Linguistic relativism explained

Hello everyone,

Today I would like to discuss one of the most stunning powers of language. Why? Because it can really make a difference in the way you approach your own learning process and help you deepen your appreciation of the language you're learning. If you’re reading this post you’re likely to be an advanced student and, therefore, are already equipped with the tools that will allow you to value the relevance of a topic that I already touched on just some weeks ago on this blog (October 3): the relationship between languages and thoughts.

The old controversy over linguistic relativism has not been solved yet. Proponents of a radical form of this theory hold that a person’s mother tongue shapes their thoughts and dramatically affects their worldview. On the other end of the spectrum we find those who believe that a language is just one of the multiple ingredients that make up a person's cultural environment and that it’s the actual culture that defines their worldview. As is often the case, the answer to the problem lies somewhere in between.

The way I see it, speaking a particular language DOES indeed affect certain perceptions and therefore our very thought processes. In my experience as a teacher, STEM students tend to be skeptical of this critical fact. They usually tell me that a desk is a desk, no matter how you choose to name it. Shakespeare would have agreed with them (“a rose by any other name would smell as sweet”). Of course, I will reply that the word desk clearly covers more semantic ground in English than pupitre does in Spanish. Bear with me for a second.

According to the authoritative Merriam-Webster dictionary, a desk is "a table, counter, stand or booth at which a person works". Think about it: a desk is a table (in an architect's studio), a counter (in the reception area of a hotel: the front desk), a stand in a trade fair or even a simple booth in an office. Unfortunately the term pupitre is a lot more specific. It only describes the small table that one usually finds in a classroom. This means that the ability of the label desk to evoke other meanings is far greater in English, since it opens up new possibilities for wordplay, allusion, etc. And that is just one word. Imagine what happens when you consider every word in your dictionary... And then, of course, there's the grammar. If you say "I made a new friend" in English we listeners can't possibly know if the friend you refer to is a man or a woman. In Spanish, though, you would be forced to specify that piece of information. So the ambiguity is lost.

For the record, I agree that a speaker’s culture (I use “culture” in its anthropological sense) also plays a major role in the construction of a person’s worldview but we should not downplay the key influence of our mother tongue.

For what it’s worth, here you have a video which lists some simple but eye-opening examples of the ways a language affects how you perceive (i.e. translate) the reality outside of your skull. It’s most definitely food for thought.

Details do matter

Poor language skills can have fatal consequences. As you may remember, the bungee-jumping accident that occurred in Cabezón de la Sal in the summer of 2015 proves that a good command of English is sometimes necessary to avoid dangerous misunderstandings. The Spanish instructor who was in charge of securing the jumpers spoke what can charitably be described as not very good English. According to the ruling of the appeals court that handled the case, the aforementioned instructor turned to the victim ( a 17-year-old Dutch girl) and said “no jump, it’s very important, no jump” which, of course, is not an order. When you say “no problem” you're not asking your interlocutor to do anything. Apparently, the girl understood “now jump!” and subsequently plunged to her death.

A Spanish speaker of English, even a bad one, is unlikely to mix up no and now but it is not outside the realm of possibility that someone with really poor speaking skills should make that mistake. As is usually the case, an unfortunate combination of factors explains the tragedy. The instructor must have mispronounced an already incorrect phrase (he should have said “don’t jump!”). The Dutch teenager may have misheard the words. At any rate it is obvious that she should have been perfectly secured during that verbal exchange but I’m afraid I’m not going to discuss safety protocols. I guess, I’m simply trying to make a rather simple point: we often downplay the importance of clear communication.

In the early stages of the learning process many students take for granted lots of elements and rely heavily on the context. Unfortunately sometimes there is no context whatsoever just like, when you’re on the phone, there is no body language you can use to get the message across. In such cases, the meaning of whatever you say depends on the words you utter: you just have to express yourself accurately. It turns out, not every speaker can do that.

An independent report published last year in the United Kingdom concluded that poor spoken English skills can lead to air disasters. It’s no joke. Many calamities are the results of miscommunication. Sometimes questionable speaking skills cause an embarrassing situation. Notoriously U.S. president Jimmy Carter’s interpreter in his 1977 visit to Poland expressed the American president’s sexual desire for the whole country. Mr. Carter had only said he wanted to learn about the Polish people’s “desires for the future”. An accidental death and a diplomatic incident are certainly not the usual consequences of poor language skills. Nevertheless wherever languages are used avoidable mistakes do take place.

At our level it is the mental pictures that matter. If I say "the street had been evacuated" you get an instant image, which is quite different from the one you get when you hear "the street was completely deserted". None of that happens if you go and say "the street was empty".

I’m only trying to encourage you to be as accurate and eloquent as possible. Watch the video below to see what happens when you fail to mention only one tiny little detail.

My dear Viking poets

In medieval Iceland writers and poets were expected to make use of a (relatively limited) set of stockphrases which were deemed to be literary. The phrase battle sweat, for instance, was code for “blood”. The sun was often refered to as the glory of elves (álf röðull) and every warrior was a feeder of ravens. These well-known metaphors were called kennings and, back in Viking times, they were considered elegant. I fear these days we expect a little bit more from our writers. As a matter of fact, no self-respecting editor would tolerate a text fraught with what we would invariably perceive as lazy cliches.

Writers are supposed to come up with novel ways of describing people, objects, feelings and thoughts but you, my dear students, should not get ahead of yourselves. You are like those brave Viking poets of yore: you are expected to handle predictable metaphors and dictionary similes.

Before you ever dare say that you feel like an ant stranded on a water lily (I just came up with that one) you may want to make sure you know your obvious comparisons: free as a bird, easy as pie, drunk as a lord (in the UK) or as a skunk (in the US) and the typical textbook metaphors: many women have managed to break through the glass ceiling. The difference between metaphors and similes, by the way, often lies in the use of a humble word: like. Check it all out in the video below, which was edited for young students but can be equally enjoyed by sophisticated adults as yourselves.

Wonderful metaphors

Break's over. Back to the grind.

So where did we leave off? If memory serves, in the C1.1 classes we were describing people while discussing the effect that others may have on us. Remember? We touched on interesting adjectives like life-changing, eye-opening, awe-inspiring... We have also studied expressions such as "to impact somebody" (which I don't like but you can use, of course), "to have an impact on somebody", "to have a profound effect on somebody", "to be a major influence in somebody's life" and so on and so forth. As you see, this course (C1) is all about having options. But since we are going to focus on metaphors (for a couple of days at least) allow me to say something about this fascinating topic.

Languages describe specific realities and, therefore, metaphors mirror cultures. That’s the obvious reason why there are probably no expressions in classical Arabic related to kangaroos. Likewise there might be no references to horses in ancient Nahuatl. However it doesn't take an expert to realize that the Spanish language offers an enormous wealth of phrases connected with horses and horse-riding (ser un caballero, perder los estribos, dar rienda suelta a tus pensamientos, poner a alguien a los pies de los caballos, ser ligero de cascos, atar a alguien en corto, calentársele a alguien la boca, etc.). English just like any other language shows its own preferences. For instance there are lots of metaphors which have to do with the world of Physics. Yes. You read right: the world of Physics. You want a taste of it? Check this out: to reach critical mass, to gather momentum, to resonate with people, to be on the same wavelength, chain reaction, meltdown, quantum leap, etc. Get the picture?

English is wonderfully colorful indeed. Just think about the classical panacea. In present day English that term sounds quite formal. People would rather mention a silver bullet (you know, the kind of tiny missile which is customarily used to kill werewolves and other types of monsters) to describe a universal remedy. And how about the Shakespearean salad days? And the reference to a person’s moral compass? And what should we say about the famous baseball metaphors for sex? I guess they are all examples of what makes English interesting and fun to learn. So remember, as of today, you are going to have to face a red-pill-blue-pill sort of dilemma: do you want to incorporate all these idiomatic expressions which will make you sound natural or do you prefer to remain blissfully oblivious to the complexities of the language you decided to learn? The choice is yours.

Reminders for stragglers and nefelibatas:

C1.1 students. You are expected to write a 300-word essay describing a person you know well. The description should include a passage explaining the kind of influence s/he has had in you.

C1.2 students. Your task is exercise 7B on page 17 of the textbook. Remember my email address: rdelapena@eoilaredo.org

N.B. Okay. Granted. The word "nefelibata" is waaaaaaaaay too cultured (i.e. virtually unusable). I guess I couldn't help myself. Still... isn't it absolutely beautiful?