chat with strangers without strict expectations.
That’s fine, but let’s stop pretending those casual hangouts are the same thing as actual language practice.
The Uncomfortable Truth
Language learning requires discomfort. It requires making mistakes in front of people. It requires being corrected, sometimes repeatedly, sometimes embarrassingly.
It requires conversations that push you just past your comfort zone, not conversations that let you coast indefinitely in safe, familiar territory.
Tandem has the infrastructure to facilitate real learning. It has the user base. It has the format. What it lacks is the collective honesty to admit when we’re fooling ourselves, when we’re choosing comfort over growth.
We’re logging hours without making progress, we’re surrounding ourselves with other learners who can’t push us forward because they’re stuck in the exact same place.
So here’s my question: Are you actually learning, or are you just really good at looking busy?
Because if it’s the latter, you’re not alone. But you could be doing so much more.