Learning Tibetan changed the way I think (2023)
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The grammatical category the author describes here is called Evidentiality[1], and it's surprisingly rather common[2], but most European languages, especially the popular ones, don't have a system like that as a mandatory part of their grammar.
> In Tibetan, there is an honorific language that goes beyond the French vous or the Spanish usted. Rather than conjugating the verbs differently to indicate politeness, many words are modified, or can even be entirely different, to indicate honor itself. For instance, you can have a regular picture (par) or an honorific picture (kupar) of, say, your lama. There’s even a way to talk about an honorific dog. However, you never use honorific language when talking about yourself. Instead, you can use humble language to help you decrease your sense of ego importance.
Honorifics are also common in many other languages. Japanese also commonly use noun prefixes (especially "o-" and "go-"), while Korean has honorific versions of some particles (e.g. the subject marker "-i/-ga" turns into "-kkeseo". Korean also has many speech formality levels (at least 7 different levels AFAIK), while Japanese has 3 or 4. Both languages have a highly developed system of plain, honorific and humble verbs, where most verbs are modified in a regular manner, but some common verbs are completely replaced by another verb for the honorific or humble version. Tibetan also seems to have a honorific verb system, but I don't know if it's as developed as the ones in Japanese and Korean.
[1] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Evidentiality
[2] https://wals.info/chapter/77 - WALS is not extremely accurate and in my experience it tends to overestimate features that are not fully grammaticalized, but I think it is safe to assume at least 50 out of the 418 languages languages have an evidential system that is as developed as Tibetan's.
I think this sums up the weak version of the Sapir-Whorf hypothesis quite well. The strong version of the hypothesis claims that monolingual speakers of a certain language find it hard to think of concepts that cannot be expressed by their language. But as Roman Jakobson hints, with enough effort you can express most concepts in most languages. Quite frankly, I'm not aware of any evidence of this strong form of linguistic determinism, except for Daniel Everett's research of Pirahã[1], which is rather controversial.
The weak version of the Sapir-Whorf hypothesis is more interesting, but most of the research I've seen was on pretty boring (in my opinion) subjects that seem to appeal to a modern European audience. In other words, it's mostly about color and grammatical gender (obviously only when that gender is Masculine, Feminine and Neuter, not something too foreign like Bantu noun classes).
The most interesting research I remember reading was on the Australian Aboriginal language Guugu Yimithirr, which uses a cardinal direction system. Instead of using the relative direction "left" or "right" to describe the location of objects in relation to you, you'd have to use their compass-direction like "The tree that is westwards of me" instead of "the tree on my west". That pretty clearly forces every Guugu Yimithirr speaker to have to be constantly aware of the compass directions so they can clearly point at things, it's quite unsurprising that they are very good in instinctively knowing where the north is without a compass.
[1] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pirah%C3%A3_language#Pirah%C3%...
Apparently you can't even greet someone unless you know the cardinal directions - an article I read in New Scientist claimed that a greeting is essentially telling which direction you came from and in which you are headed.
Be that as it may, I can easily believe that this feature of the language forces you to keep track of directions, after something I experienced: I was always good at keeping track of directions myself, I could walk around in sunless cities for hours and always know which direction I should go to get back to where I started. I could do this while driving too (I also traveled to other countries and drove around in many unfamiliar cities).
But then GPS navigation systems arrived. Convenient, I thought. Until I realized I had completely stopped tracking cardinal directions unconsciously. I haven't used car navigation since that hit me, and it was actually hard to get back into the habit of keeping track of where I am. I'm not sure I will ever again be as good as I used to be.
"If I were a bird, I would be able to fly." (were, not was) "God bless you." (bless, not blesses) "The teacher demands that students be on time." (be, not are)
Though many native speakers, even very intelligent ones, fail to properly use subjective mood at a high rate. Or otherwise do not recognize it. As some of the other comments note, there are some interesting differences around what a languages grammar will strictly enforce, where as in English, proper use of the subjunctive mood is less strict. Obviously, this is also far less expressiveness in English around this in grammar than there is in other languages.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Subjunctive_mood#English https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/English_subjunctive https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Grammatical_mood
what does register mean in this context? the tone of voice or something similar?
Formal: "I would like to express my deepest gratitude for your invaluable assistance in this matter."
Neutral: "Thank you so much for your help with this."
Slang: "Thanks bro"
"May i thank you for this nice cup of coffee?" "Go ahead" "I want to thank you for this nice cup of coffee." "Go ahead" "Thank you for this nice cup of coffee." "No thanks necessary" "But i explicitly wanted to give you my thanks!" "Sorry about that." "Well thanks for nothing!" "You're welcome"
Think about tense for instance. In English you have 3 basic grammatical tenses that can be combined with an aspect (perfect aspect, continuous aspect or both).
Mandarin Chinese has various aspect markers (like 了 le, 过 guo, 着 zhe or 在 zai), but does not have a grammatical marker for tense. That doesn't mean you cannot say that something will happen in the past or future: you just indicate the time with an adverb such as "tommorow", "yesterday" or "in the future".
The reason linguists say that Mandarin has no grammatical tense while English has grammatical tense is that the English tense is highly systematic. There are only 3 basic tenses (Past, Present and Future) and they are always marked the same way. On the other hand, Mandarin is flexible. You can mark the tense by using any temporal adverb you want, or even leave it out completely and let the speaker learn about it from the context. In English you don't get that level of flexibility: you HAVE to mark the tense, and you have only three ways of marking it (12 when you combine these ways with all the possible aspect combinations).
The same idea goes for thing like formality levels, honorifics or evidentiality.
English does have language registers, but there are many ways to express formality, and it's rarely clearly which of these ways is more formal. For instance, you can say:
"I would like to express my deepest gratitude for your invaluable assistance in this matter."
"I am sincerely grateful for the valuable time and effort you have so kindly dedicated to helping me."
"I am eternally in your debt for your gracious help in resolving the matter at hand."
Which one of them is more formal? I don't really know, and wouldn't want to spend a single moment debating about that.
However, in Korean it's pretty obvious that 합니다 (hamnida) is quite formal, but 하옵나이다 (haomnaida) is something so formal you'd usually only hear in historical dramas.
Japanese has less distinctions, but everybody can tell the difference between polite "desu", the polite formal "de gozaimasu", the formal (but not polite) "de aru", the informal and familiar "da" and then dated polite "de gozaru" (which you'd mostly hear in Samurai movies or other period dramas).
The situation in which you'd use each levels are also well-defined than in English. In particular, the familiar version is not neutral. You don't just use the Japanese "da" with people you don't know very well. It's not slang at all, but it's still quite rude to use it with strangers or your superiors.
And English has nothing quite like the distinction between "de aru", "de gozaimasu" and "desu". In most cases where you want to be polite (not formal) you would use "desu". "de gozaimasu" is used in certain settings that require extra formality (e.g. when talking to customers or in public announcements). "de aru" is something you would usually not use when addressing to people directly, since it is too plain (i.e. it would be quite rude). Instead, you find it in encyclopedias, reference books and documentaries.
ah so desu ka.
https://www.google.com/search?q=Ah+so+desu+ka+meaning+in+eng...
;)
Spanish culture encourages humility/modesty through idioms, like "tu humilde servidor" (your humble servant), "aquí, humildemente" (here, humbly), etc., but these are frequently used as humblebrags. I wonder if that happens in Tibetan culture too.
Many modern European languages have been simplified from this point of view, but some still have remnants of the older uses of the verbal moods, like the use of some kind of subjunctive for anything that is not known with certainty, e.g. from direct experience.
I wonder if it was probably the same in English, just at some point people became all too polite and stopped using "thou".
I always say that it's not the words you use which matters for politeness, it's how you say them.
With a notable exception being addressing the sovereign (king/queen/tsar/etc) where the singular «you», «thou» and similar were used, in all languages. The sovereign was seen as a direct peer, the ultimate protector of the people and the last instance of appeal, and the connection was also perceived as deeply intimate.
The practice fell out of favour in England (I'm not sure when exactly but probably with the transition to the constitutional monarchy), although it lived on elsewhere in mainland Europe until the demise of all major monarchies.
Phoenix Ho said it better than I can is this video:
Learning Languages Ruined My Life
This is particularly true when one translates/studies philosophical texts where there are lots of abstract concepts to interpret and more often than not if one doesn't understand the culture and everything it entails, one will make a mess of it.
> In learning a language, you internalize that culture and, even if just a tiny bit, develop an identity as a member of that culture.
This actually explains how Indians practice "Unity in Diversity" via their shared culture. For example, i grew up learning 4 languages viz; Tamil (mother tongue and 1st language), Bengali (since i grew up in West Bengal), English (medium of instruction and 2nd language) and Hindi (3rd language in school). It has given me a certain breadth of mind to appreciate our differences and yet have a shared common identity. A lot of Indians have similar multiple language upbringing and hence it is one of the reasons we can adapt and be successful anywhere in the World.
It so happened that much of what has survived under the rubric "Hinduism" (itself an umbrella term for a whole gamut of philosophies, religious beliefs, rituals etc. and everything in between) has been through Sanskrit texts. It does not mean that all the concepts/ideas originated in that language domain. This is why you have the many schools of Hindu Philosophy categorized as orthodox (six recognized) vs. unorthodox (three recognized) and there are still more schools (notably many Tantric philosophies) not recognized under either of the above categories. Given the bewildering diversity of languages in the Indian Subcontinent it is almost certain that Sanskrit texts recast/reformulated philosophies/concepts/ideas from other languages (eg. Tamil and Sanskrit).
The situation is analogous to what happened after the Scientific Revolution where knowledge from German/French/Other European languages got disseminated via the English language through colonialism to the wider world.
See https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sanskrit for details.
Also see Classical Languages of India here - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Languages_of_India
The linguistic complexity amongst the various states in India is very unique and hence simplistic notions of language dominance do not apply to India as a whole but varies from state to state.
Your statement that Sanskrit did not originate in the Indian Subcontinent is controversial and is not settled. But regardless, there were groups who had Sanskrit as their lingua-franca and who specialized in orally transmitting and then writing down their own (and borrowed from other cultures) philosophies and worldviews. The other linguistic groups in India did not do it to the same degree and hence you have the current situation where it appears that all knowledge only came through Sanskrit one-way. This is the fallacy that i am pointing out. Note that this is quite apart from what the content of the Sanskrit texts themselves may/may not convey; that is a different matter and has to be looked at through a different lens.
The latter is a much more grim perspective. What it means is that, if you've been putting all your effort, all your effort is still not enough, and you objectively suck and you will never stop being useless trash. But if you consider people as an unpredictable, unstoppable force, then it's much easier to accept, and just make your way around it. Like weather. It really sucks when I want to go out but then exactly at this moment a huge storm breaks out, but there's nothing I can do about it, so I'd better adjust my life to the fact that weather sometimes sucks and that's it. While I could've planned for bad weather, at its core the fact that weather sometimes sucks is not my fault and there's nothing I can do about it.
I would like to add that I'm not on a high horse here. I too suck at this. But I do think that it is a worthy effort, and something that is a Good Thing for the self, and to whom and whatever comes into contact with that person too.
Spelled Hou, per the video.
> Tibetan language has shaped the way I think and look at life. Even simple, everyday words such as “hello” and “thank you” have taken on a new, more profound meaning. The Tibetan greeting of “tashi delek” means “may everything be auspicious.” An expression of thanks, “tug je che,” means “great compassion.”
You can say the same thing for English. When English speakers part ways late at night, they say "good night" - not just that it was pleasant to meet, but wishing the remainder of the night be good (for everyone), whatever they choose to do. How thoughtful! Even the simple "good bye" is easily decipherable as "(may) god be with you," blessing the other with the almighty god.
> When speaking Tibetan, instead of saying, “I have a phone,” we would say something closer to “a phone abides by me.” My concept of the things I “own” has changed from “this is mine” to “this happens to be near me, and I happen to be able to use it,” with no inherent possession. This can be a wonderful and helpful tool to work with attachment.
Well, I can also relate because Korean also doesn't like the verb "have," so instead of "I have a phone," we'll say something like "(speaking of) me, a phone exists." But woe to the poor soul who thinks the expression precludes inherent possession - you'll quickly and violently discover the errors of your ways if you try to take a phone from a random Korean speaker, or - I strongly suspect - a random Tibetan speaker.
For me, it's all extremely fascinating and inspire a lot of of questions!
Maybe, Maybe Not.
Because of the permeation of Buddhist philosophies throughout Tibetan Culture and the harshness of their living environment they developed a system of "Mind Training" aka "Lojong" (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lojong) to train themselves to adapt using various attitudes, aphorisms, sayings etc. and expressed verbally through language. This most certainly has bled into everyday usage amongst common folk which is what i suspect the author picked up on.
English is my primary language and I learned Spanish in my 40s. But many things work much better in Spanish, so I do them in Spanish. In my experience , language absolutely influences your thoughts and your values.
I have an entire identity in Spanish that contains many relationships. If I think about or talk about those people in English, it is as if I am talking about someone I barely know. It is really odd, actually.
For example, not everybody has an inner voice – and this usually comes as a surprise to both people having or not having one.
Another good counterexample might actually be LLMs: Definitely well-spoken, definitely still not the greatest abstract higher-order thinkers, and domain-specific “intelligences” run circles around them.
I don't use an inner voice when I think about other things, how to do things, or figure out problems. Way too slow, and after all you can't use an inner voice to figure out how to get through a tricky four-car driving situation. You have to figure out what do do by entirely non-verbal means.
That’s why I can’t even -think- about math in Spanish, it just doesn’t work for me. I never learned mathematical concepts inside of that thought context.
And when I think of some people inside of English context, I can’t remember what it feels like to talk to them.
When I am tired I sometimes slip between contexts without knowing and cannot easily discern what language I am speaking or listening to.
I find it absolutely fascinating. It seems like there might be some insight to be had studying the phenomenon in people that experience it.
The only cognitive skills I've noticed improving is my ability to play word games and figure out simple phrases in third languages when traveling, because I have two languages to reference when thinking about word origins and relationships.
Compared to English, say, Spanish has forms of verb so detailed that a single word expresses aspects that require a whole phrase in English: "venceremos" = "we will prevail", or "quisiera" = "I would like". You cannot opt out of this level of detail.
Also in a ton of languages you have to care about nouns being masculine / feminine (la ciudad, ein Stadt, etc). In e.g. Slavic languages you have to also care about nouns being animate / inanimate.
Regarding the Slavic languages, while e.g. Ukrainian has the typical English-like possessive construction, e.g. "I have a car", Russian uses something like "by me there is a car". It also has the perfect tense designation as a part of the verb, in all forms and tenses. With that, some verbs lack some tenses! Formally these tenses could possibly be formed, but are never used and are considered unacceptable. Notably, you can say "we will win", but cannot say "I will win" using the same verb.
Opposed to that, Japanese is highly regular, it has like 2.5 irregular verbs in the entire language. Its verb system is hugely flexible and expressive, but it lacks a future tense; you have to infer it from the context. Nouns also lack a regular plural form; you can mark a noun as plural in a pinch, but usually you have to infer it from the context, and omit when speaking. Most sentences are built around topic markers: instead of "I have a car" you say "Regarding me, a car exists". Adjectives are actually lightweight verbs, and can have a past tense. The system of politeness / honorifics permeates the language: not only "younger sister" and "elder sister" are different words, but "your wife" and "my wife" are completely different words, same for "my home" and "your home". To say nothing about the writing system that uses ideographic characters for halves of many words. Imagine using emojis for writing, with attached strings of letters for things like -ed, -s, -ing, etc.
Knowing stuff like this is mildly entertaining. What changes your perception is an honest attempt to use such a language, translating texts, and especially for daily communication. You start noticing untranslatable stuff, things that cannot be expressed in a different language, except with a lengthy and awkward explanation. Congrats, now you have a new mental tool.
What this means in practice is something you'll have to watch for to notice: It's far more common for Japanese people not to reply until the other party has finished the sentence. Because, depending on context, the verb is important. Important parts happens at the end of the sentence, while in my own language important things are at the beginning of the sentence and the remainder is just fluff, so it's extremely common to hear people communicate in overlapping patterns - you start replying mid-sentence (and the other party automatically stops because the point has already been made so it's fine). This is something which absolutely infuriates my Japanese wife, even though she speaks my language nearly perfectly. She can't get out of the habit of expecting people to wait until the very end, even though as far as the other party is concerned everything is already clear.
But this does instill a good habit - there's way less interruptions. Because when you learn your pattern of replying mid-sentence, sometimes you do miss the real point. And more.
But the analogy with computing languages also supplies a practical insight that isnt captured by the academic theory, ie that some concepts are easier to express in one language than another. If I'm inverting a matrix, I'd reach for Python over C for example.
This is why some people would even go as far as classifying Chomsky's theories as pseudo-science (see one of the replies to GP). I wouldn't go as far, but considering the almost toxic disdain Chomsky himself has to every linguist who is not interested in researching his supposed Universal Grammar (he has famously compared structural and functional linguistics to "butterfly collectors"), we should view this theory with more criticism.
His Theory of "Universal Grammar" is more of a pseudo-science. See the "criticism" section here - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Universal_grammar
Also see this article from Scientific American; Evidence Rebuts Chomsky’s Theory of Language Learning - https://www.scientificamerican.com/article/evidence-rebuts-c...
> According to Wittgenstein, philosophical problems arise when language is forced from its proper home into a metaphysical environment, where all the familiar and necessary landmarks and contextual clues are removed. He describes this metaphysical environment as like being on frictionless ice: where the conditions are apparently perfect for a philosophically and logically perfect language, all philosophical problems can be solved without the muddying effects of everyday contexts; but where, precisely because of the lack of friction, language can in fact do no work at all.[259] Wittgenstein argues that philosophers must leave the frictionless ice and return to the "rough ground" of ordinary language in use. Much of the Investigations consists of examples of how the first false steps can be avoided, so that philosophical problems are dissolved, rather than solved: "The clarity we are aiming at is indeed complete clarity. But this simply means that the philosophical problems should completely disappear."