As a linguist and general lover of language, I often end up talking with people about language. Many people complain to me about their various linguistic pet peeves, often while displaying a lack of awareness of their own "misuse" of language. All of this makes for some amusing situations. (I usually don't point it out - because that would be condescending and annoying.)
If you were to ask a linguist about "misuse," they might actually tell you there isn's such a thing as "misuse" in natural language. Why? Well, there are two key qualities that virtually every linguist possesses, yet they run directly counter to one another:
These two qualities might be the most fundamental aspects of being a linguist.
On the one hand, we are way into language, so we generally know how to use it. Many of us have been fascinated with (or fixated on) language and its patterns since way before we officially declared our courses of study. As such, we are peeved when we see errors. We are true grammar Nazis. (And you are all but guilty subjects in our plot for total world domination through grammar superiority. Kidding. Kinda.)
The Resolution
If you were to ask a linguist about "misuse," they might actually tell you there isn's such a thing as "misuse" in natural language. Why? Well, there are two key qualities that virtually every linguist possesses, yet they run directly counter to one another:
- Our profession's only mantra - and it's an important one - is: "be descriptive, not prescriptive" about language and its use. (What a layperson may call "misuse," a linguist would merely describe as a person's idiosyncratic dialect, their "idiolect.")
- In terms of our adherence to rules of grammar, all linguists can fairly be labeled "grammar Nazis."
As you might imagine, these two directly-conflicting driving forces can easily become the perfect recipe for a minor existential crisis in your linguist-friend.
The Conflict and the Angst
On the one hand, we are way into language, so we generally know how to use it. Many of us have been fascinated with (or fixated on) language and its patterns since way before we officially declared our courses of study. As such, we are peeved when we see errors. We are true grammar Nazis. (And you are all but guilty subjects in our plot for total world domination through grammar superiority. Kidding. Kinda.)
On the other hand, given that "be descriptive, not prescriptive" is the professional standard, we are technically not supposed to tell people (prescribe) how to use language, but only to describe how they use it.
So naturally, the grammar Nazi impulse come into conflict with the professional mantra. We are only supposed to describe how people speak, but there is this internal impulse, bred in us for years (in equal parts by teachers, parents, and our own arrogance), to correct something if it doesn't meet the standard definition of "proper language." (Though, as it turns out, such superiority complexes are not reserved for linguists alone).
The Facts
To be or not to be?
The truth is, language change is natural. Languages have evolved just as species have, and as natural mutations occur in living beings, so do they also in language.
To be or not to be?
The truth is, language change is natural. Languages have evolved just as species have, and as natural mutations occur in living beings, so do they also in language.
For example, have you ever stopped to consider how crazy the verb "to be" is compared to something like "to call?"
Whereas "to call" is conjugated like this:
I call
You call
S/he/it calls
and so on,
The verb "to be" is ALL over the place:
I am
You are
S/he/it is
and so on.
So what is the DEAL with "to be?" Was it ever normal like the majority of our verbs?
The answer is that it probably was. But through the long course of the English language (and indeed, any language), the verb "to be" has been used much more than almost any other verb - and as a result, it's experienced a ton of mutations. So today, it looks the way it does.
But what about the rest of the dictionary?
Some version of this morphing basically happens with all words.
Some version of this morphing basically happens with all words.
As a matter of fact, the reason there are so many exceptions to language rules both in pronunciation and in grammar (e.g. "call - called," but "think - thought," not "think - thinked") is because our language - and all languages - have undergone so many changes over time that are independent of how people want them to behave, and instead reflect how people actually use language.
Language evolves on its own, through use, and through the mouths of many - almost regardless of what we may want it to do.
Language evolves on its own, through use, and through the mouths of many - almost regardless of what we may want it to do.
Consider the fact that "ain't" is already in our vocabulary. It's still not part of the prestige dialect, i.e. the formal written language of English, but that's a matter of social winds, and may change some day.
This has already happened with oodles and oodles of words - like 'teenage,' 'computer,' 'kooky,' 'jargon,' 'to Google,' and countless others - those are just the ones that have entered the language in the past 100 years. There are words that didn't exist 200 years ago, 300 years ago, 451 years ago, and so on. (Source: etymonline.com) And of course, there is the indomitable 'twerking.'
This has already happened with oodles and oodles of words - like 'teenage,' 'computer,' 'kooky,' 'jargon,' 'to Google,' and countless others - those are just the ones that have entered the language in the past 100 years. There are words that didn't exist 200 years ago, 300 years ago, 451 years ago, and so on. (Source: etymonline.com) And of course, there is the indomitable 'twerking.'
Of course, writing language down and teaching it through writing helps preserve some aspects. (There are far more factors besides writing that influence the natural evolution/preservation of language, like other contact languages, technology developments, etc.).
However, what I want you to walk away with, is that, rules or no rules, language change is as natural as is its preservation.
There IS no "right" way to speak. There's only the way group X or person Y says it, or the way group Z or person W says it, and so on.
Language is a living, breathing thing. It evolves as it is used, and it sometimes ends up in the form that is most pervasively used - not the form that is prescribed by stuffy scholars in ivory towers (ahem, ahem).
However, what I want you to walk away with, is that, rules or no rules, language change is as natural as is its preservation.
There IS no "right" way to speak. There's only the way group X or person Y says it, or the way group Z or person W says it, and so on.
Language is a living, breathing thing. It evolves as it is used, and it sometimes ends up in the form that is most pervasively used - not the form that is prescribed by stuffy scholars in ivory towers (ahem, ahem).
The Resolution
So when I say "misuse," I say it with a wry smile and a grain of salt - because although there are prescribed rules, there is technically no wrong way to use a language. As long as there is mutual intelligibility, and speakers are able to communicate, variations in language (to linguists) are (or ought to be) merely interesting.
Linguists, of course, have years of grammar-Nazi training working against us in this respect, and formal training is supposed to ease our existential angst a bit.
But if you ever get a pensive look (or, more likely, a lengthy explanation) when you ask a linguist what the 'the right way' to say something is, remember that all this backstory is working its way through our minds at that moment. Our impulse might be to tell you the "right" way, but we're trying our darndest to, instead, provide you with a more thoughtful, nuanced answer.
Do you have your own "Friendships with Linguists" survival tips? Please post them in the comment section.
(NB: For more new words for 2013, see this blog entry by the Oxford Dictionary._
