Chapter 13
In This Chapter
Considering language in all its forms
Talking about human language
Exploring how people learn language
Language was one of the first areas that cognitive psychologists studied, and it’s still one of the most important. Here’s why:
Some cognitive psychologists see language as being unique to humans. In this chapter, we discuss whether language is indeed what sets humans apart from other animals, covering what makes human language so unusual and how people learn it under normal and extreme circumstances.
People often see language as the one thing that makes humans special – gather round and stare at the amazing talking ape! But humans seem to distinguish themselves from other species in many ways (for example, by having an awareness of their own mortality and appreciating beauty in art). Therefore, you may ask whether humans are special because they have language or whether they have language because they’re special.
One important question to consider is whether language is specific to humans or whether other species have similar abilities too. In this section, we look at different animal communication systems, not only to understand language in all its forms, but also to get a better idea of what makes human language special. We investigate the languages animals use to communicate, describe how people recognise unfamiliar languages and explore teaching language to other species.
Many people argue that other animals are clearly capable of communicating with one another and so nothing’s special about language.
Here, we consider three examples of the huge variety of communication systems in the animal kingdom and try to get a picture of perhaps why they aren’t as powerful as human language. We show that bees and vervet monkeys produce meaning without much variety and that birds produce variety without much meaning. Only humans seem to communicate in a way that has both variety and meaning.
Vervet monkeys have several distinct calls to warn other members of the group of the presence of predators – they use different calls for different predators. So when vervets see a snake, they make a specific call that causes the other monkeys to climb into trees. But if they see an eagle, they make a different noise that causes the others to shield themselves from aerial attack.
Many species of bird appear to produce an almost endlessly varied repertoire of songs, which seem much more varied than the vervet’s simple set of calls.
In the countryside you can hear a variety of birds making recognisable vocalisations, which differ remarkably in their complexity. At one extreme is the cuckoo’s simple and repetitive call – so simple that clockmakers imitated the sound in cuckoo clocks hundreds of years ago with fairly simple mechanisms. At the other extreme is the blackbird, which seems to produce a constantly varying and interesting stream of short melodies. You’d struggle to find any repetition or obvious pattern in its song, almost as though it’s being judged on its originality or creativity – which may well be the case.
Despite the apparent variety of some birdsong, scientists aren’t sure that the different songs have different meanings in the same way that the vervet monkeys’ calls do. Although the birds produce a lot of variety, they don’t seem to be communicating different meanings. Scientists may be wrong, but to the best of their knowledge only two main messages are communicated by birdsong: ‘I’m fit so don’t mess with me’ and ‘I’m attractive so reproduce with me’. Perhaps complexity and variety enhance the power of these messages, but they don’t seem to transmit different meanings as human language does.
Research has unearthed a less familiar form of communication, which bees use to communicate the location of food sources to other members of a beehive. (The ‘language’ of bees is well understood because of some clever experiments by Austrian ethologist Karl von Frisch.)
Bees communicate through a special ‘dance’, which they perform on the vertical wall of the hive. They repeat a series of figure-of-eight movements, waggling their abdomens at different speeds. The angle, speeds and waggles of this dance communicate the direction and distance to food sources, and the other bees follow these instructions.
The precise details of a bee’s dance can vary considerably and signal many subtle distinctions in direction and distance, but the language is restricted to a specific set of information. In a sense, it’s more like filling in a form with certain standard pieces of information rather than producing sentences.
You may object to the main point of the preceding section – that animal communication lacks the power of human language to express novel ideas. How do psychologists know that this point is correct? The short answer is, they don’t.
This debate raises the question of how humans can recognise an intelligent communication from an unknown source. Interestingly, people studying earth-bound communication, such as from whales and dolphins, and those interested in detecting potential signals from aliens (such as The Search for Extra-Terrestrial Intelligence [SETI] Institute [www.seti.org
], which scans space for radio signals and analyses them for signs of intelligence), face the same problem: how do people know when a signal is intelligent? What are the hallmarks of language?
In So Long, and Thanks for All the Fish, science-fiction author Douglas Adams presents dolphins as the true intelligent species on Earth. This idea has been played with for a long time: the inspirational cosmologist Carl Sagan said, ‘It is of interest to note that while some dolphins are reported to have learned English – up to 50 words used in correct context – no human being has been reported to have learned dolphinese’.
If humans can’t be sure whether other species aren’t communicating in languages as sophisticated as their own, how can they expect to recognise intelligent communication? What should they be looking for – whether in animals or extra-terrestrials?
Well, some interesting patterns exist in human language. In the 1930s, George Zipf noticed that if people take a large sample of text and count how often different words occur in it, and then rank the words from most frequent to least frequent and draw a graph of the frequencies, they get a graph with a distinctive curve (like the one in Figure 13-1).
© John Wiley & Sons, Inc.
Figure 13-1: The Zipf curve. This graph is based on a set of English works of literature but you’d expect to get a very similar pattern for any reasonably large sample of English words.
Unfortunately, because many other natural phenomena follow this pattern, spotting a signal that exhibits this pattern doesn’t mean that it’s intelligent. Also, just because something doesn’t follow this pattern, it doesn’t mean that it’s not an intelligent signal.
Another way of looking at this problem is this: how can humans devise a way of communicating with other species? This problem faces scientists who are interested in sending signals to other potential alien civilisations (see the nearby sidebar ‘The Arecibo message’) and people trying to teach animals to use language (check out the following section).
Some researchers believe that humans aren’t special, but that language is: in other words, human culture invented language, and it enabled people to make massive advances. According to this view, the main difference between humans and apes is that humans have a more advanced culture. If humans can teach apes their special language skills, apes should then be able to demonstrate intelligence too. Starting in the 1960s, a number of researchers set out to train different species to communicate using human languages, or at least something akin to human languages.
One example project started in 1970 by Herbert Terrace tried to teach language to a chimpanzee called Nim Chimpsky (a play on the name of famous linguist Noam Chomsky). As with similar projects, Nim was raised in a context intended to be as similar as possible to a human child, though because chimpanzees lack human vocal capabilities, Nim was taught American Sign Language.
Also, questions remain about the creativity of the language displayed by such animals. For example, if a chimp combines the signs for ‘water’ and ‘bird’ when she sees a duck in a lake, is this a genuine sign of linguistic creativity (creating the phrase ‘water bird’) or just lucky coincidence (producing separate signs for ‘water’ and ‘bird’ in succession but not in a genuinely creative way)?
In more recent years, researchers have taught various forms of language to other species, including dolphins and grey parrots, with some degree of success. Other species do seem to be able to go beyond the simple fixed systems displayed by vervets (see the earlier section ‘Investigating how animals communicate’), but they don’t seem, so far, to have achieved the complexity that human children reach by the age of about 5.
In this section, we describe the features of communication and demonstrate that human language potentially uniquely employs them all. We also present a theory of language that suggests all humans have an innate ability to learn grammatical structures. We show the importance of creativity in language and potentially in all human cognition.
In the 1960s, American linguist Charles Hockett proposed a set of design features for human language, to try and define what, if anything, makes it special or even unique.
You may think that forms of animal communication meet each of these requirements – but human communication meets them all. None of these design features are unique to human language, but (at least probably) no single animal communication system exhibits all these features.
A defining moment in the history of psychology was the publication, in 1957, of a book titled Syntactic Structures by a young professor of linguistics at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, Noam Chomsky. Chomsky has since become one of the most famous, and most cited, thinkers of all time. In a nutshell, he said that human language is governed by rules that are internalised in people’s minds. Although they aren’t aware of these rules, whenever they produce a sentence they show evidence of using them.
Chomsky believes that this system is quite different to any other forms of animal communication. The idea is that humans have an innate language centre in their brain that contains the basic structures of language (the syntax and grammar). Animal communication, on the other hand, isn’t governed by such complex grammatical structures.
Steven Pinker points out that The Guinness Book of World Records has an entry for the longest sentence. But, he demonstrates, coming up with an even longer sentence is easy: you just write a sentence that includes this longest sentence, for example, ‘The longest sentence is… .’
Some nursery rhymes use this idea, such as ‘This is the house that Jack built’, which begins:
It ends:
The last verse is all one sentence consisting of ‘This is …’ followed by a single phrase beginning with ‘the farmer …’.
Other skills may have similar mental roots to language. Humans aren’t just better at using language – they can do many other things that seem to leave other species behind. For example, the same creativity that humans exhibit in language is also manifested in the arts, technology and understanding.
In 1951, the neuroscientist Karl Lashley wrote an influential paper about the problem of serial order (how the order of information presented affects memory). He argued that many skills have a hierarchical structure. In language, people build sentences out of phrases, phrases out of words and words out of basic sounds. Similarly, composers make songs out of verses and choruses and each of those is made of short bars of music, which are, in turn, made from individual notes. This breaking down into units of decreasing size can be applied to behaviours as diverse as dancing, playing video games or understanding historical events.
Language research contains a key argument about how humans acquire language. On the one hand, some theorists believe that language is innate. This notion is based on the idea that the human brain has evolved to be able to process language. On the other hand, some researchers believe that experience is required in order to develop language and that it’s learnt through behaviour modification.
The American philosopher Willard Van Orman Quine gave the example of an explorer coming upon a tribe who speak an unknown language. A tribesman points at a rabbit and says ‘gavagai’. What does he mean? The explorer may assume that the word means rabbit – seems simple enough. But perhaps ‘gavagai’ is the name of a particular pet rabbit, or it may refer to any animal, or perhaps the concepts of ‘running away’, ‘scared’ or even ‘lunch’. Language is flexible, and it allows people to express a huge variety of meanings. So how does a person who doesn’t know the language ever make sense of what it all means?
In this section, we walk you through the stages of language acquisition in children and the problems they face, cover how adults learn additional languages and consider how language is learned in extreme or unusual circumstances.
Children also show further biases in their language acquisition:
To demonstrate the above biases, psychologists examined what happens if children hear a new word referring to an object. Researchers found that the way in which children interpret the word depends on whether they already know a name for the object. If the object is unfamiliar, they interpret the word as being a name for the whole object, but if the object is familiar they interpret the word as referring to some noticeable part of the object.
An interesting but not unusual case is when children learn more than one language. Estimates suggest that a majority of the world’s children grow up in environments in which two or more common languages exist and so bilingualism is more normal than monolingualism.
Cognitive psychologists like to test theories using experiments that alter the conditions under which a phenomenon occurs, to see its effect. For obvious reasons (they can’t take a random group of children and raise them without language for ethical reasons), they can’t interfere with the process of language acquisition to see what factors matter. But throughout history some unusual, often unpleasant, events have occurred in which circumstances affected children’s learning. These extreme situations can provide some insight into the extremes of the human ability to learn language.
Genie was a child raised under conditions of extreme neglect until the age of 13 years. After being discovered, she was given intensive help, including language tuition, but her language never progressed into the fluent style of language normally acquired by relatively young children. Although possibly evidence for a ‘critical period’, researchers can’t be sure that Genie’s problems with language acquisition weren’t just down to the age she started learning or a side effect of her more general neglect. Read more about Genie in Chapter 21.
In the 1980s in Nicaragua, a new centre was opened for deaf children. No sign language was available, and so the children were taught lip reading with spoken Spanish and some simple finger spelling, but with little success. However, these children did learn to communicate using a sign language they created among themselves. Linguists found it to be very rich in structure.
A pidgin is a language that adults create when they don’t share a common language but need to communicate. Such situations occurred in the early days of international trading and also as a result of the slave trade. Usually these languages were quite rudimentary and lacked the more complex grammar of normal languages, most likely because the people creating these languages were usually late learners, and older people usually can’t learn new languages to the same degree of fluency as children.
Sometimes romances developed between two people who only shared a pidgin language, and they settled down and raised children. Interestingly, the children took the pidgin language to a level beyond that of their parents, adding more grammar and increasing its richness to the point where it had most of the complexity of a full language. These enriched pidgins are known as creoles. A number of communities across the world speak creole today as the main language, including Tok Pisin in Papua New Guinea. The process by which children transform a pidgin into a creole is called creolisation.