What we talk about when we talk about talking

In a recent tweet, historian Alex von Tunzelmann recalled that when her father was conducting admissions to Cambridge University a few decades ago, he would almost invariably let in anyone who made a hash of trying to say Nietzsche, among other names. It showed they had read a book by themselves, rather than being spoon-fed.

That’s an admirable attitude. Unfortunately, a majority of us are prone to judge people who not only mispronounce words, but have accents and first languages different from our own. A bias that can be as damaging as notions of race, caste and class, with implications for employment, education, justice and social mobility.

This is the subject of How You Say It, a timely new book by Katherine D. Kinzler. It deals with why we talk the way we do, and what that says about us.

A professor at the University of Chicago, Kinzler has spent years studying social cognition, especially the ways in which children comprehend language and accents as markers of group membership.

Decades of research have shown that it’s human nature to rely on “category detectors” which divide the world into us and them. Languages and accents, writes Kinzler, are an often-overlooked factor in making such distinctions.

From infancy, we seem to be able to understand who someone is simply by how they sound. “When we speak,” as Kinzler puts it, “we are inadvertently telling the world who talked to us during our childhood.”

However fluent we are in another tongue, it can be difficult to escape our native language and the identity that this imparts. It’s the vital difference between acquiring a language as an adult and having it naturally encoded in childhood.

The way that language is linked to a sense of self explains why children of immigrants start speaking differently when they attend school in a new country, even with years of listening to their parents’ non-native accents. They aren’t simply learning a tongue, they’re picking up how to belong to a preferred cultural group. What you’re socially drawn to matters as much as what you hear.

How You Say It also touches upon the much-debated Whorf hypothesis. This is the theory that the language we speak affects how we think by altering conceptions of the world and structuring it differently. Kinzler writes of psychologist Sayuri Hayakawa, who says that “when she moves between English and Japanese, it’s like flipping a switch.” Her personality feels different, as do her emotions.

Such linguistic diversity is a part of the human condition. However, “the social nature of language runs deep, and it runs in two completely opposite directions—toward deep communion and stark division.”

Be it in India or other parts of the world, it’s painfully evident that positions on language have created discord. Linguistic biases and accent attitudes have led to dehumanisation of groups, with all the hazards that entails.

So tightly bound up is language with social identity that, as historian Marc Shell has put it, “many people maintain that they cannot change their language without ipso facto also changing their gods and themselves.” So, when one group wants to oppress another, restricting the use of its language is a common tactic.

Kinzler says that one reason people are prejudiced against accents is the belief that others are able to choose the way they speak. This “perception of controllability”, as social psychologists put it, can be seen in stigmas related to obesity and mental illness as well – even though none of these are just matters of personal choice.

Essentialism is another factor. In this context, it’s the assumption that the language of a certain group is “pure”, with a unique essence. If you don’t speak the specific language in a specific way, people assume you aren’t an authentic member of the group.

What’s conveniently overlooked in all of this, as Kinzler stresses, is that there is no inherently good or bad language and way of speaking. Language reflects social life, and there is no right or wrong way for it to evolve.

Languages also shift as social groups and allegiances change. They morph over time, and because humans exist in distinct communities, it is not possible for everyone to speak in the same way.

Yet, “linguistic bias still seems permissible in a way that other forms of bias no longer are among enlightened, progressive people who seek to treat others equally, without regard to their looks or creed.” Unfortunately, this can negatively influence comprehension and even credibility.

How do such notions spread? Children aren’t born with chauvinism or xenophobia, writes Kinzler, but they do have the cognitive foundation to see language as something that unites and divides. Society steps in to fill in the blanks, teaching kids that some ways of speaking are better than others. Slanted cultural attitudes start to inform views about speech.

Kinzler highlights the potent influence of movies and other forms of media. An example is Disney’s film version of Aladdin. As the head of the Los Angeles chapter of the American-Arab Anti-Discrimination Committee said when it was released: “While the Aladdin character, Jasmine, and her father speak unaccented, standard Americanized English, all the bad guys speak in foreign accents. The lesson is that anyone with a foreign accent is bad.”

It’s not just Disney, of course; a study of American TV shows geared to adults found that “standard” accents were dramatically overrepresented. Speakers of non-native accents were more likely to be depicted as lower in status and less desirable.

Clearly, it’s essential to gain a greater awareness of the ways in which linguistic prejudice is perpetuated. Kinzler rightly points out that as a start, societies can be made healthier and more vibrant by raising children in an environment that values multilingualism. This can expand horizons and “create a world in which mutual understanding allows people to unite across borders.”

In other words, you say po-tay-to and I say po-tah-to, but that’s no reason to call the whole thing off.

 Sanjay Sipahimalani is a Mumbai-based writer and reviewer.