Whenever I finish a blog post I say to myself: “There. I’m done. This will be my last post. I’ll never blog again.” It feels like I’m empty. Done. Finished. And if I go against my better judgement and try to force myself to open WordPress and click Add New Post I end up staring at the dreaded blank page.
But after a while (days or sometimes weeks) I get this itch, this urge to write. An idea has formed, or a need to explore a topic in more detail. It connects with other ideas and factoids I’ve collected over the years and before I know it I once more find myself sitting in front of my computer and starting on another post.
This seems to be my process. I need these periods of downtime in order to be creative. And, being aware of this, I don’t really mind. It is as it is. It’s a small price to pay to be able to express myself in text.
But this has put me in mind: what does it really mean being able to write? Is it important? And I don’t mean being able to write your name to sign for that delivery, but actually put your thoughts down in writing in a way that’s understandable to others. Is that in any way essential? Or is it like being able to sculpt or play the sitar – nice if you know how to do it, but not really important for your everyday life?
There’s a form of illiteracy spreading that takes the form of not being able to express one’s ideas and thoughts clearly enough in text for someone else to understand them. People suffering from this new illiteracy know how to write, but not how to write understandably. Their writing reveals a severe lack of understanding of basic grammar and spelling, and only rudimentary knowledge of sentence structure.
This form of illiteracy has in fact spread all the way up to the higher levels of the education system. Uppsala University is Sweden’s oldest and most prestigious university, and has traditionally been ranking well both in Sweden and internationally. But lately the professors teaching courses there have noticed a significant drop in the students’ ability to write. They don’t seem to understand that changes in word order changes the meaning of a sentence, they only have a very limited vocabulary and they suffer from a severe lack of grammatical knowledge in general. They no longer use capital letters at the beginning of sentences or full stops at the end. It’s come to the point where they can’t write reports or read and understand academic texts.
Does it matter?
But does it really matter? If everyone is on the same – albeit less than ideal – level of understanding, wouldn’t the language simply adjust and become simplified in itself? Why do we need this advanced linguistic knowledge anyway? What does it matter if students are on the literacy level of a 13-year-old? Aren’t they still smart enough? Don’t they still think unique thoughts and come up with new ideas?
Perhaps they do. Perhaps language doesn’t affect the way we think. And with the advent of new technologies we might never have to write things ever again. Voice-to-text solutions are limited today but they show encouraging signs of maturing into usable tools for everyday situations. And with text reading algorithms reading out loud for us we could perhaps bypass the written language all together, or at least banish it to our computers and make it into a machine language? In the near future, we could have devices interpreting the nerve signals we send to our larynx and tongue as we subvocalise our thoughts, and then easily store those thoughts digitally on the cloud, send them to our friends or publicise them to a wider audience. All of it without ever touching a keyboard or picking up a pen.
But hang on. If we’re no longer able to write comprehensible sentences, what would those subvocalised thoughts really look like? If we lack the ability to put our thoughts together according to strict grammatical rules, how would we be able to communicate them to other people? If we don’t all follow the same rules, wouldn’t we simply drift apart and end up being utterly incapable of understanding each other? We would be split up and isolated, just like in a modern version of the tower of Babel*.
Language and thought
I’ve made a lot of questions in this post, but the central one would have to be ‘Does language affect the way we think?’. And to answer that question I’d like to return to my favourite subject: human evolution.
In the beginning there was no language. Humans – or pre-humans, I guess - made do without ever uttering a single word. Sure, we had different calls and gestures for different things, ‘words’ if you like for things like ‘leopard’, ‘water’ and ‘crocodile’ (just like a lot of other animals), but no language as such. That lack of linguistic capability could be seen not just in the physical structure of our bodies (lack of space for a lowered and elongated larynx, the diminutive size of the hypoglossal nerve canal), but in our culture and tool industry as well. As our linguistic prowess increased so did our sophistication in tool making and arts and crafts. There seem to be a direct correlation between inventions and the use of language.
This interesting connection could well be evidence of us humans having to be able to think things through in words and sentences in order to make sense of them. Until we can put an idea into words we only perceive it as a hunch, something just beyond the grasp of our minds. So in that sense, being able to form coherent sentences is an essential requirement for constructive thoughts and ideas. Without language our minds are blind, fumbling around without a chance of ever coming up with any original thoughts of their own.
So, yes: a proper understanding of language is essential for our capability of thinking original thoughts. We need a language with a fixed set of grammatical rules in order to make sense of the confusing and ever-changing collection of ideas we have inside our minds. And if we want to communicate those ideas to others – the basis for human culture – we need everyone else to use the same grammatical rules in order for them to understand what we’re saying.
Evolution or degeneration?
Language isn’t a fixed thing. It is constantly changing and evolving. New words and grammatical rules are adopted regularly and old ones disappear and are left by the roadside of the history of language like old fast food wrappers and discarded empty cans of soda pop.
But, whatever changes a language goes through it has to be a global change, a change everyone (at least eventually) is onboard with. Otherwise the language will start to degenerate and become a blunter and blunter tool. And our thoughts and minds will become blunter with it. So let us keep our language and our minds as sharp as possible. We are going to need them. Badly.
* For the record, the tale of the tower of Babel has always confounded me. What is the moral suppose to be? “Don’t try to do great things”? “Be wary of God, for he is a mean bastard and will mess you up good”? Honestly, does anyone have any ideas?