Based on yesterday's discussion, I'm going to make the focus of this post the quote from the movie Waking Life. I copied the quote in it's entirety at the bottom of the post. Basically, it seems to me that the woman quoted could easily have just graduated from our class (or, as is more likely, a linguistics major). She gives an interesting theory on the development of language, saying that our communication basically started off as a survivalist feature. So we would express those things directly related to our physical needs. As it developed, however, we became capable of expressing more complex and abstract thoughts. Since we've been talking about this in class for months now, I'm not going to elaborate on my or anyone else's theory of how language came about. (Since Lera quite pointedly noted that those theories, while interesting and fun, are just stories, each equally plausible).
Instead, I'm going to concentrate on the problem of whether communication is realistically possible. We perceive language to be a functional form of communication: with our coded system of expression, we can communicate our ideas to each other. Obviously, I don't think anyone views language as a 'perfect' form of communication: there are obviously feelings, ideas, and intangible notions we can never truly express. But language has a method of grouping thoughts and feelings into general categories which allow us to achieve a generalized form of expression. For instance, if I feel a mixture of anger, annoyance, irritation, and impatience, but I can't label that mixture, language directs me to the word 'frustration' (the quote asks what the meaning of this word really is). But does that always mean that language directs us to the most adequate definition possible for our feelings? The idea that language can express our emotions seems to restrict our emotional spectrum to neatly compartmentalized categories, each more-or-less independent. However, I feel personally that this is not really how feelings work. I can feel a mixture of frustration and anguish, or simultaneous despair and joy, and language will never really give me a sufficient symbol to express such feelings. Is this due to a lack of vocabulary on my part or a lack in language to fully encompass my emotional scope? My hypothesis (though it's impossible to prove) is the latter.
Categorization is an inherent linguistic feature that creates a disconnect between how the world is and how we express its existence. In language, we as people need definition in order to differentiate anything. I can define myself through repeated categorization in order to differentiate myself from anyone else; this pyramid structure would look something like this: human -> male -> white -> brown hair -> blue eyes -> American ... (and on and on). This linguistic process is applied in order to differentiate everything: we have base definitions (like 'table') in dictionaries, and then we draw upon specific features in order to define and categories more specific objects.
Two problems arise from this: firstly, without a hugely specific definition, we never fully communicate what we have in our minds. Secondly, this divisive 'us and them,' 'this and that' construct presents a false conception of reality. Let me explain the first problem: if I have a picture in my mind (let's say a specific house or a specific table), and I attempt to describe this picture to someone drawing it, will they ever be able to draw the picture exactly as it is in my mind? If they don't, it's possible to default to the explanation that they have imperfect artistic skills. So what if I went to Da Vinci and asked him to draw what was in my mind? My personal theory is that, even if I were to describe a picture in my mind to someone with perfect artistic ability, they would still fail to recreate the picture in my mind exactly. This points to the idea that language can never fully communicate exactly what we're thinking of. When I say 'house,' the person I say it to gets a completely different idea in his mind of a house than I get in my mind, based on personal experience. This disconnect is amplified in the case of more intangible ideas, such as 'love'. Also, the person will never be able to approach painting the picture in my mind unless I define, redefine, and redefine specifically how the picture looks. Thus, language inherently enforces upon us a system of continuous redefinition in order to draw distinctions.
Now onto the second problem: does this construct give us a false conception of reality? My opinion is that it does. As I have noted, it seems impossible for language to fully encompass the ideas we are trying to express. However, another aspect of language's necessity of differentiation is that it may end up dividing things that are essentially interconnected, overlapping, or even the same. This takes me back to the initial example of emotion: we can never truly know how to express our feelings in an absolutist way that fully represents our specific feeling. We can't even be sure that other people feel emotions the same way (or to the same degree) as us. Thus, it's difficult to conclude that language's differentiation of emotions into categories is ever accurate. Is there really a difference between being 'angry' and 'mad,' between 'frustration' and 'irritation'? I think that, by dividing such feelings into categories, language enforces upon us a false construct of reality.
That's my rant/schpiel for today.
whole script: http://www.script-o-rama.com/movie_scripts/w/waking-life-script-transcript-linklater.html
Creation seems to come out of imperfection.
It seems to come out of a striving and a frustration.
And this is where I think language came from.
I mean, it came from our desire to transcend our isolation...
and have some sort of connection with one another.
And it had to be easy when it was just simple survival.
Like, you know, "water." We came up with a sound for that.
Or, "Saber-toothed tiger right behind you." We came up with a sound for that.
But when it gets really interesting, I think,
is when we use that same system of symbols to communicate...
all the abstract and intangible things that we're experiencing.
What is, like, frustration? Or what is anger or love?
When I say "love,"
the sound comes out of my mouth...
and it hits the other person's ear,
travels through this Byzantine conduit in their brain,
you know, through their memories of love or lack of love,
and they register what I'm saying and say yes, they understand.
But how do I know they understand? Because words are inert.
They're just symbols. They're dead, you know?
And so much of our experience is intangible.
So much of what we perceive cannot be expressed. It's unspeakable.
And yet, you know, when we communicate with one another,
and we--
we feel that we have connected,
and we think that we're understood,
I think we have a feeling of almost spiritual communion.
And that feeling might be transient, but I think it's what we live for.
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
Monday, November 26, 2007
Introduction to the Initiation of Idioms and their Impact
This week's article that I read was on the origin and development of idioms. According to the article, "An idiom generally is an expression different from its literal meaning. Often, only people in a particular region or class understand it." An example would be something like 'Hair of the dog,' which, according to the article, means "Another drink of the same to help cure a hangover." This comes from the old belief that a bite from a mad dog could be cured if you put hair from the same dog's tail on the wound."
The question I want to explore in this post is whether idioms are a positive or negative force in language. For the purposes of this exploration, "'Idiom' is a very loose term that can mean anything from the colloquial to a metaphor [...] An idiom starts as a phrase, becomes an idiom when it catches on, and then dies as a cliché." (from article)
Do idioms ultimately end up adding to or hurting language? My theory is that idioms help in the pursuit of developing languages, but ultimately hinder people's understanding of these languages. As quoted in the article, "Susan Gass, a professor of linguistics and languages at Michigan State University, believes some of the long-used phrases stem from something real, but sometimes the particular reference disappears over time." Because the reference for idioms disappears (her example being that of someone sounding like a broken record), the inferred meaning of idioms may retain while the literal meaning may disappear (as records have). This ultimately makes idioms more difficult to interpret as they progress through generations. Idioms also present language barriers between geographical areas and cultures. For instance, without the belief in the hair of a mad dog curing the bite, the phrase 'hair of the dog' cannot be tied to any literal significance, thus is much harder to translate. This becomes a significant difficulty when the idiom replaces an alternative way of expressing an idea, so that it is impossible to fully explain or comprehend what is being said with an idiom because no other phrase exists that encompasses the same meaning. This could easily apply to the addage we talked about in class: 'the spirit is willing but the flesh is weak' translating into 'the vodka is strong but the meat is rotten.' Either phrase in the other language doesn't have the same traditional basis, thus is incomprehensible. Taking another example from personal experience, in Spanish class we learned traditional idioms such as 'vete a friar asparago' (go fry asparagus); these obviously have no translatable inferred meaning in English. If they do, I certainly can't understand it.
However, it can also be argued that they add to language by developing it beyond its initial literal phase. Professor of Cognitive Linguistics George Lakoff argues that most language is, essentially, a metaphor. He points as an example to the idea of English equating time with money (eg: spend time, waste time, invest time...). His idea of language as a metaphor has some merit: when we think about language, essentially, it becomes apparent that language itself usually has no intrinsic ties to the ideas and concepts it depicts (apart from exceptions like onomonopia (sorry about that spelling)). There is no connection between the word 'house' and the actual house itself. Furthermore, the word 'house' doesn't describe any specific house: it is a generalization equally applicable to all houses. In the same way, idioms are generalizations based on specific cases (such as the word 'house' must have initially been based on an actual house or at least idea of one). Thus, it can be argued that idioms themselves are just a feature of a language as it extends past its infancy into a more complex development level, which includes expressing ideas as idioms.
Article at: http://www.courant.com/features/lifestyle/hc-sundaylifeidioms.artnov25,0,2633476.story
The question I want to explore in this post is whether idioms are a positive or negative force in language. For the purposes of this exploration, "'Idiom' is a very loose term that can mean anything from the colloquial to a metaphor [...] An idiom starts as a phrase, becomes an idiom when it catches on, and then dies as a cliché." (from article)
Do idioms ultimately end up adding to or hurting language? My theory is that idioms help in the pursuit of developing languages, but ultimately hinder people's understanding of these languages. As quoted in the article, "Susan Gass, a professor of linguistics and languages at Michigan State University, believes some of the long-used phrases stem from something real, but sometimes the particular reference disappears over time." Because the reference for idioms disappears (her example being that of someone sounding like a broken record), the inferred meaning of idioms may retain while the literal meaning may disappear (as records have). This ultimately makes idioms more difficult to interpret as they progress through generations. Idioms also present language barriers between geographical areas and cultures. For instance, without the belief in the hair of a mad dog curing the bite, the phrase 'hair of the dog' cannot be tied to any literal significance, thus is much harder to translate. This becomes a significant difficulty when the idiom replaces an alternative way of expressing an idea, so that it is impossible to fully explain or comprehend what is being said with an idiom because no other phrase exists that encompasses the same meaning. This could easily apply to the addage we talked about in class: 'the spirit is willing but the flesh is weak' translating into 'the vodka is strong but the meat is rotten.' Either phrase in the other language doesn't have the same traditional basis, thus is incomprehensible. Taking another example from personal experience, in Spanish class we learned traditional idioms such as 'vete a friar asparago' (go fry asparagus); these obviously have no translatable inferred meaning in English. If they do, I certainly can't understand it.
However, it can also be argued that they add to language by developing it beyond its initial literal phase. Professor of Cognitive Linguistics George Lakoff argues that most language is, essentially, a metaphor. He points as an example to the idea of English equating time with money (eg: spend time, waste time, invest time...). His idea of language as a metaphor has some merit: when we think about language, essentially, it becomes apparent that language itself usually has no intrinsic ties to the ideas and concepts it depicts (apart from exceptions like onomonopia (sorry about that spelling)). There is no connection between the word 'house' and the actual house itself. Furthermore, the word 'house' doesn't describe any specific house: it is a generalization equally applicable to all houses. In the same way, idioms are generalizations based on specific cases (such as the word 'house' must have initially been based on an actual house or at least idea of one). Thus, it can be argued that idioms themselves are just a feature of a language as it extends past its infancy into a more complex development level, which includes expressing ideas as idioms.
Article at: http://www.courant.com/features/lifestyle/hc-sundaylifeidioms.artnov25,0,2633476.story
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
Lack of Languages Learnt Lowers following Linguistic Leap
The article I read today dealt with the increase of instruction in foreign languages in the US. The article reveals that "The latest figures from the Modern Language Association of America, released Tuesday, reflect a major push toward internationalization on college campuses, more government support for language study and simply more interest from students. Over four years, total enrollment in language courses has grown 12.9 percent." However, this is not what interested me the most in the article. What I found particularly interesting is that the most prominently growing language is Arabic. "Arabic is the fastest-growing major language, breaking the top 10 for the first time with just under 24,000 enrollments," according to the article. The amount of students taking Arabic and institutions offering it has more than doubled since 2002.
What accounts for this specific increase? The article hints that "Enrollments in languages such as Russian and Arabic have traditionally spiked with world events." This is a pretty direct hint that languages gain prominence and a need for languages develops as those languages become important to people's direction or goals in life: namely, political and business goals. With the Middle East the current focus of American and international peace efforts, with Iraq the current American overseas military target, and with the political issue of terrorism (namely: Islamic extremist terrorism), Arabic is prominent to many people's direction and goals. Students who wish to follow careers in politics, international relations, or diplomacy and peace have a significant impetus to study Arabic. For the same reasons, the number of students taking Russian spiked during the cold war, at a time where communication between Russia and the US, the two world superpowers, was necessary for any students with a focus on international politics.
Schools are now, in fact, specifically offering languages in the context whereby they are considered most useful such as "medical Spanish, Chinese for business." The importance of situations to language gives birth to language dominance and imperialism: as languages are considered more important to career paths and international affairs, they are more likely to gain prominence in education. Thus, languages fluctuate: just as when the Roman Empire or Sumeria conquered surrounding territories, the necessity of being able to communicate with prominent cultures puts smaller languages on the backburner. Only in the modern era, physical domination isn't necessary for language imperialism. The societies that create technology, job opportunities, and political change draw constituents away from other languages in the same kind of competitive environment that leads to language imperialism.
article: http://www.guardian.co.uk/worldlatest/story/0,,-7074638,00.html
What accounts for this specific increase? The article hints that "Enrollments in languages such as Russian and Arabic have traditionally spiked with world events." This is a pretty direct hint that languages gain prominence and a need for languages develops as those languages become important to people's direction or goals in life: namely, political and business goals. With the Middle East the current focus of American and international peace efforts, with Iraq the current American overseas military target, and with the political issue of terrorism (namely: Islamic extremist terrorism), Arabic is prominent to many people's direction and goals. Students who wish to follow careers in politics, international relations, or diplomacy and peace have a significant impetus to study Arabic. For the same reasons, the number of students taking Russian spiked during the cold war, at a time where communication between Russia and the US, the two world superpowers, was necessary for any students with a focus on international politics.
Schools are now, in fact, specifically offering languages in the context whereby they are considered most useful such as "medical Spanish, Chinese for business." The importance of situations to language gives birth to language dominance and imperialism: as languages are considered more important to career paths and international affairs, they are more likely to gain prominence in education. Thus, languages fluctuate: just as when the Roman Empire or Sumeria conquered surrounding territories, the necessity of being able to communicate with prominent cultures puts smaller languages on the backburner. Only in the modern era, physical domination isn't necessary for language imperialism. The societies that create technology, job opportunities, and political change draw constituents away from other languages in the same kind of competitive environment that leads to language imperialism.
article: http://www.guardian.co.uk/worldlatest/story/0,,-7074638,00.html
Monday, November 12, 2007
Quebec's Qualms with Questionable (phone option) Queue
Quebec has once again dissolved into a heated language dispute over the use of English vs. French when calling the government. Apparently, Quebecois activists "don't like the fact that people who phone into government offices are given the option of linking to an English menu before they hear French instructions." When they make calls to any government auto-response pickup, the first message says 'Press 9 for English.' Apparently, this is enough to spark off a protest in the province, as "Michel Morin, a French language activist [...] and other activists have been bunkered down in a call centre, calling government and municipal offices demanding changes."
I've written about the language debate in Quebec before, and the issue is a long-contested one between a French majority proclaiming that it is being marginalized and a government trying not to discriminate against other minorities. According to the CIA World Factbook (always a trustworthy source), "Canada faces the political challenges of meeting public demands for quality improvements in health care and education services, as well as responding to separatist concerns in predominantly francophone Quebec." The language division is representational of a pervasive cultural boundary between Quebec and the rest of Canada. The legal dispute is a long-lasting one, according to Wikipedia, which began soon after 1977, with "the Charter of the French Language[, which] was a legal framework defining the linguistic rights of Quebecers, and a language management policy giving the state of Quebec the power to intervene in many sectors of public life to promote French as the common language of all citizens." This Charter gave the Quebecois government a virtually unlimited justification for restricting the use of English in the territory. Although Supreme Court rulings have prevented Quebec from enforcing French as the only language of instruction or commercials, the province has still been making attempts to institutionalize French in schools and enforce a French-only rule for businesses (which came up in a previous post).
The fear is that this will heavily marginalize and maybe even eliminate the English-speaking minority in Quebec, as well as repulse future immigration from non-French speaking cultures. Referring to the issue of French vs. English in government phone responses, "Lobbyists for minority rights in Quebec say they find the entire debate ridiculous. 'These guys have got way too much time on their hands,' anglo-rights lawyer Brent Tyler told the Canadian Press. 'They must be scraping the bottom of the barrel for things to complain about if that's what they're coming up with.' Minority rights groups in the province say they are being increasingly marginalized, and English is in danger of disappearing in Quebec." This fear is legitimized by recent bills introduced to submit new immigrants to language testing and make French a prerequisite for running in any elections.
However, activists "said it's French -- not English -- that is under assault. [They say] that's why [one activist's] group has teamed up with another hardline language group, Imperatif francais, in the campaign to provide French before English on the phone. 'It's urgent because French is declining in Montreal,' [they] said, according to CP. '"For us it's a crucial question, it allows the integration of newcomers to Quebec's common culture.'"
The point that I'm trying to make in this post is that language has become a tool in the fight for cultural supremacy in Quebec. Obviously, language is very important to the inhabitants of the province, but it seems increasingly to be playing a role only as a means of asserting Franco-cultural supremacy. Without language as a divisive trait, would there still be such a conflict between these two parties? Language here is used exclusively as a dividing force, regardless of the claims of French activists. The distinctions drawn between French and English point to an official policy of exclusion, which would be much more difficult to enact without the language differences. Apparently, language here acts as a line to seperate parties into opposing sides, and thus stimulate the conflict in the first place. I would like to posit the notion that, without a language separation, there would be no legal or overarching conflict between the citizens of Quebec. But the irony is that, in the presence of distinct languages, the conflict is only fought over what those language differences signify, not over the language differences themselves. It's as if a group of homosexual people in Quebec wore pink shirts and the majority reacted against that group, not because they wore the shirts, but because they represented a different lifestlye. The majority here isn't reacting against the shirts, but against the people, yet without the shirts, there wouldn't be any identifier to stimulate conflict. The same applies to language: language is not the goal of the Francophile movement, just the tool they use to advance their claims. Yet, without language, it would be impossible to separate people into cultural groups, thus impossible to wage this conflict.
article: http://www.ctv.ca/servlet/ArticleNews/story/CTVNews/20071109/Quebec_language_071109/20071109?hub=Canada
I've written about the language debate in Quebec before, and the issue is a long-contested one between a French majority proclaiming that it is being marginalized and a government trying not to discriminate against other minorities. According to the CIA World Factbook (always a trustworthy source), "Canada faces the political challenges of meeting public demands for quality improvements in health care and education services, as well as responding to separatist concerns in predominantly francophone Quebec." The language division is representational of a pervasive cultural boundary between Quebec and the rest of Canada. The legal dispute is a long-lasting one, according to Wikipedia, which began soon after 1977, with "the Charter of the French Language[, which] was a legal framework defining the linguistic rights of Quebecers, and a language management policy giving the state of Quebec the power to intervene in many sectors of public life to promote French as the common language of all citizens." This Charter gave the Quebecois government a virtually unlimited justification for restricting the use of English in the territory. Although Supreme Court rulings have prevented Quebec from enforcing French as the only language of instruction or commercials, the province has still been making attempts to institutionalize French in schools and enforce a French-only rule for businesses (which came up in a previous post).
The fear is that this will heavily marginalize and maybe even eliminate the English-speaking minority in Quebec, as well as repulse future immigration from non-French speaking cultures. Referring to the issue of French vs. English in government phone responses, "Lobbyists for minority rights in Quebec say they find the entire debate ridiculous. 'These guys have got way too much time on their hands,' anglo-rights lawyer Brent Tyler told the Canadian Press. 'They must be scraping the bottom of the barrel for things to complain about if that's what they're coming up with.' Minority rights groups in the province say they are being increasingly marginalized, and English is in danger of disappearing in Quebec." This fear is legitimized by recent bills introduced to submit new immigrants to language testing and make French a prerequisite for running in any elections.
However, activists "said it's French -- not English -- that is under assault. [They say] that's why [one activist's] group has teamed up with another hardline language group, Imperatif francais, in the campaign to provide French before English on the phone. 'It's urgent because French is declining in Montreal,' [they] said, according to CP. '"For us it's a crucial question, it allows the integration of newcomers to Quebec's common culture.'"
The point that I'm trying to make in this post is that language has become a tool in the fight for cultural supremacy in Quebec. Obviously, language is very important to the inhabitants of the province, but it seems increasingly to be playing a role only as a means of asserting Franco-cultural supremacy. Without language as a divisive trait, would there still be such a conflict between these two parties? Language here is used exclusively as a dividing force, regardless of the claims of French activists. The distinctions drawn between French and English point to an official policy of exclusion, which would be much more difficult to enact without the language differences. Apparently, language here acts as a line to seperate parties into opposing sides, and thus stimulate the conflict in the first place. I would like to posit the notion that, without a language separation, there would be no legal or overarching conflict between the citizens of Quebec. But the irony is that, in the presence of distinct languages, the conflict is only fought over what those language differences signify, not over the language differences themselves. It's as if a group of homosexual people in Quebec wore pink shirts and the majority reacted against that group, not because they wore the shirts, but because they represented a different lifestlye. The majority here isn't reacting against the shirts, but against the people, yet without the shirts, there wouldn't be any identifier to stimulate conflict. The same applies to language: language is not the goal of the Francophile movement, just the tool they use to advance their claims. Yet, without language, it would be impossible to separate people into cultural groups, thus impossible to wage this conflict.
article: http://www.ctv.ca/servlet/ArticleNews/story/CTVNews/20071109/Quebec_language_071109/20071109?hub=Canada
Wednesday, November 7, 2007
Rushin' in the Russian
Sorry about the bad pun.
My article for this post is on Russia's official pressure on Latvia to make Russian an official language in the Baltic territory. "We believe that we are justified in pushing to have the status of the Russian language in Latvia raised to the level of a state language," said Alexander Chepurin, the head of the ministry's department on relations with the Russian diaspora. The diplomat said Latvia, where native Russian speakers account for at least 30% of the population, is the only ex-Soviet state to treat Russian as a foreign language.
Of what importance is it to Russia that a former Soviet territory doesn't acknowledge Russian as a state language? The two possibilities are that this conflict is either an attempt by the Russian government to protect Russians in foreign nations or an attempt to maintain Russian prevalence in an dominance of Eastern European territory after the dissolution of the Soviet Union. Language can be a strongly unifying or strongly isolating and divisive force. By forcing Latvia to accept Russian as a state language, it is unclear whether the motive is to create unity between the majority of Latvians and the 30% minority, or to create a unifying feeling of Latvians to Russia.
Russia has a case to make for defending the Russian minority against an oppressive majority population. According to the article, "Moscow has repeatedly accused ex-Soviet Baltic states Latvia and Estonia of discrimination against their Russian-speaking minorities [...] Many people from the large ethnic Russian population in Latvia and Estonia have been assigned "non-citizen" status, which denies them a national passport and other rights, and prevents them from voting. The CIA World Factbook also states that "Russia demands better Latvian treatment of ethnic Russians in Latvia" in the section about Latvia's transnational issues. Though ethnic Russians are the second largest ethnic group (after Latvians at 57.7% of the population), they still constitute a minority (albeit one significantly larger than any other ethnic minority). Different languages strongly divide these ethnic groups, as 58.2% of the population speak Latvian, whereas 37.5% speak russian, yet Latvian is the only language listed as an official one. By making Russian an official language, the Latvian government would be acknowledging the existence of a significant ethnic population and 'legitimizing' their status as citizens through doing so. Also, "as a member state that forms part of the EU's external border, Latvia must implement the strict Schengen border rules with Russia," meaning that Latvia must restrict immigration from Russia without passports, which it doesn't do with EU Schengen nations, thus making it appear that Russians are a foreign ethnic group rather than a domestic one.
However, there are also perceived dangers to Latvian sovereignty and independence that come from authorizing Russian as an official language. By accepting such a large ethnic minority as an official group of nationals, Latvia would be strengthening Russian influence in society, and thus making it easier for Russia to make a case for having an increased influence over Latvian foreign and internal affairs. "Russia refuses to sign the 1997 boundary treaty due to Latvian insistence on a unilateral clarificatory declaration referencing Soviet occupation of Latvia and territorial losses," according to the CIA World Factbook, which legitimizes Latvian fears that this move is an attempt to maintain a strong Russian presence in Latvian affairs. "The Baltic nations, now EU and NATO members, deem the Soviet Union's annexation of their territories to have been an illegal occupation," according to the article.
Thus, through defining an official language, Latvia is pursuing a political tactic to prevent recurring foreign domination within her borders, whereas Russia is attempting to legitimize a language as official in order to prevent discrimination against an ethnic minority. Language is obviously both a very strong unifying and divisive force.
My article for this post is on Russia's official pressure on Latvia to make Russian an official language in the Baltic territory. "We believe that we are justified in pushing to have the status of the Russian language in Latvia raised to the level of a state language," said Alexander Chepurin, the head of the ministry's department on relations with the Russian diaspora. The diplomat said Latvia, where native Russian speakers account for at least 30% of the population, is the only ex-Soviet state to treat Russian as a foreign language.
Of what importance is it to Russia that a former Soviet territory doesn't acknowledge Russian as a state language? The two possibilities are that this conflict is either an attempt by the Russian government to protect Russians in foreign nations or an attempt to maintain Russian prevalence in an dominance of Eastern European territory after the dissolution of the Soviet Union. Language can be a strongly unifying or strongly isolating and divisive force. By forcing Latvia to accept Russian as a state language, it is unclear whether the motive is to create unity between the majority of Latvians and the 30% minority, or to create a unifying feeling of Latvians to Russia.
Russia has a case to make for defending the Russian minority against an oppressive majority population. According to the article, "Moscow has repeatedly accused ex-Soviet Baltic states Latvia and Estonia of discrimination against their Russian-speaking minorities [...] Many people from the large ethnic Russian population in Latvia and Estonia have been assigned "non-citizen" status, which denies them a national passport and other rights, and prevents them from voting. The CIA World Factbook also states that "Russia demands better Latvian treatment of ethnic Russians in Latvia" in the section about Latvia's transnational issues. Though ethnic Russians are the second largest ethnic group (after Latvians at 57.7% of the population), they still constitute a minority (albeit one significantly larger than any other ethnic minority). Different languages strongly divide these ethnic groups, as 58.2% of the population speak Latvian, whereas 37.5% speak russian, yet Latvian is the only language listed as an official one. By making Russian an official language, the Latvian government would be acknowledging the existence of a significant ethnic population and 'legitimizing' their status as citizens through doing so. Also, "as a member state that forms part of the EU's external border, Latvia must implement the strict Schengen border rules with Russia," meaning that Latvia must restrict immigration from Russia without passports, which it doesn't do with EU Schengen nations, thus making it appear that Russians are a foreign ethnic group rather than a domestic one.
However, there are also perceived dangers to Latvian sovereignty and independence that come from authorizing Russian as an official language. By accepting such a large ethnic minority as an official group of nationals, Latvia would be strengthening Russian influence in society, and thus making it easier for Russia to make a case for having an increased influence over Latvian foreign and internal affairs. "Russia refuses to sign the 1997 boundary treaty due to Latvian insistence on a unilateral clarificatory declaration referencing Soviet occupation of Latvia and territorial losses," according to the CIA World Factbook, which legitimizes Latvian fears that this move is an attempt to maintain a strong Russian presence in Latvian affairs. "The Baltic nations, now EU and NATO members, deem the Soviet Union's annexation of their territories to have been an illegal occupation," according to the article.
Thus, through defining an official language, Latvia is pursuing a political tactic to prevent recurring foreign domination within her borders, whereas Russia is attempting to legitimize a language as official in order to prevent discrimination against an ethnic minority. Language is obviously both a very strong unifying and divisive force.
Monday, November 5, 2007
The Language of Politics
The article I read for this post talked about George Orwell's idea that better writing can create a better society, one of the aspects of which would be clearer, more honest political speech. The writer, Nicholas Lemann, ( http://newshopper.sulekha.com/news/2007/11/l-a-times-op-ed-the-limits-of-language.htm ), states that "The primary villain in 'Politics and the English Language' [Orwell's essay] is the kind of fancy, pretentious, imprecise prose usually purveyed by intellectuals [...] Orwell issues a blanket condemnation of all use of abstractions in political discussion -- such words as 'democracy,' 'justice,' 'science,' 'class' and 'equality.'" Lemann then applies Orwell's ideas to recent topics, suchs as the War in Iraq: "The words used to denote something the government does should have to do with the activity itself, not the values it is meant to embody or the feelings it is meant to activate. The war in Iraq, yes; Operation Enduring Freedom, no."
This is a very valid point. By changing the language and labels of events or organizations, politicians can create an inherent bias that sways people in favor or against a certain view. This concept works hand-in-hand with the Sapir-Whorf Hypothesis, which states that the language a person speaks is directly related to how that person thinks and understands the world, and thus how he behaves in the world. The hypothesis itself is stated by Edward Sapir as follows: "Human beings do not live in the objective world alone, nor alone in the world of social activity as ordinarily understood, but are very much at the mercy of the particular language which has become the medium of expression for their society [...] The fact of the matter is that the 'real world' is to a large extent unconsciously built upon the language habits of the group. No two languages are ever sufficiently similar to be considered as representing the same social reality. [...] We see and hear and otherwise experience very largely as we do because the language habits of our community predispose certain choices of interpretation." (from http://www.aber.ac.uk/media/Documents/short/whorf.html ). This 'prisonbox' concept of language is very unpopular, and has received a lot of criticism from academics. However, there are empirical examples that support the idea that different languages influence people to think differently, such as the ones we have discussed in class. By grouping different pots and pans together in different ways, for instance, Russians and Americans understand these categorizations and the uses of said pots and pans differently. The same applies to the stereotype of inuits having many words for snow: their ability to differentiate types of snow determines their reality. For instance, an English speaker caught ina blizzard may always go through the same thought process of how to adapt (eg: this is a blizzard -> find direction -> find shelter -> stay warm -> don't break a sweat). However, inuits may have completely different thought processes based on the type of snow they are encountering (eg: this is snow type 13 -> head south -> dig a hole in the north face of a hill -> stay there until snow 13 is over or subsides to snow 12).
An example of the Sapir-Whorf Hypothesis can even be found in literature, and most notably in Orwell's literature ( http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sapir-Whorf_hypothesis ), "George Orwell's classic novel Nineteen Eighty-Four is a striking example of linguistic determinism and linguistic relativity in fiction, in which a language known as Newspeak has trimmed and supplanted Modern English. In this case, Orwell says that if humans cannot form the words to express the ideas underlying a revolution, then they cannot revolt. All of the theory of Newspeak is aimed at eliminating such words. For example, bad has been replaced by ungood, and the concept of freedom has been eliminated over time. According to Nineteen Eighty-Four's appendix on Newspeak, the result of the adoption of the language would be that "a heretical thought ... should be literally unthinkable, at least so far as thought is dependent on words."
There are more examples of this in modern-day politics. Pro-abortion people call themselves “pro-choice” and anti-abortion “pro-life”. This plays into our values: as living beings, we value life, and with free wills, we value choice. But you won’t find people labeling themselves ‘anti-life’ or ‘anti-choice.’ Thus, going back to the idea of the article, there is a visible trend in politics (and there has been since democratic choice was introduced into politics) to label things according to values. In Orwell's "1984," there was a Ministry of Truth committed to disinformation and a Ministry of Peace dedicated to waging war. Scarily enough, we can observe that in the US too, where we have a Department of Justice (even though there are decisions which are overturned as 'unjust') and a Department of Homeland Security (which extends to pre-emptive strikes on other nations rather than being confined to national defense).
Lemman concludes that "an even more frightening political prospect than the corruption of language is the corruption of information [...] Intellectual honesty about the gathering and use of facts and data is a riskier and more precious part of a free society than is intellectual honesty in language. We ought to guard it with the same zeal that animates Orwell's work on political speech." Though this is a valid concern, information itself can be changed by the speech used to present it. For instance, there is a definite difference between labeling killed soldiers in Iraq as 'casualties,' 'wounded,' 'dead,' 'murdered,' or 'fallen.' The labeling changes the information, even if it can imply the same thing. Thus, I believe that it is necessary we pay close attention to language in order to prevent it from affecting both our perception and information.
This is a very valid point. By changing the language and labels of events or organizations, politicians can create an inherent bias that sways people in favor or against a certain view. This concept works hand-in-hand with the Sapir-Whorf Hypothesis, which states that the language a person speaks is directly related to how that person thinks and understands the world, and thus how he behaves in the world. The hypothesis itself is stated by Edward Sapir as follows: "Human beings do not live in the objective world alone, nor alone in the world of social activity as ordinarily understood, but are very much at the mercy of the particular language which has become the medium of expression for their society [...] The fact of the matter is that the 'real world' is to a large extent unconsciously built upon the language habits of the group. No two languages are ever sufficiently similar to be considered as representing the same social reality. [...] We see and hear and otherwise experience very largely as we do because the language habits of our community predispose certain choices of interpretation." (from http://www.aber.ac.uk/media/Documents/short/whorf.html ). This 'prisonbox' concept of language is very unpopular, and has received a lot of criticism from academics. However, there are empirical examples that support the idea that different languages influence people to think differently, such as the ones we have discussed in class. By grouping different pots and pans together in different ways, for instance, Russians and Americans understand these categorizations and the uses of said pots and pans differently. The same applies to the stereotype of inuits having many words for snow: their ability to differentiate types of snow determines their reality. For instance, an English speaker caught ina blizzard may always go through the same thought process of how to adapt (eg: this is a blizzard -> find direction -> find shelter -> stay warm -> don't break a sweat). However, inuits may have completely different thought processes based on the type of snow they are encountering (eg: this is snow type 13 -> head south -> dig a hole in the north face of a hill -> stay there until snow 13 is over or subsides to snow 12).
An example of the Sapir-Whorf Hypothesis can even be found in literature, and most notably in Orwell's literature ( http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sapir-Whorf_hypothesis ), "George Orwell's classic novel Nineteen Eighty-Four is a striking example of linguistic determinism and linguistic relativity in fiction, in which a language known as Newspeak has trimmed and supplanted Modern English. In this case, Orwell says that if humans cannot form the words to express the ideas underlying a revolution, then they cannot revolt. All of the theory of Newspeak is aimed at eliminating such words. For example, bad has been replaced by ungood, and the concept of freedom has been eliminated over time. According to Nineteen Eighty-Four's appendix on Newspeak, the result of the adoption of the language would be that "a heretical thought ... should be literally unthinkable, at least so far as thought is dependent on words."
There are more examples of this in modern-day politics. Pro-abortion people call themselves “pro-choice” and anti-abortion “pro-life”. This plays into our values: as living beings, we value life, and with free wills, we value choice. But you won’t find people labeling themselves ‘anti-life’ or ‘anti-choice.’ Thus, going back to the idea of the article, there is a visible trend in politics (and there has been since democratic choice was introduced into politics) to label things according to values. In Orwell's "1984," there was a Ministry of Truth committed to disinformation and a Ministry of Peace dedicated to waging war. Scarily enough, we can observe that in the US too, where we have a Department of Justice (even though there are decisions which are overturned as 'unjust') and a Department of Homeland Security (which extends to pre-emptive strikes on other nations rather than being confined to national defense).
Lemman concludes that "an even more frightening political prospect than the corruption of language is the corruption of information [...] Intellectual honesty about the gathering and use of facts and data is a riskier and more precious part of a free society than is intellectual honesty in language. We ought to guard it with the same zeal that animates Orwell's work on political speech." Though this is a valid concern, information itself can be changed by the speech used to present it. For instance, there is a definite difference between labeling killed soldiers in Iraq as 'casualties,' 'wounded,' 'dead,' 'murdered,' or 'fallen.' The labeling changes the information, even if it can imply the same thing. Thus, I believe that it is necessary we pay close attention to language in order to prevent it from affecting both our perception and information.
Thursday, November 1, 2007
The Right Language
The article that I found interesting in this new round of Google Alerts didn't really have to do much with language itself. The article pertained to a Malaysian poet who was considering releasing his drawings in a book with his poetry. As the article said, "For him, it’s a matter of finding the right “language” with which to express himself. 'Drawing and writing are just ways of externalising thoughts and ideas,' he says." Though this initially seemed like it wasn't very fruitful for writing a blog post, it got me thinking about what exactly constitutes language for us.
Obviously, the poet espouses the idea that visual imagery as well as writing can equally express our thoughts. According to Wikipedia (always a reliable source), a language is "a system, used to communicate, comprised of a set of symbols and a set of rules (or grammar) by which the manipulation of these symbols is governed." This points to the idea of a standard language construct, which creates a regulated system for communication. Another definition that points to such a concept of language is IBM's definition: "A set of characters, phonemes, conventions, and rules used for conveying information."
Other definitions point to language exclusively as something affiliated with speech, writing, or hand-sign communication, such as the University of Oulu: "Any means of conveying or communicating ideas; specifically, human speech; the expression of ideas by the voice; sounds, expressive of thought, articulated by the organs of the throat and mouth" or the English Learning for Preschoolers Project: "The human use of spoken or written words as a communication system. Language can also include a system of communication based on signs, gestures, or inarticulate sounds."
My question is whether it is possible to define language in a way that allows for a more amorphous conception of what language really is. Does the drawing of pictures really constitute language, or are drawings never as fully expressive as writing? Also, does language need a structure or system for it to be a language? I wish to look at two aspects of language here: the structure of language and the expressiveness of language.
I think that it is possible to create a hierarchy of language according to structure. The most structured languages would probably be those designed for computers and programming: these are designed with a specific set of rules for a specific set of functions and cannot contain any ambiguities (such as synonyms or homonyms). An example would be binary or HTML. Though these languages are very structured, I do not think they are as expressive as spoken language, because these languages only relate to the specific programming functions for which they are designed; they are contained within their essence: computers. After that on the hierarchy, I would put spoken and signed languages. These themselves do not constitute a point on the hierarchy, but a broad spectrum. There are more and less systematically structured languages (eg: Esperanto vs. Hopi, respectively), which may be simpler in their verb structure, grammar, noun-adjective differentiation.... These languages are lower than programming ones on the hierarchy because they contain ambiguities and they do not follow a strict structure. For instance, one word can mean multiple things in a language, and words don't always have to follow strict patterns (eg: irregular verb endings). I think it is easy to conclude that these languages are obviously more expressive than programming languages, as they attempt to allow a means of communicating all of human experience. Lastly on the hierarchy, I would put abstract languages, such as artistic ones (like drawing, music, or dance), which may contain the expression of ideas without actually using a language structure. These are obviously the most unstructured language, but in order to communicate, they still refer to symbols (if not a set of symbols) in order to convey their ideas. Obviously, there is also a spectrum here between realism and abstract art (a picture of a tree is a more effective communication of the idea of a tree than a canvas of smeared paint blotches). These languages would fit the definition given by the University of the State of New York: "A symbolic form of communication-perhaps the most important feature of a culture." I think it is possible to embrace a more amorphous conception of language. I also believe that these 'language' types are the most expressive of any language type. While traditional spoken languages confine people to a set or system of thought expression, artistic language does not contain rules to bind how ideas can be expressed. Thus, any idea is transferable in an artistic form even if there isn't an established way to phrase that idea. The only problem is that communication of that idea may not come across to the audience.
But I think that it is possible to conclude that, as this hierarchy shows, there is an inverse relationship between the structure of a language and the expressiveness of a language.
Obviously, the poet espouses the idea that visual imagery as well as writing can equally express our thoughts. According to Wikipedia (always a reliable source), a language is "a system, used to communicate, comprised of a set of symbols and a set of rules (or grammar) by which the manipulation of these symbols is governed." This points to the idea of a standard language construct, which creates a regulated system for communication. Another definition that points to such a concept of language is IBM's definition: "A set of characters, phonemes, conventions, and rules used for conveying information."
Other definitions point to language exclusively as something affiliated with speech, writing, or hand-sign communication, such as the University of Oulu: "Any means of conveying or communicating ideas; specifically, human speech; the expression of ideas by the voice; sounds, expressive of thought, articulated by the organs of the throat and mouth" or the English Learning for Preschoolers Project: "The human use of spoken or written words as a communication system. Language can also include a system of communication based on signs, gestures, or inarticulate sounds."
My question is whether it is possible to define language in a way that allows for a more amorphous conception of what language really is. Does the drawing of pictures really constitute language, or are drawings never as fully expressive as writing? Also, does language need a structure or system for it to be a language? I wish to look at two aspects of language here: the structure of language and the expressiveness of language.
I think that it is possible to create a hierarchy of language according to structure. The most structured languages would probably be those designed for computers and programming: these are designed with a specific set of rules for a specific set of functions and cannot contain any ambiguities (such as synonyms or homonyms). An example would be binary or HTML. Though these languages are very structured, I do not think they are as expressive as spoken language, because these languages only relate to the specific programming functions for which they are designed; they are contained within their essence: computers. After that on the hierarchy, I would put spoken and signed languages. These themselves do not constitute a point on the hierarchy, but a broad spectrum. There are more and less systematically structured languages (eg: Esperanto vs. Hopi, respectively), which may be simpler in their verb structure, grammar, noun-adjective differentiation.... These languages are lower than programming ones on the hierarchy because they contain ambiguities and they do not follow a strict structure. For instance, one word can mean multiple things in a language, and words don't always have to follow strict patterns (eg: irregular verb endings). I think it is easy to conclude that these languages are obviously more expressive than programming languages, as they attempt to allow a means of communicating all of human experience. Lastly on the hierarchy, I would put abstract languages, such as artistic ones (like drawing, music, or dance), which may contain the expression of ideas without actually using a language structure. These are obviously the most unstructured language, but in order to communicate, they still refer to symbols (if not a set of symbols) in order to convey their ideas. Obviously, there is also a spectrum here between realism and abstract art (a picture of a tree is a more effective communication of the idea of a tree than a canvas of smeared paint blotches). These languages would fit the definition given by the University of the State of New York: "A symbolic form of communication-perhaps the most important feature of a culture." I think it is possible to embrace a more amorphous conception of language. I also believe that these 'language' types are the most expressive of any language type. While traditional spoken languages confine people to a set or system of thought expression, artistic language does not contain rules to bind how ideas can be expressed. Thus, any idea is transferable in an artistic form even if there isn't an established way to phrase that idea. The only problem is that communication of that idea may not come across to the audience.
But I think that it is possible to conclude that, as this hierarchy shows, there is an inverse relationship between the structure of a language and the expressiveness of a language.
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