*** PRESS ANY KEY TO SEE THE NEXT SCREEN *** If you wish to print this article or view it in its entirety, please load it into your word processor as SPRAY.TXT. ********************************* * For an overview of these * * articles, please first read * * the file ARTICLE0.SEE * ********************************* HOW SERIOUSLY SHOULD THE COMPARISON BETWEEN LANGUAGE AND ANIMAL SPRAY BE TAKEN? A few admirers of "Truth About Translation, Version 1.00" have asked me how seriously the idea of "language as spray," as presented in the segment "Spray It Again, Sam," is meant to be taken. I'm attempting to answer this question in two ways in what follows, first as an informal and only slightly edited reply to someone who asked me this question on the Net, and second as a more formal definition of 'Language' incorporating this idea. Here comes the more informal reply: Good question. Am i entirely serious about the spray idea? Amswer: yes and no. Of course we all want and need to believe that the words and ideas-rooted-in-words that we cherish have some value beyond being mere "animal spray." And i'm no exception. On the other hand, everything we call language could indeed end up looking like not much more than animal spray to some extra-terrestrial or otherwise relatively objective observer able to see humankind and human-not-so-kind more in the round than we do. Seen from this perspective, i really wonder if language might not appear to be some kind of frothy, humid extrusion we carry around with us and refer to inside out heads and/or project onto the outside world as extended territorial markings, all of which we suppose to be the true shape of both internal and external reality. And that's just the spoken form of language--the written form may be even more insubstantial. Since you are a linguist, you know that all languages try to describe the real world, but that they also end up describing it more or less differently in a remarkable number of cases. And since every human being is an individual, we all end up throwing in our own smaller differences into the mix our culture hands us. A number of philosophical and linguistic "realists" (the Chomskians are only the latest among them) have wanted to believe that there is an underlying "reality" beyond all these different descriptions. Here again, i think i'd say "yes and no." And i don't think that's really hedging on the issue--it might just qualify as confronting it squarely. In other words, let's just play with the idea--without NECESSARILY taking it seriously--that our languages (and perhaps even our understanding) might simply be a damp and dubious outer coating, an actual biological, evolution- determined extension of ourselves that we carry around with us, even though it has no physical form or shape, something that we can neither see nor see beyond. The proof that it exists is simply all the ways we act and interact every day, all the ways we understand and misunderstand each other, all those mistakes or shortcomings in translation between two languages or merely understanding a single one we commit without ever being aware of them. i wonder if this comparison to animal spray is really much more far-fetched or counter-intuitive or totally crazier than some of the cosmological and molecular theories going the rounds with their supposed galactic soap bubbles and vast clouds of virtual particles perpetually switching on and off in the middle of vast intergalactic vacuums. i also find it quite revealing that this idea of language being related to animal spray or 'scent markings" should seem to have such a high shock value, at least for some people. Biologists have never hesitated to call scent markings a form of communication, so the only issue that seems to be shocking some people is that these scent markings have here been directly compared to human language and found anlogous if not identical. The usual approach to describing human language is usually much more sanctimonious and self-congratulatory. The ultimate proof that we humans must be superior to all other animals, we are often told, is that we alone have invented language. "Language"--invariably with a capital L--is far beyond the capability of all other species, who can therefore only be inferior to us. Language separates us from the beasts! But if true, why are we so defensive--and so arrogant--about this supposed mark of superiority? Certainly language is far more complex than any system of animal signals so far studied, even though this could simply be due to the fact that we are interested in all sorts of matters that animals find relatively unimportant. But the resistance by some to the notion that language and animal spray could be linked may tell us more about ourselves than we care to admit. The anger provoked by this notion, seemingly so counter- intuitive for so many observers, may come close to recalling the first reactions to Darwin's theory that man and ape might share a common ancestor. Or Galileo's support of Copernicus that the earth might be round. Or Einstein's insistance that light could actually be in motion through space at a specific and measurable rate. Whatever the final truth about human language and animal spray may finally prove to be, perhaps no theory capable of irritating so many people can be entirely mistaken. In the mean time, here is the more formal reply to this question. It takes the form of a definition of "Language," as seen through the defining lens of this theory: "Language. Any of the numerous complex systems of exudations or spray-sound markings emitted by human beings and projected onto objects, other human beings, abstract processes, and seemingly repeatable occurrences. Frequently used as defensive barriers against reality, these networks of exudations purport to define, describe, explain, and classify relationships, artefacts, and value systems created by the human beings who produce the exudations. More or less similar systems of humid markings are shared by various groups of humans, these groups sometimes being known as families, tribes, nations, or cultures, and are commonly called "languages." Such systems vary to a greater or lesser extent among these groups, and a process of integration or disintegration in these systems can be readily identified throughout history and in human society today. On a biological and evolutionary scale, these systems may have evolved over time from analogous systems of scent markings produced by many animals for territorial and/or mating purposes. The territorial nature of human language, along with its similarity to animal markings, is evident in warfare, negotiations for contracts, and much academic feuding. Specific systems of these markings as well as individual spray-sounds purporting to identify perceived objective realities or perceived relationships vary greatly among groups of humans. Over the centuries various attempts have been made to establish a unifying principle linking these systems, such as a "universal grammar" or a "conceptual glossary," but no such attempt has as yet proved entirely successful. Qualified mediators between two systems, known as "translators" or "interpreters," have often enjoyed some success in converting between specific pairs of these systems, depending on the complexity of the material at hand and the skill or ingenuity of the individual translator or interpreter. This idea is discussed further in Section 3 of the program itself and also in ARTICLE1. Copyright (C) 1997 by Alexander Gross