Linguistic Relativity
This is one of my favorite topics of all time. Linguistic Relativity in its more common form states that language limits the way we think. And when you think about it, it seems to make a lot of sense. After all, all of your thoughts are likely using words in your language.
Then, a bunch of linguists, rightly, said that is a load of phooey. But, the problem is, then they went on just totally dismissing the theory in it's entirety. And that, is not right.
You see, I believe the strict form of linguistic relativity is easily disprovable. After all, any word or concept in a language had a point in time when it didn't exist. And every learner of a language had a point in time when that word or concept was unknown to them. Their existing, limited language, should forbid them from mastering that concept or word, shouldn't it?
And, I can take a word of a concept from another language, and while I may not be able to translate that into a similar number of words in another language, I can still express it's meaning in another language. I watched a Ted Talk where a speaker attempted to explain a Farsi term which he describe as a "deep humility". He didn't use a dictionary like definition. He described an encounter between two individuals as a representative example. In English. So, while I still have no word in English which is it's equivalent, I have an understanding of the word. And, I could always just use THAT word from Farsi. What is important is not the sound of word, but rather that the understanding of the word or concept is reasonably similar to both the speaker and listener.
I mean, at the end of the day, you could have two native Farsi speakers in the audience and one might say that the example was perfect, and another might feel it is totally flawed, but understand where the speaker is coming from. Which is to say, the meaning of that word isn't even constant amongst speakers of Farsi. For each speaker, every word in your language has a different set of associations, feelings, and meanings. Even when two people would use the exact same words to describe a term, there is no guarantee that their perceptions are identical. In fact, they are almost definitely not.
So. Have I just destroyed the concept of linguistic relativity? Yes and no. If you believe the limit is strict, I feel like that is the bit we can and maybe have debunked. But effectively? I totally think the effect is real.
Human beings are, in many ways, not so different from other animals. Our primary goal is survival. And, because we evolved in much harsher conditions where resources were much stricter, we have evolved, like most animals an inclination to do a reasonable approximation of the least amount required to reach our goals.
The average human stops learning at any real scale the second they find a career. Some even before that. What learning a language has taught me is simple; I haven't REALLY learned anything in FAR longer than I can remember. I maybe tried a little bit in university. The later years of school was mostly spoon fed information we were expected to memorize, NOT learn. Yes, memorization is a part of learning. But it is the least part of it, and it isn't learning if that is as far as you take it.
What this means? Well, when was the last time you really increased your vocabulary? Probably not on any measurable level since what? Elementary school? You are, right now, more than likely thinking 99% of the times in words you've known since you were 10-13. You then slowly refined how you used them until you were say, 16-18. And, pretty much all of your thoughts can be contained by what you learned in that timeframe. Sure, you probably added some lingo specific to your field. But, that lingo all told would likely fit on a cheat sheet and take less than a week to learn to completion. It is a drop in the bucket.
But, it doesn't end there. Simply limiting our bank of words isn't where our survival instincts kick in and say "seriously, stop investing in that". When we speak, we look for the quickest, most simplistic words or terms which can encapsulate what we want to think or convey. Even where we have more accurate, more detailed words, we tend to stick to what feels easiest. We don't even operate AT our current boundaries. We will almost exclusively operate inside a little bubble of our linguistic knowledge. Our linguistic comfort zone.
Creating new words, or adding new words and concepts from other languages requires us to get out of that comfort zone, and after that, out of the realm of all of the things we already know. It isn't that we CAN'T do it. We simply choose not too. But, when so many of us live this way, isn't it still fair to say that the concept is still valid for most intents and purposes. I'm going to experience my world at the level of depth I'm comfortable with. And, my language TOTALLY has an impact on what that level is.
A quick example. Some native tribes in Northern Canada have a multitude of words for snow which describe things like density, moisture, etc.... Snow is crucial to daily life for these people and snow which might be bad to say build an igloo in, or run dogs on top of are critically important things to differentiate. To the point where, culturally, it is important to recognize and describe the snow accordingly.
I could explain this concept to someone from Arizona. And I could probably make them even understand the differences in some way. But, all of these comparisons are relative to each other. And a person who lives in a place which rarely ever experiences snow fall they would likely just forget the meanings. And even if they remembered them all, they wouldn't likely be able to identify them. And they likely wouldn't give a shit. But, that indigenous Canadian can't so much as look at snow without seeing the difference. The words for the different types of snow are a part of that comfort zone for those people. And, when they reach for comparisons, they might compare and contrast using those snow words rather than typically descriptions. And that may, in some cases, result in seeing something else in a way which is effectively inaccessible without that.
Learning a language has also taught me to identify what real learning looks like and what procrastination looks like. My daughter, she makes a mistake and she tries again. I tell her she is wrong, she doesn't get angry. Failure is a totally natural part of life to a person who is still learning.
My wife, she recently decided to start learning Japanese with me. She basically studied a few flash cards during a road trip home. I asked how it was going about 2 weeks later, and was basically told she wasn't putting a lot of effort into it. I left it alone for another week or so and asked again, she admitted she hadn't really done any more since our road trip. She has repeated numerous times that she hates feeling stupid. Maybe next time I ask she'll tell me she doesn't see a reason. Maybe she'll say it isn't her strong suit.
She'll tell me, as I would have before this experience, and as likely everyone I know would, that she is still learning things. But, if a few hours worth of practicing of Hiragana is enough to crush your morale, it tells me, you're not learning. Or at least not at any worthwhile pace. Humans learn best through failure. And second best through application, which, should in the early stages lead to plenty of failure.
If, in just a few hours of practicing something you were able to convince yourself you wanted to do enough to get started with in the first place is enough derail your motivation, I would be willing to bet you haven't really learned much more than a handful of new lingo in a very long time.
Do I feel stupid? Every single day since I started learning Japanese. Without fail. To quote a piece of a song I've been listening to (totally out of context :) ): 繰り返す きっと、ずっと。"Repeatedly, assuredly, all the time". But, here is the secret. Once you start doing it again, you realize why kids can stick with it long enough to become productive members of society. The value you get when you conquer those failures is FAR greater than frustration of the defeats.
As for linguistic relativity. I've found learning a new language expands my comfort zone in both languages. I haven't yet discovered something I couldn't wrap up in my head in English terms. But, different languages use similar words in slightly different contexts or to slightly different ends. And other words and concepts are used more commonly in Japanese than in English. For instance, I rarely used the word nostalgic in the past. But 懐かしい is so common in Japanese that a lot of times I'll experience something and think 懐かしい when the English word doesn't fit very well, but I'll also find myself think of something as being nostalgic much more often.
So, while I'm not explicitly bound by language, I can see that I have been and still am pragmatically bound by what words are in my comfort zone and the depth of the meaning of those words. I rarely seek to explain or even see the world in terms of words not in that inner-circle of linguistics.
In my opinion, that is strong enough to say that linguistic relativity is real enough at a level which matters even if the stricter part seems like nonsense.
Then, a bunch of linguists, rightly, said that is a load of phooey. But, the problem is, then they went on just totally dismissing the theory in it's entirety. And that, is not right.
You see, I believe the strict form of linguistic relativity is easily disprovable. After all, any word or concept in a language had a point in time when it didn't exist. And every learner of a language had a point in time when that word or concept was unknown to them. Their existing, limited language, should forbid them from mastering that concept or word, shouldn't it?
And, I can take a word of a concept from another language, and while I may not be able to translate that into a similar number of words in another language, I can still express it's meaning in another language. I watched a Ted Talk where a speaker attempted to explain a Farsi term which he describe as a "deep humility". He didn't use a dictionary like definition. He described an encounter between two individuals as a representative example. In English. So, while I still have no word in English which is it's equivalent, I have an understanding of the word. And, I could always just use THAT word from Farsi. What is important is not the sound of word, but rather that the understanding of the word or concept is reasonably similar to both the speaker and listener.
I mean, at the end of the day, you could have two native Farsi speakers in the audience and one might say that the example was perfect, and another might feel it is totally flawed, but understand where the speaker is coming from. Which is to say, the meaning of that word isn't even constant amongst speakers of Farsi. For each speaker, every word in your language has a different set of associations, feelings, and meanings. Even when two people would use the exact same words to describe a term, there is no guarantee that their perceptions are identical. In fact, they are almost definitely not.
So. Have I just destroyed the concept of linguistic relativity? Yes and no. If you believe the limit is strict, I feel like that is the bit we can and maybe have debunked. But effectively? I totally think the effect is real.
Human beings are, in many ways, not so different from other animals. Our primary goal is survival. And, because we evolved in much harsher conditions where resources were much stricter, we have evolved, like most animals an inclination to do a reasonable approximation of the least amount required to reach our goals.
The average human stops learning at any real scale the second they find a career. Some even before that. What learning a language has taught me is simple; I haven't REALLY learned anything in FAR longer than I can remember. I maybe tried a little bit in university. The later years of school was mostly spoon fed information we were expected to memorize, NOT learn. Yes, memorization is a part of learning. But it is the least part of it, and it isn't learning if that is as far as you take it.
What this means? Well, when was the last time you really increased your vocabulary? Probably not on any measurable level since what? Elementary school? You are, right now, more than likely thinking 99% of the times in words you've known since you were 10-13. You then slowly refined how you used them until you were say, 16-18. And, pretty much all of your thoughts can be contained by what you learned in that timeframe. Sure, you probably added some lingo specific to your field. But, that lingo all told would likely fit on a cheat sheet and take less than a week to learn to completion. It is a drop in the bucket.
But, it doesn't end there. Simply limiting our bank of words isn't where our survival instincts kick in and say "seriously, stop investing in that". When we speak, we look for the quickest, most simplistic words or terms which can encapsulate what we want to think or convey. Even where we have more accurate, more detailed words, we tend to stick to what feels easiest. We don't even operate AT our current boundaries. We will almost exclusively operate inside a little bubble of our linguistic knowledge. Our linguistic comfort zone.
Creating new words, or adding new words and concepts from other languages requires us to get out of that comfort zone, and after that, out of the realm of all of the things we already know. It isn't that we CAN'T do it. We simply choose not too. But, when so many of us live this way, isn't it still fair to say that the concept is still valid for most intents and purposes. I'm going to experience my world at the level of depth I'm comfortable with. And, my language TOTALLY has an impact on what that level is.
A quick example. Some native tribes in Northern Canada have a multitude of words for snow which describe things like density, moisture, etc.... Snow is crucial to daily life for these people and snow which might be bad to say build an igloo in, or run dogs on top of are critically important things to differentiate. To the point where, culturally, it is important to recognize and describe the snow accordingly.
I could explain this concept to someone from Arizona. And I could probably make them even understand the differences in some way. But, all of these comparisons are relative to each other. And a person who lives in a place which rarely ever experiences snow fall they would likely just forget the meanings. And even if they remembered them all, they wouldn't likely be able to identify them. And they likely wouldn't give a shit. But, that indigenous Canadian can't so much as look at snow without seeing the difference. The words for the different types of snow are a part of that comfort zone for those people. And, when they reach for comparisons, they might compare and contrast using those snow words rather than typically descriptions. And that may, in some cases, result in seeing something else in a way which is effectively inaccessible without that.
Learning a language has also taught me to identify what real learning looks like and what procrastination looks like. My daughter, she makes a mistake and she tries again. I tell her she is wrong, she doesn't get angry. Failure is a totally natural part of life to a person who is still learning.
My wife, she recently decided to start learning Japanese with me. She basically studied a few flash cards during a road trip home. I asked how it was going about 2 weeks later, and was basically told she wasn't putting a lot of effort into it. I left it alone for another week or so and asked again, she admitted she hadn't really done any more since our road trip. She has repeated numerous times that she hates feeling stupid. Maybe next time I ask she'll tell me she doesn't see a reason. Maybe she'll say it isn't her strong suit.
She'll tell me, as I would have before this experience, and as likely everyone I know would, that she is still learning things. But, if a few hours worth of practicing of Hiragana is enough to crush your morale, it tells me, you're not learning. Or at least not at any worthwhile pace. Humans learn best through failure. And second best through application, which, should in the early stages lead to plenty of failure.
If, in just a few hours of practicing something you were able to convince yourself you wanted to do enough to get started with in the first place is enough derail your motivation, I would be willing to bet you haven't really learned much more than a handful of new lingo in a very long time.
Do I feel stupid? Every single day since I started learning Japanese. Without fail. To quote a piece of a song I've been listening to (totally out of context :) ): 繰り返す きっと、ずっと。"Repeatedly, assuredly, all the time". But, here is the secret. Once you start doing it again, you realize why kids can stick with it long enough to become productive members of society. The value you get when you conquer those failures is FAR greater than frustration of the defeats.
As for linguistic relativity. I've found learning a new language expands my comfort zone in both languages. I haven't yet discovered something I couldn't wrap up in my head in English terms. But, different languages use similar words in slightly different contexts or to slightly different ends. And other words and concepts are used more commonly in Japanese than in English. For instance, I rarely used the word nostalgic in the past. But 懐かしい is so common in Japanese that a lot of times I'll experience something and think 懐かしい when the English word doesn't fit very well, but I'll also find myself think of something as being nostalgic much more often.
So, while I'm not explicitly bound by language, I can see that I have been and still am pragmatically bound by what words are in my comfort zone and the depth of the meaning of those words. I rarely seek to explain or even see the world in terms of words not in that inner-circle of linguistics.
In my opinion, that is strong enough to say that linguistic relativity is real enough at a level which matters even if the stricter part seems like nonsense.
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