Maxim Two: Loglan was designed to test
the Sapir-Whorf Hypothesis
This would be the sexy metaphysical SWH
of the 1920s into the 60s. Although it was never formulated very
precisely, the general idea was that the structure of the language
you spoke conditioned the way you viewed the world, giving you a
naïve metaphysics which pervaded your thoughts and culture. Over
the years there were a number of more detailed positions about how
strongly to take “condition”, from “nudging you in a direction”
to “totally determining your world view.” The strongest position
was hard to hold in view of the numerous expositions of metaphysics
of incompatible sorts in languages of a certain type (process
philosophy in plug-and-socket English, for example, or the fact that
both Plato and Aristotle wrote Greek). The weakest claims hardly
came up to the level of a hypothesis rather than a casual
observation, since nothing really counted as a counterexample. But
somewhere in the middle there seemed to be a significant thesis.
The roots of this discussion lay in the
change around the beginning of the 20th century, from
“civilizing” (deculturating) or killing tribal people to learning
how that lived and viewed the world (empirical anthropology). And
with that came studying the tribal languages in there own terms,
rather than merely finding how they expressed various things from
Latin (or Hebrew or, for a really scientific approach, English)
grammar. And, as these studies piled up, it became clear that people
spoke languages radically different from one another and especially
from English (and the rest of the Indo-European European languages).
And it was equally clear that how they described the components and
structure of the world were very different from the familiar
categories of naïve Euro-Americans , and, indeed, from the theories
of not so naïve philosophers.
The familiar languages, which came to
be called Standard Average European (SAE), were plug and socket
affairs of nouns, which filled holes in adjectives to make bigger
nouny things, and verbs, holey things which eventually had their
holes filled by the nouny things to make sentences. Now there were
languages which seemed to have no nouns at all, only verbs, say.
Even people names were verbs. And then there were languages that had
only nouns (or maybe they were adjectives) and no verbs. And words
that could not be described in familiar European grammatical
categories.
These strangenesses extended to
vocabulary also. Beyond the apochryphal tales of the twenty-seven
Eskimo words for snow, there were facts like that some languages had
no color words except “black” and “white” or that they used
the same word for blue and green (or different one for dark blue and
light blue). These were less surprising, since there were occasional
differences of this sort among the languages of Europe (or even
within some one of them). But they tested out as genuinely affecting
how people perceived the world (told to put all the blocks of the
same color together, Navajo children regularly but the blues and the
greens in the same pile, say). And there was other evidence that
what you called a thing affected how you behaved in relation to it
(Whorf on empty oil drums, for example, or, more significantly, word
choice in propaganda). But the most interesting such differences
came in the details of the language, the essential categories, like
(loosely speaking from an SAE perspective) tense and case. Many
languages did not have tense at all, even when they had verbs, and
what they had instead (i.e., to deal with time relations) were
elaborations on aspects and the like from the richest of
Indo-European grammars and far beyond. Similarly, what happened to
nouns, when there were some, bore little relation to familiar cases,
even to the complex constructions on Finnish nouns. They even
overlapped with tenses in some cases. And these differences seemed
to have metaphysical significance, since they spoke to how the world
of space and time (or whatever, it must be said at this point) was
organized.
And now that the
anthropologist-linguists could interview their subjects directly,
rather than through an interpreter (or string of interpreters), they
could get direct information about they viewed the world. And what
they found, turned out to be a range of different metaphysics, of
views about what is in the world and how it is put together.
Although there are different details for each group, they came to be
grouped together into a few broad categories, There was, of course,
the “natural” view of individual independent things which took on
properties and engaged in activities, but remained essentially the
same throughout. Time and space are linear and are the framework
within which things operate. By contrast, there is the world as a
giant activity (maybe a process), involving countless subactivities
and and subprocesses which flow into one another, or pass away or
start up, with little vortices which are now part of one process, now
of another and are counted as one only because of spatio-temporal
continuity. Space and time are relative to particular processes and
often circular as a result. Then there were the views that held that
what there really were were enormous entities, various spelled out as
masses and universals, and events were simply the collocation of
chunks (or projections) of these archetypes, which were the primary
individuals. Time and space derivative notion, if they played a role
at all. (There actually several other language classes and
metaphysics discovered, but these three were the most discussed and
developed and they show the essentials of process.)
Comparing their language data and their
metaphysical data, anthropologists discovered some interesting
connections. It seemed that speakers of SAE languages (even if
spoken far from Europe) were inclined to view the world as
independent things entering into activities and so on, and to speak
languages with tenses and take time and space as fame works. And
conversely. Similarly, process metaphysics and a relativist view of
times went with languages which were virtually all verbs – most opf
which had aspects. And archetypes metaphysics went with all-noun
languages. Correlation is not causation, of course, and here it
might go either way, so for several decades there was a search for a
test to find whether there was causation (preferably from language to
metaphysics).
So, in 1955, James Cooke Brown, a newly
minted Social Psychologist and Assistant Professor at the University
of Florida, hit upon the idea of constructing a language, Loglan,
that was not like any other – certainly not like that of the
students who would be his subjects – and running some experiments
with it: test subjects in a range of psychological and cultural
traits, teach them the language thoroughly, then test them again to
see what changes (if any) appeared (teaching other students some
familiar language as a control group). But constructing the language
turned out to be more complicated than planned as new ideas kept
arising to be incorporated – and old one needed to be discarded. So
the experiment was never performed. But the idea of the experiment –
and the language that was to embody it – gained some public notice
(Scientific American, June, 1960) and people asked about it. Brown
had by then invented Careers, a popular board game, and left
academia, but from time to time encouraged those interested in
Loglan, getting some grants for developing the language and
self-publishing various books about the language, giving enough
details for people to manage intelligible utterances in it. In 1975,
he started a major effort, publishing the most thorough books so far
and starting an organization to promote the language (with many goals
beyond that of a hypothesis test), including a journal for discussion
of an in the language. In the classic politics of international
auxiliary languages (which Loglan always officially denied it
intended to be, but …) Loglan spawned Lojban, a virtual clone
(remembering that clones differ markedly in outward appearance)
which, after an unpleasant lawsuit, proceeds on its independent way,
diverging ever more from the original, as it too has developed.
Neither language still says much about SWH, but each pursues other
sorts of goals. The test of SWH, for which Loglan was started, has
never been performed or seriously attempted.
And this is just as well, since Loglan
is totally misdesigned for that purpose. Loglan is based on First
Order Predicate Logic (FOPL) and, though it has come to not look much
like it, it retains that basic structure. But FOPL is the product of
over 2000 years of European development, put into final form around
the beginning of the 20th century by English and German
logicians (with significant help from French and Italian and
eventually Polish); its entire history is in SAE languages. Not
surprisingly, then, it is a paradigm case of an SAE language, terms
plugging the holes in predicates to make sentences. As a result,
teaching it to English speakers (the likely test subjects, but any
Euro-Americans would do as well) would be merely exposing them to
another language of the same type, presumably merely reenforcing
their existing metaphysics rather than introducing a new one. I
suppose one might try to find a group of speakers of, say, a process
language and teach them a Loglan. But the process of devising
appropriate tests for the new language and culture is prohibitive.
And futile. SWH in the metaphysical
form dropped out of academic interest shortly after Loglan started
up. Its underpinnings were made questionable (at least) by
developments in the 1950s and 60s in Linguistics and the other social
sciences. On the one hand, the differences between languages were
found to be very superficial, with a basic common core across all
languages. On the other hand, the way that people viewed the world
and their place in it turned out, on more thorough examination, to be
pretty much the same at the basic level. The great metaphysical
differences proved to be merely a linguistic construct, made of
inadequate analysis and incomplete observation.
In particular, in one major division in
theoretical linguistics, sentences were seen as built up from
particles very like terms and predicates into basic units, which then
combined and were transformed through a series of processes resulting
eventually in an utterance. The stages at which an utterance came to
take on the peculiar surface structure of a given language were very
late in process, in some versions even just the last step before
phonetic realization. While these theories are not universally
accepted (or even respected), their analytic and explanatory power
make them a major force in the field. Even their opponents, those
who point out, for example, that the process is too complex to allow
for creating individual sentences on the fly in real time or that
they cannot account for changing sentences in midutterance or that
finding the same structure at the root in all languages looks
suspiciously like an artifact of the procedures of analysis, still
make use of some of the results. To be sure, some branches of this
general pattern, like the claim that the basic structure just is FOPL
– or, rather, an updated intensional version – are less widely
held (or understood or developed) but are especially interesting to
the Loglans, since they place its creation in the mainstream of
linguistic research.
On the other side of the issue, the
1950s and 60s saw a new drive to put more science in the social
sciences (well, the linguistic developments were part of that, too).
In particular, there was a growing interest for creating objective
tests for characteristics that the various social sciences were
interested in. A report on what a subject actually did in certain
situations was generally considered more significant than what the
subject said it was doing. Indeed, language moderated data generally
required some care in use, both from the subject and from the
interpretations of the observers. So it was seen that people with
different languages behaved very similarly in a variety of situations
which were created (it was thought) to test the subject's view of
itself and of the world around it. The result seemed to be that
people everywhere behaved as though they were separate entities, not
vortices in a stream nor chunks of greater whole and that they
interacted with other things which were also independent, separate,
objects. While all manner of challenges have been raised to the
interpertation of these results and not all have been met
successfully, the basic likeness of the non-verbal responses to
situations remains, whatever its explanation. So, the final word
(you wish!) on SWH is just that, when speaking about their world
view, speakers spoke languages which their examiners took literally:
process language speakers were viewed as having a process view of the
world because they reported that view in a process language. But
non-verbally they did nothing different that fit with the supposed
view.
SWH had two other versions which
persist after the metaphysical one disappeared. One is the New Age
version that grows out of the metaphysical. In the 1950 to'70s (at
least), when people were seeking some sort of mental/spiritual
experience of a different world view, the suggestion (little
understood in detail) that coming to speak a radically different
language would produce this effect led many people (well, dozens) to
learn the language of their particular path, Sanskrit, Chinese and
Japanese, mainly, with no particular effect that could be traced to
the language. Others, wanting to get away from all
linguistic/cultural conditioning sought to transcend language by
meditating on sounds or meaningless phrases or expressing themselves
in glossolalia, again with effects that did not seem to be
particularly related to the unlanguage involved. But the idea moved
to the science fiction and hence conlang world, where it thrives.
Starting a little early (1948) with Orwell's NewSpeak, that will make
its speakers unquestioning servants of the grammarian state, there
have been languages constructed – or at least described – to
manage all manner useful traits: intelligence, happiness,
spirituality, attractiveness and so on. Aside from some doubts about
how well these languages are designed for their intended purposes
(one popular one aimed at promoting a positive attitude is
overloaded, more than two to one, with negative terms), the results
have not been confirmatory of the general plan.
The other SWH that survives is the
vocabulary version, which was dismissed as uninteresting and trivial
in the early days. This version actually received some support from
the more objective tests that harmed the metaphysical version. To be
sure, it was not all success: where the old test, telling Navajo and
Anglo children to put blocks of the same color together, led to the
Navajo putting blue and green blocks in the same pile, the new test,
which omitted reference to color (but forced that as the deciding
factor), resulted in all the children creating virtually identical
piles. But at the micro level, those same Navajo children are slower
to identify colors as like sample one or sample two when both samples
are in the turquoise range of the Navajo word. The differences are
microscopic, but enough to show that some features – i.e.,
vocabulary – of a language do affect the way we see the world. The
result most often seen touted as demonstrating SWH is the fact that
Russian speakers, who have two words for blue, one for lighter and
one for darker shades, are 0.17 seconds faster at identifying a
sample flashed on a screen as being light or dark. I note this
triumph without comment.
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