 Linguistic Determinism and Linguistic Relativity.

If we studied a foreign language, we may have learned that no two languages

describe or conceptualize the world in exactly the same way. Each language possesses a
hidden history of the culture and place in which it originated and those elements do not
precisely translate into another language or mindset, only an approximation. An example
of this is that the Eskimo language, because of the frozen environment where it
originated, has many different words for snow that describes whether it is wet, dry,
blowing, heavy, and light, etc. while in English we have only one word for it. It is
because once upon a time there was a linguist by the name of Edward Sapir who had the
notion that the language a person speaks influences the way the same person thinks. One
of his most prominent students was Benjamin Whorf, who wrote a lot about that same
notion. In linguistic circles, that notion has come to be called the Sapir-Whorf hypothesis,
because of those two guys. But it really involves two slightly different hypotheses. The
Sapir-Whorf Hypothesis can be divided into two basic components: Linguistic
Determinism and Linguistic Relativity. Whorf proposed: 'We cut nature up, organize it
into concepts, and ascribe significances as we do, largely because we are parties to an
agreement to organize it in this way an agreement that holds throughout our speech
community and is codified in the patterns of our language' (Whorf, 1940; in Carroll,
1956, pp. 213-4). And, in the words of Sapir: 'Human beings are very much at the mercy
of the particular language which has become the medium of expression for their society.
The fact of the matter is that the "real world" is to a large extent unconsciously built up
on the language habits of the group' (Sapir, 1929; in Manlbaum, 1958, p. 162).

The first one is, linguistic determinism: what you say and how you say it
determines what and how you think. Proponents of linguistic determinism argue that such
differences between languages influence the ways people think perhaps the ways in
which whole cultures are organized.  This one is sometimes said to be true, but without
doing any real research, you can find examples where it’s obviously.  The first part,
linguistic determinism, refers to the concept that what is said has only some effect on how
concepts are recognized by the mind.  This basic concept has been broken down even
further into “strong” and “weak” determinism (The Sapir-Whorf Hypotheses, 2002,
p.1).  Strong determinism refers to a strict view that what is said is directly responsible
for what is seen by the mind.  In an experiment done by two Australian scientists,
Peterson and Siegal, this view of determinism is shown to be supported.  In the
experiment, deaf children view a doll, which is placed a marble in a box.  The children
then see the marble removed and placed in a basket after the doll is taken away.  They are
later asked where they believe the doll will look for the marble upon returning. 
Overwhelmingly, the deaf children with deaf parents answer correctly (that the doll will
look in the box).  The deaf children with non-deaf parents answer mostly incorrectly. 

     The experiment showed clearly the relationship between deaf children whose parents
have communicated with them through complex sign language and their being able to get
the correct answer.  The children, having grown up in an environment with complex
language (American Sign Language) recognized that the doll would probably look to
where she had placed the marble.  The other children, who had not grown up in a stable
linguistic environment (their parents not being hearing impaired and thus not being fluent
in ASL) were not able to see the relationship.  These results lead the experimenter John
R. Skoyles to believe that the Sapir-Wharf Hypothesis was correct according to strong
determinism (Current Interpretation…, p.1-2). The other view on determinism, weak
determinism, recognizes that there is indeed some affect on perception of one’s language,
but that this is not as clear as in strong determinism.  For instance, in weak determinism
language does not define one’s view of the world, whereas, in strong determinism this
view is defined strictly by language.

The results have been mixed. In most cases, human thought and action are over
determined by an array of causes, so the structure of language may not play a central
causal role. Linguistic determinism can best be demonstrated in situations in which
language is the principal means of drawing people's attention to a particular aspect of
experience. For example, if you regularly speak a language in which you must pick a
form of second-person address (you) that marks your social relationship to your
interlocutor such as Spanish tu ('you' for friends and family and for those socially
subordinate) vs. usted ('you' for those socially above in status or for those with whom you
have no close connection) or French tu versus vous—you must categorize every person
you talk to in terms of the relevant social dimensions. (As a thought experiment of
linguistic determinism, think of the categorizations of social relationships that would
have to be made if Spanish became the common language of the United States.)

Going beyond thought experiments, some of the most convincing research

demonstrating some degree of linguistic determinism is being conducted under the
direction of Stephen C. Levinson at the Max Planck Institute for Psycholinguistics in
Nijmegen, The Netherlands. Levinson and his collaborators distinguish between
languages that describe spatial relations in terms of the body (like English 'right/left',
'front/back') and those that orient to fixed points in the environment (like
'north/south/east/west' in some aboriginal Australian languages). In a language of the
second type one would refer, for example, to 'your north shoulder' or 'the bottle at the
west end of the table'; in narrating a past event, one would have to remember how the
actions related to the compass points. Thus, in order to speak this type of language, you
always have to know where you are with respect to the compass points, whether you are
speaking or not. And Levinson's groups have shown, in extensive cross-linguistic and
cross-cultural studies, that this is, in fact, the case.

The second one is linguistic Relativity, in the simple way we can said linguistic
relativity is Peoples of the world have developed different ways of viewing the world.
Language differences reflect differences in culture (a rarely made claim now). Language
differences reflect differences in conceptual structure. In order to speak any language,
you have to pay attention to the meanings that are grammatically marked in that
language. For example, in English it is necessary to mark the verb to indicate the time of
occurrence of an event you are speaking about: It's raining; it rained; and so forth. In
Turkish, however, it is impossible to simply say, 'It rained last night'. This language, like
many American Indian languages, has more than one past tense, depending on one's
source of knowledge of the event. In Turkish, there are two past tenses. One to report
directs experience and the other to report events that you know about only by inference or
hearsay. Thus, if you were out in the rain last night, you will say, 'It rained last night'
using the past-tense form that indicates that you were a witness to the rain; but if you
wake up in the morning and see the wet street and garden, you are obliged to use the
other past-tense form, the one that indicates that you were not a witness to the rain itself.

Differences of this sort have fascinated linguists and anthropologists for centuries.
They have reported hundreds of facts about 'exotic' languages, such as verbs that are
marked or chosen according to the shape of an object that is being handled (Navajo) or
for the relative ages of speaker and hearer (Korean). Such facts are grist for the mill of
linguistic relativity. And, indeed, they can be found quite readily in 'nonexotic' languages
as well. To cite a fact about English that is well known to linguists: It is not appropriate
to say Richard Nixon has worked in Washington, but it is perfectly OK to say Gerald
Ford has worked in Washington. Why? English restricts the present perfect tense ('has
worked') to assertions about people who are alive. Exotic!

The other example of linguistic relativity A doctor saw an elderly patient and, at
the end of the visit, told her in parting, “Take it easy.” He meant it as an informal way of
saying goodbye, nothing more. But this poor lady took it as medical advice, promptly
took to her bed, and refused to get out for the next two weeks, until the doctor returned
from what turned out to be an ill-timed vacation. By that time the little lady was so weak
from her self-imposed inactivity that she was unable to walk. In another example,
somewhat less dramatic, a little girl got sick after a meal involving a bit of over-
indulgence in nachos, the dip for which she knew included some squashed pinto
beans. For many months afterward, she refused to eat anything called “beans,” whether
these were pinto beans (whole or mashed up), green beans, lima beans, black-eyed beans,
or even jelly beans! We might describe this by paraphrasing Voltaire’s famous statement
(“I think, therefore I am”), as, “I speak, and therefore I think.”

There are cases where the influence went the other way, where thought patterns
created language that was a bit unusual, especially in small children. For example, a
certain small boy of my acquaintance considered things that seemed capable of
independent movement to be alive. His eccentric category of living things included
humans, animals, wind-up robots, large construction machinery, and most vehicles on the
road, on the rails, and in the air. He did not, however, accept the notion that plants could
be alive since they did not move around. So he would happily note the movements of
animals he saw on the street and also of vehicles and construction machinery. When he
saw a backhoe sitting in a field, unmoving, he announced that that it was all tired out now
and was taking a nap. It was about time for his nap, so this made sense from his point of
view. We could paraphrase Voltaire’s statement to describe this situation as, “I think,
therefore I speak.” 

The point is, sometimes thought influences language.  Sometimes language

influences thought.  Sometimes other things influence both thought and language.  Real
world experience is one of the more potent variables or factors having such an influence,
a fact that is rarely recognized in linguistics, but ought to be pointed out more often.  And
sometimes talkative folks like me just rattle on and on, saying whatever thoughts come
into their heads, but the relationship between speech and thought isn't altogether clear
even to the speaker.  That's one of the reasons why we misunderstand one another so
often.  What I think I mean by what I say isn't necessarily what you think I mean.  So, if
you don't like what I say, why not ask me about it?  You might find that I really meant
something altogether different.