Cut the Throat-Clearing: 25 Filler Phrases That Make Drafts Sound Generated

Open almost any AI-generated paragraph and the first sentence does nothing. It clears its throat. “In today’s fast-paced digital landscape, it is important to consider…” — and you’re three commas deep before anyone’s said a thing. That throat-clearing is the single most common reason a draft reads as generated, and the good news is most of it can be deleted without rewriting a word.

This is a list of 25 filler phrases worth hunting down in your own work, grouped by the job they pretend to do. None of them are banned. They just don’t earn their space.

Key takeaways

• Most AI tells aren’t fancy vocabulary. They’re filler: throat-clearing openers, empty hedges, and stacked transitions that pad a sentence without adding meaning.
• Phrases like “in today’s digital landscape,” “it’s important to note,” and “when it comes to” signal a draft that’s circling instead of committing.
• The fastest fix is usually to delete the run-up and start with the actual claim. No rewriting required.
• Detectors don’t flag specific words. They notice flat, evenly-paced text — and filler is exactly what flattens your rhythm.
• Read your draft out loud. Anything you’d never say to a person across a table is probably the filler you can cut.

Why filler reads as “generated” in the first place

Here’s the thing people get wrong. They assume detectors keep a list of forbidden words and that “delve” or “moreover” will get them flagged. That’s not how it works. Detectors mostly measure how predictable your text is — how closely each word follows the statistical average of everything the model has seen. Filler phrases are the most predictable strings in the language. “It is important to note that” is about as low-surprise as a sentence can get.

So filler hurts you twice. It pads your word count with nothing, and it flattens the rhythm of your prose into a smooth, even hum. That evenness is part of why detectors react to flat, predictable rhythm. Real writing has bursts and stops. Filler smooths those out. Cut it and your sentences get sharper and your pacing gets bumpier — both of which read as human.

Category 1: Throat-clearing openers

These are the windups before the pitch. They announce that a thought is coming instead of just having it.

1. In today’s fast-paced world / digital landscape / age of AI — Pure scene-setting that says nothing. Start with the actual point.
2. It’s important to note that — If it weren’t important, you wouldn’t write it. Delete the frame.
3. It’s worth mentioning that — Same problem. Just mention it.
4. When it comes to X — Almost always replaceable with the bare noun. “When it comes to deadlines, students struggle” → “Students miss deadlines.”
5. In order to — “To” does the entire job. Every single time.
6. At the end of the day — A verbal shrug. It promises a conclusion and delivers a cliché.
7. Needless to say — Then don’t say it.

Mini-scenario. A student opens an essay: “In today’s rapidly evolving educational environment, it is important to note that academic integrity remains a key concern.” Strip the throat-clearing and you’re left with: “Academic integrity is a real concern.” Eleven words become five, and only now does the sentence actually start.

Category 2: Empty hedges and qualifiers

Hedges aren’t always bad — sometimes you genuinely mean “roughly.” But a draft drowning in them sounds like it’s afraid of its own claims.

1. It could be argued that — Either argue it or don’t. This phrase outsources your opinion to nobody.
2. In some sense / in a way — Vague to the point of meaningless.
3. More often than not — Usually you mean “usually.” Say “usually.”
4. For all intents and purposes — Five words that mean “basically,” and “basically” is already filler.
5. To a certain extent — Which extent? If you can’t say, the hedge is hiding that you don’t know.
6. Generally speaking — Cut it and the sentence is still general.

The tell here is stacking. One hedge in a paragraph is caution. Four is a draft that won’t say anything you could disagree with — which is precisely what generated text does to stay safe.

Category 3: Transition stacking

Transitions are connective tissue. The trouble starts when every paragraph opens with one and they pile up.

1. Moreover — Fine once. Lethal when it follows “furthermore” two sentences earlier.
2. Furthermore — Same.
3. Additionally — Same. Pick one of these three per page, max, and often you need none.
4. Last but not least — A cliché that adds a beat of dead air before your final point.
5. In conclusion — Your reader can see the paragraph is last. Trust them.

Watch what happens when transitions disappear: “The policy raised costs. Moreover, it slowed approvals. Furthermore, it frustrated staff.” becomes “The policy raised costs, slowed approvals, and frustrated staff.” One sentence, more force, and the list rhythm does the connecting work the transitions were faking.

Category 4: Redundant intensifiers and padding

These words multiply without adding. They’re the styrofoam peanuts of prose.

1. Very / really / extremely — Find the stronger word instead. “Very tired” → “exhausted.”
2. Actually / basically / literally — Conversational tics that survive into writing and weaken it.
3. The fact that — “Despite the fact that” is just “although.” “Due to the fact that” is just “because.”
4. In terms of — Usually deletable. “In terms of cost, it’s high” → “It’s expensive.”
5. A wide range of / a variety of / a plethora of — Reach for the specific number or the specific examples instead.
6. Each and every — Pick one. They mean the same thing.
7. That being said — A long way to say “but.” Use “but.”

A two-minute filler pass you can run on any draft

You don’t need to memorize all 25. Try this instead.

Read it out loud

Filler is the language you’d never use talking to a friend across a table. You wouldn’t say “It’s worth noting that the deadline is Friday.” You’d say “The deadline’s Friday.” Your ear catches what your eye skims. This is the single highest-leverage edit, and it costs nothing.

Search for the worst offenders

Open find-and-search and run through five strings: “in order to,” “the fact that,” “when it comes to,” “it is important,” and “in terms of.” These five catch a surprising amount of the mess. Fix them and the surrounding sentences usually tighten on their own.

Delete the run-up, keep the claim

Most filler lives at the *front* of a sentence — the windup before the real verb. When you spot it, ask where the sentence actually starts, then start there. Nine times out of ten the lead-up was disposable.

A quick before-and-after, all three moves at once:

> Before: “In today’s competitive job market, it is important to note that, generally speaking, networking can to a certain extent be a very effective strategy for the vast majority of job seekers.” > > After: “Networking works for most job seekers.”

Twelve words doing what thirty-three couldn’t. The shorter version also happens to sound far more like a person who knows what they think — which is the whole point.

What cutting filler won’t fix

Be honest with yourself about this. Trimming filler makes flabby writing tight, but it won’t manufacture substance that isn’t there. If a paragraph has no concrete detail, no example, and no point of view, removing the padding just gives you a shorter empty paragraph. Filler is a symptom. The cure is having something specific to say and saying it in sentences of varying length.

That’s also why filler-cutting is one lever, not a magic switch, when you’re trying to sound human on a detection check. You still need real specifics and genuine sentence variety. If you want more on that craft, there’s more on the craft of writing that reads human worth digging into.

Frequently asked questions

Are these filler phrases actually banned by AI detectors?

No. Detectors don’t keep a blocklist of words. Most work by measuring how predictable and evenly-paced your text is. Filler hurts you indirectly — these are high-frequency, low-information strings that flatten your sentence rhythm and make a draft read like the statistical average of everything online. Cutting them makes your writing tighter and less generic, which helps with human readers and automated checks alike.

If I remove all filler, won’t my writing feel abrupt?

Some transitions and qualifiers earn their place. The goal isn’t zero connective tissue — it’s cutting the words that do no work. A real “however” that marks a genuine turn is fine. A “moreover” stacked on a “furthermore” stacked on an “additionally” is throat-clearing. When you cut the dead weight, you usually find the sentence underneath was clearer all along.

How do I catch filler in my own drafts?

Read it out loud. Filler is the stuff you’d never say to a friend across a table. “It’s worth noting that the deadline is Friday” becomes “The deadline’s Friday” the moment you hear yourself say it. A quick search pass for the worst offenders here — “in order to,” “the fact that,” “when it comes to” — catches most of the rest in a couple of minutes.

Does cutting filler make text pass detection on its own?

It helps, but it’s one lever, not the whole machine. Filler is a surface symptom; truly generated-sounding text also has flat sentence variety, no concrete detail, and no point of view. Trim the filler, add specifics, vary your sentence lengths. Then run the result through a detector to see how the score moves before and after.

The point

Good writing isn’t decorated. It’s stripped. Most of what makes a draft sound generated isn’t a clever word you need to add — it’s the dead weight you need to remove. Run the two-minute pass, read it aloud, and watch how much sharper your own voice gets once the throat-clearing is gone.

When you want a second read on whether a draft still sounds machine-made, check a draft and humanize it and see exactly which lines are pulling you down.