Dumbed English

The following is a vast departure from my otherwise technically oriented posts, but the topic has been on my mind lately, and this is my blog after all. :)

Let me preface this by saying I am a native English speaker in America, so my writing is necessarily from that point of view (write what you know, after all).

The inexplicable nature of the human heart combined with the ideas of the mind are at odds with the frailties of expression found in any written language. This is my premise, and good luck proving or disproving it. There is no perfect way to always express precisely what is desired to be expressed, for any and every writer, no matter the medium chosen.  Writers may be inspired more often than not to approximate a perfect linguistical expression of their ideas, but that is not something born solely of the language; instead, those near perfect moments are born of the writer’s ability to communicate within the confines his chosen language. 

The quality of a written language, from this point of view, could be determined by the ability to express one's in-most thoughts with both exactness and ease, so that the reader or listener can understand what is expressed to perfection, easily, in reference to the Biblical meaning of perfection which is ‘whole’ or ‘complete’.  Thus, a high-quality language or a language that more often than not is able to reflect the writer’s intent, could be described as one that has a multitude of nuance constructs to string various words together, allowing a high degree of accuracy in personal expression.  There may be many words in a high-quality language that have similar meanings that vary only slightly by the context in which they are placed, such as (in English obviously): loose lips, loose morals, and loose change, allowing a writer to more exactly select the combination that has the correct meaning for his idea. 

Any high-quality language would then ideally have well-defined but flexible grammatical rules that allow the writer to create poetry or conjure images in the mind not just in his words, but in how they are placed in a sentence. The very first time I was introduced to word architecture as a poetic device was during a class in Latin in high school.  My teacher described a poem in Latin where the author conveyed the image not just in the words used but in actually manipulating the placement of the words in the sentence.  The sentence, translated, was something like "he split his head with an ax" which is not altogether poetic but does evoke strong imagery.  In the Latin text, however, the word for ‘head’ had literally been split in half - one half at the beginning and one half at the end, with the word for ‘ax’ placed in the middle of the sentence.  Such visual imagery in English would be hard to create and still employ other poetic devices, but this seemed to fit quite well in the grammatical constraints of Latin.  Given this flexibility in grammar (among many others), and the rich and extensive foundation of root-words in Latin that can be used to add any number of nuances to a root word's meaning, I would offer up Latin…a dead language…to be a very high-quality language.

So, what other high-quality languages exist, in today’s world?  Preferably ones that are still actively spoken and written?  I am by no means a linguistics expert, as any linguistics expert could no doubt ratify, so I can really only talk about my native language – English.  I have studied other languages (French, Spanish, and Tagalog), but am fluent in only English and Tagalog.  Learning Tagalog really opened my eyes to the absurd complexities that English presents to any non-native speaker.  English appears to have at least as many grammatical exceptions as it does rules, difficult and anti-phonetic spellings that depend on the etymology of the words themselves (i.e. not defined by the language), and is ridiculously variant in pronunciation or even word meaning, depending on where or when the word or idiom is spoken.  English also lacks the ability to really play with word placement as a poetic device (unless you are exceptionally creative), but it does have a vast library of words derived from absorbing other languages.  English has around 250,000 active words in it, and this is far from the most of any language (see here), but it is broad enough for most any writer to express themselves with all manner of calculated nuances.  English has German roots, but is hardly a German language.  English has stolen words from most any language it has stumbled across – Swedish, French, Italian, Greek, Finnish, German, etc.  English also seems to be able to be overhauled every generation or two as it absorbs constructs from other languages, ideas and phrases lose popularity, and certain words become obsolete from lack of use.  English can, in a certain light, be described as a constantly changing, horrible mess of regional idiomatic synchronicities.

However, even with all of its flaws, English seems (to me at least) to have at least a few qualities that make it high-quality or easily used to express ideas of the soul with exactness.  One valuable quality is how easy it is in English to invent new words or phrases. English lends itself to invention more readily than some other languages as its writers will create new words out of whole cloth and give them meanings or string together known words in new ways, thus giving way to new expression that can eventually become common idioms if popular enough.  Not that English is alone in that capability, but it seems to adapt rather readily to how its writers want to use it, rather than forcing conformity unilaterally for all writers.  It is quite possible to have two people who both speak English not understand a word of the other, and not just as a result of regional boundaries, but generational as well. A 72-year-old man may find it very difficult to understand a 12-year-old boy’s gamer language, and a young boy may find it equally difficult to understand the humor of the geriatric English speaker, even without the language having time-period specifics like references to well-known actresses from 50 years ago. Likewise, an English-speaking Tongan may find it especially difficult to understand a native of Missouri in the US.  And by difficult, I mean that the Tongan may not even realize the Missourian is speaking English for quite some time into their conversation.

As each English-writing generation gives way to the next, the new and fresh generation seems to feel the need to express its individuality in its use and abuse of the English language.  I certainly did this as a youth, coming up with new words and phrases, some of which caught on and most of which did not.  Now, as an adult, I cling to clarity more than invention in my language, but I can still appreciate clever language from time to time. Up until the advent of the internet, texting, etc., one of the primary methodologies for 'unique' expression from one generation to the next was to put existing words together in 'new' ways to create personalized meaning that distinctly does make sense for the new generation, but does not make sense for the former.  Or perhaps by taking words that have one meaning in the old generation and providing them with brilliant new context in the next, thus changing their meaning only when spoken in the ‘new’ way or the new expression.  Language transformation has generally been achieved by changing the meaning of words and phrases (e.g. ‘That’s cool’), bringing old words back into fashion or taking rarely used words and putting them into the limelight of commonality with a fresh new coat of personal meaning, or because of changes in society or culture such as the emergence of machines, electronics, or airplanes.  Of course, there are the cases where words are invented, but those take longer to grab hold of society’s approval and many stagnate into oblivion.  Individual words come and go with use and fashion, and that is the way of the world.  I, personally, embrace this idea and use it to my advantage with my children.  If I hear a new phrase among my kids that I find annoying, the easiest way to get them to stop saying it is to say it right along with them.  If a person at my age is comfortable to use the new idiom or word, then it must not be appropriate for my children’s’ use anymore, and they quickly lose interest in the new phrase.  That is to say, no one says ‘cray cray’ in our house anymore.

All of this to go back to the point of language, in general.  There is no perfect language – no perfect means of self-expression that is clearly defined by the writer and perfectly absorbed by the listener.  Any language that has a chance of surviving from one civilization to the next is one that is adaptive, because language in general is enhanced as the struggle for expression is realized in its writers and speakers.  Each person born in this world must learn how to express themselves accurately and completely to varying degrees, and as a person grows in knowledge, understanding, and (especially) perspective, the complexity of delivering accurate linguistic expression also grows.  Powerful writers manage to reconcile great perspectives of profound ideas into written word, and wrestle with language until the words fit - perfectly - the idea that is in their mind and heart.  This wrestle between the mind and the written word can result in language that inspires, new patterns of speech that edify, uplift, and turn our eyes to new horizons.  Our perspectives are changed, for better or worse, by the written word.  Reading is a wholly different experience than listening, and much more subject to criticism, review, and hopefully pondering.  Ideas and perspectives are altered every day by the written word, and it is up to the writer to determine the type of effect desired on the reader, with the powerful writer achieving their intent.  As for me, I am content in merely reading my own writing and satisfactorily understanding what I am writing.  If others can come along for the ride, so the better but I am in no way able to guarantee their safe passage through any linguistic tools in my belt.

I would challenge, however, that what we see now in language is not so much a changing or reimagining of our language but more of a loss of words and meaning – a loss of language and power.  A complex idea cannot be explained simply, verbally or in written form, and it takes a good deal of wrestling to convey a complex idea at all, much less in language that can be understood by many.  The new words and phrases being created in our day (generally speaking) do not lead to complex ideas or difficult struggles within the head and heart to marry the idea and the vehicle of language.  These new words and phrases are still being created or morphed to describe new technologies such as the ‘internet’, ‘machine learning’, or a ‘hard drive’ which would have very different meanings if read by someone 100 years ago (‘a big net?’, ‘learning through a machine?’, or ‘a really difficult journey?’). However, the common language of English is losing meaning, flexibility, and imagination – it is being dumbed down so that English is becoming more and more of a low-quality, simplistic, anti-nuance language.  Words seem to be shedding meaning rather than taking on new meanings, and the variance of idiolects seems to be shrinking with each generation. As an example, the following are all relatively new words that are very commonly written throughout the US and more by English writers, and they are all the result of misspellings or lazy typing:


Bae – misspelling of ‘babe’ that has come to mean one’s significant other
Geet – misspelling of ‘great’ that has somehow become a noun to mean ‘something great’ (like ‘that bacon is the geet!’)
LOLZ – from the acronym for ‘laugh out loud’, pluralized to mean ‘many laughs out loud’
PWN’d – misspelling of ‘owned’ like ‘I owned you in that game’.  Misspelt enough as ‘pwnd’ to become the word for triumphing over your adversary in a video game.
Cray-cray – misspelling of crazy, doubled up to double the intensity of the ‘crazy’, i.e. really crazy.

The struggle for self-expression seems to be giving way to what is easy, yet incomplete.  Our thoughts are becoming less complex and so is our speech…or is it our speech is becoming simple and so then are our thoughts?  If speech and writing reflect the soul in any way, then simple writing that satisfactorily represents the intended idea of the writer represents a simple idea, and if that is all writers produce then, at some point, it is not hard to deduce that thought patterns in general will become simpler as well.  Sentences, in general, are becoming less expressive.  For example, take this sentence:

The banker dramatically raised interest rates on his outstanding loans so that he could quickly accumulate more wealth on his customers’ debts.

The above is a correctly structured sentence with key word placement to convey focus on several ideas in one compact sentence.  To me, it conveys the idea that the banker is greedy, maybe to the point of megalomania about his greed.  Perhaps I even feel a twinge of pity for his debtors having been at the mercy of creditors before.

Now, take this same idea and translate it into text that is common for today’s reader:

The banker hiked interest rates because money. Because time.  Because time is money.

This dumbed down version appears to leave all the poetry and verbal mastery out of the expression (not there was much to begin with), as if all the subtext of the poorly constructed sentences (if that’s what they are) somehow makes the entire expression less appalling.  What is so alarming about this type of expression is that it is becoming prevalent – creeping into news stories and the like all over the web.  When I first read things like this, I laughed at the absurdity of the structure but also appreciated the wealth of subtext in the absence of words that my mind just naturally filled in.  This type of sentence is probably less representative of the author’s intended idea, but it works for trying to convey a simple idea – the banker is greedy and needs the money now.  However, it has moved on from becoming laughable to commonplace as this type of writing has steadily crept into what is passable as journalism.  Writing like this is not a one-off or a fad – it is fastening itself to the very fabric of our written language, and shredding it of any real intellectual power in the process, and this is alarming to me.

As Alexander Pope declared so eloquently:

Vice is a monster of so frightful mien (mien: look or manner)
As to be hated needs but to be seen;
Yet seen too oft, familiar with her face,
We first endure, then pity, then embrace.

Horrible language at first is…well, abhorrent.  However, given enough exposure, we will gradually accept it into our lives.  Like a jagged boulder rolling down an eternal mountain, the rough edges of the absurd and ridiculous are made smooth and comforting with enough exposure to the surfaces of our minds.  And what is vice but anything that holds back the potential of men and women to become all that they can become?  The language we choose to use limits or frees our expression of self, our ability to change perspective in ourselves and others, our empathy, our vision, and our very grit to succeed in whatever we pursue.  How can all the complexity of the human soul be expressed in acronyms, pithy comebacks, and succinct but incomplete comments? 

Are we minimizing our output so as to equally minimize the potential backlash by our peers?  Are we afraid to fully express ourselves because of the fight for self-realization in the open digital world?  Or are we just becoming so lazy in our communication that we have learned to respond to all input quickly and simply, to get the weight of the expected response from off our shoulders, even if we leave out the vitals details that make our communication representative of self?  No one in the entire world is really this simple!  Every single person is of immense and unrealized potential, with an eternity of complexity lying within his heart and mind, and it offends the very soul to think that something so vast, wonderful, and complex could be reduced to writing simple, nearly mindless narratives with little else in between.

To add an even more somber note to the idea of the dumbing down of the English language, let’s contemplate the description of doublespeak or Newspeak in the masterful (yet horribly depressing) work, 1984.

"Don't you see that the whole aim of Newspeak is to narrow the range of thought? In the end we shall make thoughtcrime literally impossible, because there will be no words in which to express it. Every concept that can ever be needed will be expressed by exactly one word, with its meaning rigidly defined and all its subsidiary meanings rubbed out and forgotten." (1.5.23, Syme)

1984 can lead to an unbearable empathy for the characters as you ultimately realize there is no hope for change or personal freedom in their world, but it does make clear the link between freedom of the soul and freedom of communication – if one cannot think in expressive ways, then the soul is thereby repressed in an unbreakable cell.  As a language loses the ability for imaginative expression, it loses the ability to allow the soul to expand and to become great, as it naturally longs to do.  I am writing this post not to denounce any person from using the colorful language of the now but to encourage all people to wrestle with whatever language they use to write until it perfectly expresses themselves, even for just a moment.  Make mistakes in your writing!  Struggle with how to use the language to fit your mind and heart!  Make yourself vulnerable to the world in your writing, and you will really be free in ways that you cannot enjoy otherwise.
Powerful writing can change the world.  The world needs to be changed, so change your writing to become more meaningful to exact more powerful change! 

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