To set out to explore language is a daunting task. At times ornery, at times vast, at times confounding, she is a topic of epic forms and great heights. We peer at her from the peaks of poetry. We toss her from perch to perch in everyday conversation. We write, listen, and even think in languages.

And we take it all for granted.

In this collection of papers, we hope to investigate the concept of language. We do not propose to elucidate everything on the topic in its entirety—rather, our aim is to make some headway into specific areas. We hope to forge pathways into aspects of the larger whole, thereby sectioning off piecemeal morsels for further discussion.

Language has evolved over the years as a tool for communicating symbolic meaning. It has become a cross-cultural tool for expression. Today, there are millions of various dialects, modes of pronunciation, and individual styles of language use. And the theories about language abound and continue to flow forth from institutions and thinkers worldwide.

How does one make sense of all this? From the philosophical viewpoint, we consider Marnie Riddle’s exploration of language. Marnie begins with a strong stance on the importance of language to philosophy and vice versa. One is essentially co-dependent on the other today. She then evaluates the ability of language to portray concepts and objective facts. Can language serve as an accurate representation for ideas? Can mistakes in meaning or organizational application be avoided?

Two major philosophical schools of thought address these questions—that of logical empiricism, or logical positivism, and ordinary language theory. The former attempts to find an exact symbol or word to represent each exact meaning—in a sense, repudiating any confusion that may arise as a result of vague or ambiguous words. It also seeks to reform linguistic structure, creating a framework for organization that is almost mathematical in its logic and explicit in its ability to categorize definitions. In essence, logical empiricism works by restructuring language so as to create a system of highly ordered symbolic communication, the "new language," per se, that would abolish definitional and organizational confusion. It works to renounce the "emotional" aspects of language in favor of the merely informational concepts therein. Ordinary language theory, on the other hand, asserts that language in itself is a quasi-perfect system for communication of grounded and abstract concepts and is merely interpreted incorrectly at times, leading to a dichotomy (or some degree of separation) between what was meant and what is understood.

Given the variety of experiences and background that individuals possess, is it possible that each of us would interpret a given word in exactly the same way? This question has implications for both theories of language. If two people can never have the same perspective, will they ever interpret a word in the same way, even if that word has been so categorized (through logical empiricism) so as to "avoid" general confusion in meaning? In other words, could a situation arise where personal perspective would play no role in internalizing the meaning of a word? We can explore this by first understanding how two individuals can never have exactly the same perspective. 

It is almost impossible for two people to view things in exactly the same manner. This is due to two things: genetics and environment (or nature and nurture, as Malia Knezek discusses in her paper). The chance of having two individuals with exactly the same genetic background is infinitesimally small—identical twins do surpass this barrier, but even then factors such as mitochondrial DNA which is not inherited in a Mendelian fashion play a role. Even assuming that the state of being genetically identical could occur, experiencing identical environmental factors has no chance of occurrence. Even if two people were literally "attached at the hip" for life, spoke the same words and moved in the same direction, they would never be spatially in the same place at exactly the same time. Thus, they would view each situation they were in from a slightly different angle.

The possibility of two people being so drastically similar in environmental situation is almost nil, and thus the differences in environmental factors between two people can only be even greater than the situation above. These environmental differences compound each other, resulting in a situation in which perspective will have a noticeable degree of difference between two individuals. Thus, when people face each other with this degree of difference, do they have any chance of finding exactly the same definition in a word? 

Benjamin Whorf, as Brian Skotko explains in his paper, would have noticed that languges allow for similar patterns of thought. Instead of striving for total correctness in meaning and understanding, then, Whorf stresses the individual’s language and the patterns formed within a culture. Whorf views thought in itself as a sort of language, and also stresses the reciprocal relationship between a society’s language and thought of individuals within that society. He believes that each person’s thoughts had patterns, and language was an exemplification of these patterns of organization. It is true that different languages have different systems of organizations, and Whorf believes that the structure of a language does, in a subtle way, influence the modes of an individual’s thought. Thus, although truth is the ultimate, it is not everything, and one must accept that individual and societal differences in language exist, and that they lead to differences in thought at times.

The basis for logical empiricism—truth—is further subdivided between analytic truths and synthetic truths. Analytic truth is one that is based upon an inherent definition. Synthetic truths, on the other hand, are based upon an observable condition of reality. As we have already established, each person’s level and degree of observation can never be the same; so might it be possible for someone to not experience a certain synthetic truth due to their perspective and its shift from the general norm? Perhaps, then, the flaw does not lie with the means of communication, but the basis for it instead.

A.J. Ayer is quoted as stating that the philosopher is solely "concerned ... with the way in which we speak about [things]" (Sengupta 23). What about when the philosopher is speaking not of the physical, but rather the relational? How would this affect Ayer’s contention? Also, can a philosopher think of concepts, be they relational or symbolic, outside of the constraints of language?

Even within language, given the logical empiricist view, would poetry remain a viable form of art if each word had a one-to-one relationship with a meaning? Perhaps it would shift so as to rely on a difference in organization, although the theory of logical empiricism proposes to excise all possible ambiguities or room for interpretation in syntax as well. How would the concepts of creativity or invention in writing be affected by this?

If room for interpretation is compromised in the "new language," poetry loses much of its charm. It becomes much harder to draw parallels between words, because each one has a direct reference and stands as an entity on its own—as a self-enclosed globe of meaning, if you will. Room for individual imagination is greatly diminished. Also, if in the future there exists a society which has been brought up on the one-to-one word-to-reference hypothesis, poetry might almost sound silly and nonsensical.

One of my favorite poems is "The Second Coming" by William Butler Yeats. The language of this poem has always struck me, especially the last few lines:

The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born? (Yeats 18-22)

Cultural anthropologist Howard Gardner believes that poetry is the highest form of linguistic intelligence. It also remains one of the vaguest forms. Does one adjective necessarily preclude the other? Would "[t]hat which we call a rose/ By any other name ... smell as sweet" (Shakespeare, II.i)?

Malia extends Marnie’s idea of whether or not language can ever fully accurately represent thought by forging a strong thesis on the development of language as an entity. Is language a by-product of the human brain—a function of other structures that are already present—or does it exist as a system unto itself? In other words, is language a genetically-determined entity, or does it arise as a consequence of an individual’s environment (and consequently, society’s influence)?

It is interesting to note, as Malia does, that children can learn almost any language if exposed to it at the right age and at the correct level. Neurobiologically speaking, children can learn languages at quite an astounding rate if they are "taught" the language and immersed in it during their critical period for language development, usually between the ages of two and five.

Does this make a strong case for the universality of language? And how does this relate to the nature versus nurture argument? Languages are different in a number of ways, but they are also astoundingly similar. For example, they all contain a number of words grouped essentially by function (verbs, nouns, etc.). As linguists Steven Pinker and M.Y. Liberman have found, they also contain things such as a vocabulary and a propensity to evolve. How is it that such basic "rules" transcend cultural boundaries? Does this make a strong enough argument for the innate qualities of language? Or is this structure merely the most effective one for organization of symbolic representation? In other words, does it arise as a cause of innate brain structures, or does it result because it is simply the most effective method of organization?

Another interesting factor to consider is how much effect society’s ever-fluctuating mores have on lingual patterns. Dyslexia is one topic of especial importance in considering this—as a fairly new "impairment", dyslexia provides a unique forum for discussion and a unique form of evaluation for a "disease" that has evolved due to the changing nature of society. Some decades ago, dyslexia would not have even been recognized as an impairment. With the growing dependence on literacy and a developing need for faster readers and quicker typers, the condition of not being able to keep up with the speed of modern-day linguistic ability has been pushed to the forefront of educational and societal concern.

According to the National Department of Health, Education, and Welfare, at least 10-15 percent of school-age children in the U.S. alone suffer from some sort of reading disability—that is, they read significantly below their mental ability. Will these individuals be selected against? Is there any reason for them to be selected against, as methods for compensating for dyslexia begin to take root? According to sources such as Noam Chomsky and Howard Gardner, language developed as a result of genetic selection based on Darwinian evolutionary principles. It is interesting to consider whether Chomsky and Gardner would agree that specific characteristics or developments in language are due directly to genetic determinants.

A personal view of this came from Dr. David Rubin, psychology professor in the Exploring the Mind FOCUS program. Dr. Rubin mentioned that he had attended a conference with Chomsky some years ago, after which the two had the opportunity to dine together with some others. Rubin asked Chomsky about an area of the former’s interest—epic poetry and ballads, specifically whether Chomsky believed that the existence of these forms of poetry over so many centuries of time was because they were genetically based. Surprisingly, he answered affirmatively.

It seems somewhat far-fetched to attribute concepts such as the form of poetry to genetic determinants which, in turn, determine the structure of our brains. This is not to entirely discredit Chomsky’s arguments, but rather to caution those who tread amongst his theories. Although genetics certainly does play a part in determining the structural (and consequently, functional) nature of our "minds," a large part of it is passed down societally, or is determined due to direct environmental influence. It would be very hard, then, to state that language is entirely determined by genetic factors, with no societal sway.

Malia’s view of language as a tool to aid in other human functions is an intriguing one. Thus, language, could be used as a memory aid. But why does this occur? Malia suggests that the representation of a memory in a language area would provide another "strengthening factor" in the coding of a memory; in other words, there are more factors associated with the memory, and thus it becomes stronger. In addition, there are more available cues for retrieval. Tying linguistic cues to auditory cues, too, helps in memory tasks. Just to generalize from personal communication with a number of people, there seems to be a general tendency to remember song lyrics more easily than regular spoken words. This may be because of the strong links formed between a number of cues—auditory, linguistic, and rhythmic. 

Brian explores these crossroads of linguistic and cultural anthropology. He discusses a study in which it was found that "self-directed speech" is used as a tool for individuals to evaluate and overcome obstacles that may face us in our environments. Returning to the question of linguistic innateness also proves fruitful when considering Brian’s paper. To what extent are language and thought co-dependent, and to what extent do they exist independently?

One topic that has been viewed from a number of angles is that of cross-cultural color assessment. Research has shown that different cultures actually conceptualize certain colors differently as a result of the very words used in description. Many of these color names in contention, however, are based upon experiential adjectives—in other words, the very color name incorporates an understanding of an experience or idea that defines the color. Thus, other languages could make up for this lack of exact word-to-word match by adding adjectives to the color name, thus compensating for succinct specificity.

Still, does the fact that certain cultures have words which other cultures do not influence thought? Is an individual’s thought patterns changed because of words that are or are not available to him in his bank of vocabulary? Probably, to an extent, yes. But we would most probably be dealing with a matter of degree.

Another point for discussion is whether or not thought can occur outside the domain of language. One example that springs to mind easily is that of mathematical thought, although some would argue that mathematics is merely another language, another method of symbolic representation and organization. So then, can thought exist on such an abstract or objective theoretical plane so as to repudiate the need for language?

Daily interactions and reliance on linguistic abilities would push one towards answering with a "no," or at least a highly qualified yes. Technically, thought could exist as merely a series of images or abstract feelings/emotions, and one could probably even survive without language based on such a mode of expression. However, this becomes highly impractical when dealing with interpersonal communication, as well as with concepts requiring relational links between numerous objects or ideas. It is hard to communicate abstract or complex relationships without the aid of language. This is not to say that it is impossible, but rather that it is impractical to any degree of simplicity.

Brian mentions in his paper the utter complexity of our own individual languages, putting aside cultural variations. This ties in with a point brought up earlier when discussing Marnie’s paper. Due to the huge number of individual linguistic differences, and the impossibility of having two people who are exactly alike, it is striking how various interpretations of a word or a spoken phrase can be. To everyone, a word conjures up an image or idea of something that is slightly different. Like a fingerprint, our minds imprint meaning with a personalized stamp. Given the wide spectrum of variability, it is quite amazing that we can even begin to find patterns in language across and within cultures. 

Bora Lee explores this "innateness" of language from a neurobiological perspective. She returns to Chomsky’s claim that humans do have an innate ability for language, that there is an innate mechanism for learning language within the brain. It is true that Broca’s and Wernicke’s areas have been shown to be specialized for language processing in the human brain. Wernicke’s area is concerned primarily with comprehension, and lesions to this area lead to an aphasia that affects this ability specifically. Broca’s area, on the other hand, is involved in the mechanics of language; of transforming ideas into gramatically correct structures, and also storing memories for "word articulation" (Kandel et al. 641). Again, Broca’s aphasia specifically affects the ability to produce language—to mechanize speech. Such specificity certainly does make a case for specialized brain structures for language.

Still, it has been proven that both these areas are also heavily involved in imagery. So they are not specifically designated as language areas, although with our knowledge today they seem to be primarily responsible for language. Chomsky would probably argue that this is because the human brain had been built so as to accommodate this special language area. However, it is equally possible that language arises as a consequence of societal influence, and that these areas that we designate as Broca’s and Wernicke’s are merely the most amenable towards accomodating a neural system for language. The neurons in these areas may have more of the type of connections needed to facilitate language. The brain is, although we may not recognize it, quite adaptive, and will accommodate change, especially early during its development. 

When considering that processes such as language have critical periods, we can understand and appreciate the brain’s ability to modify its circuitry so as to "learn" and remember different languages. Chomsky argues that a critical period proves testament to the theory that language is innate. Although a critical period for language has been found, and is quite long as compared to other developmental features. However, the critical period for language may simply be a compilation of the periods for faculties such as audition or pronunciation. This remains to be determined. It is also interesting to consider Wernicke’s and Broca’s areas as gateways to a more holistic language. If language is associative and distributive throughout a number of modalities and areas in the brain, but the gateways are damaged, then Wernicke’s and Broca’s aphasias might not impair the whole language system, but only the "keys" to the systems.

Studies involving infants and sound perception are telling when considering language development in humans. Infants show specific attention to "talking behavior" (Lee). Is this because of facial expression and recognition, or vocal intonation that is characteristic of human language? Also, since the languages of the world are diverse in their sounds, how do we explain innateness when infants respond to all of them? 

Studies have shown that infants are born with a large "bank" of sounds which is pruned down as they are exposed to the sounds of the specific culture they are brought up in. Soon, as they grow, they are no longer able to recognize distinctions between certain sounds that they may have recognized if brought up in a separate culture. For example, English-speaking adults do not, as a general rule, recognize the auditory difference between a hard and soft L sound as do Russian-speaking adults. However, all babies initially recognize this sound—as they are brought up, they lose recognition because, perhaps, the neural circuitry for this recognition is not supported and strengthened through usage, and thus the synapses weaken and eventually dissipate. This makes a strong point for the innateness of language, but also stresses that the environmental influence is great in determining an individual’s language abilities.

Language, then, seems to be far more associative than we presume. By exploring neurobiology, psychology, cultural anthropology, and philosophy, we begin to realize what a complex field it is. It is words, sentences, thoughts, directions, expressions, and emotions. It is much more. Can thought exist outside of language? Perhaps, but language as a tool allows us to convey our thoughts, to share them and to receive others’ ideas. In this way, it is a major part of society. 

Kandel, Eric R., James H. Schwartz, and Thomas M. Jessell. Essentials of Neural Science and Behavior. Stamford: Appleton & Lange, 1996.

Knezek, Malia. Nature vs. Nurture: The Miracle of Language. [Online] Available http://www.duke.edu/~pk10/language/psych.htm, December 16, 1997.

Lee, Bora. The Biological Foundations of Language: Does Empirical Evidence Support the Innateness of Language?. [Online] Available http://www.duke.edu/~pk10/language/neuro.htm, December 16, 1997.

Riddle, Marnie. Reasonable Discourse: A Philosophical Discourse on Language. [Online] Available http://www.duke.edu/~pk10/language/philosophy.htm, December 16, 1997.

Shakespeare, William. Romeo and Juliet. Baltimore: Penguin Books, 1970.

Skotko, Brian. Something to Talk About: Relationship Between Language and Thought from a Cross-Cultural Perspective. [Online] Available http://www.duke.edu/~pk10/language/ca.htm, December 16, 1997.

Yeats, William Butler. "The Second Coming." Immortal Poems of the English Language. Ed. Oscar Williams. New York: Washington Square Press, 1952.