Tips for learning German

I was asked the other day for a few tips on learning German. These may usefully be split in two – those which are useful for any language, and those which are useful specifically for German.

Any Language

Know the key words. These form the core vocabulary of any language without which it is impossible to speak it fluently, and they are perhaps the one thing it is worth outright learning. Some languages actually lack certain “key words” (effectively Danish lacks “please”, Spanish lacks “become”, English lacks “ainsi/so/asi/cosi“) which is in itself good to know so you instantly know to work round them.

Know key prepositions, negative forms and pronouns – noting that their use varies considerably from language to language. Without these, you can’t put the language together – but the key is to recognise them first of all. Precise usage can come later.

Listen to music. Picking up the lyrics of songs is a great way to get used to how a language is put together. Soon, you will find full phrases and even grammatical forms just flow together instinctively.

Read/watch stuff you’re interested in. Like football? Watch after-game analysis (widely available on YouTube). Keen on cars? Read an online car magazine. It is important to use subjects you are interested in partly because you will be more motivated, and partly because you’ll already have a head start with understanding the subject. As with music above, soon you will find entire phrases and terminology just spring to mind naturally.

Visit the place (and not just as a tourist). This seems incredibly obvious, but it is amazing how many people try to learn languages while never visiting anywhere where they are spoken – not least thousands of schoolchildren up and down the UK who can even reach A-Level without doing so! Languages are part of an overall culture – they have their own character and feel, and this is heavily informed by where they are spoken and the people who speak them natively.

Forget vocabulary lists. I have covered this before – partly because you cannot learn a language by clinically learning off ever word and then learning off how to put them together like an IKEA set; but mainly because there is almost never a one-to-one correspondence between any two individual words.

German

As for German, it is notorious as one of the “harder” languages to learn. To speak it accurately, this is probably true. However, to speak it competently, it need not be.

German and English are basically the same language. German and English were the same language until around 1,200 years ago, and it still shows. Almost the entire core vocabulary consists of cognates (see above); even where meanings initially look different, they are sometimes closer than you think (e.g. English “I will” is usually translated as “ich werde” and German “ich will” as “I want”, but in fact the ideas of “volition” and “future” are closely linked and sometimes the direct translation works).

Look for patterns to recognise words. For example, if “zehn” is “ten”, “zahl” is “tell”; if “wasser” is “water”, “besser” is “better”; if “Pfeffer” is “pepper”, “Pfeife” is “pipe”; if “haben” is “have”, “geben” is “give” and if “vergeben” is “forgive”, “verloren” is “forlorn”. (Again, meanings vary slightly – actually “zählen” is “count” but cf. “teller”; “pfeifen” is “whistle”; “verloren” means “lost” generally.)

The verb goes to the end of the sentence… with the exception of the main verb in main clauses (which goes second regardless of what comes first) and the main verb in interrogative clauses (i.e. questions; which goes first). This is the best way to understand the basics of word order.

German likes nouns. In general, look for a noun phrase if you possibly can. Where in English you say “If the weather is bad, I will stay at home”, in German you say “Bei schlechtem Wetter, bleibe ich zuhause” (i.e. “By bad weather, I stay at home”).

There are only two tenses in German… and in English. Contrary to what we are taught, English doesn’t have a future, it merely has ways of indicating it. It is the same in German – just the ways (and times) you do so are different.

Invent long words. It is the most fun part of the language! Just be creative and try to be purposeful – for example, Germany doesn’t have a speed limit because that would require a Bundesgeschwindigkeitsbegrenzungsgesetz… who wouldn’t want to learn a language with a potential word like that?!

 

Five?!

Just as a bit of vaguely language-related fun, has anyone any idea what the above is supposed to be?!

Speech at “Channelling Links: An Exploration of the Literary/Linguistic Culture of Ulster and Scotland”

I wish to do three things in this brief piece – talk about the origins of language, talk about how languages could be better taught, and then conclude by combining this into how we take Ulster Scots forward.

I do so as a man of many hats – I chair the Ulster-Scots Broadcast Fund, I have worked as an Ulster-Scots translator, and I have recently published ‘Ulster Scots: A Short Reference Grammar’ [Belfast: Ultonia Publishing; 2012].

What frustrates me most is not the lack of understanding or respect given to Ulster Scots, but rather the lack of understanding and respect given to language. To explain this, we may usefully take two pictures – one of a Volvo S60 (2001 model), and one of an Audi Q3 (2012 model). The question is: which nationality are they; and which colour are they? We will answer this later in the piece.

Firstly, we need to go back in time – probably to somewhere in Ukraine, probably around 4,000 years ago. Here we find a language, which we shall now call “Indo-European”, spoken by a relatively small group. It is a relatively complex language, with perhaps eight or nine cases and a series of phonemes some of which no longer exist. The remarkable story is that half the world’s population now speaks a language descended from it, including almost the entire population of Europe, the northern Indian subcontinent, and much in between. Yet the key point is this is not a tribal thing – it is not true that half the world’s population is descended ethnically from this one group; but that it is a linguistic thing. I cannot over-emphasise the distinction between the two.

Study of this language provides some remarkable historical evidence which we would not otherwise have. For example, the words “knee” and “kin” are not obviously related in modern English pronunciation, but their spelling hints that they are. Toss in “gynaecologist”, and you have three words, albeit the latter coming indirectly, all with the same origin – meaning a part of the body on the front of the leg, a family link, and the female gender respectively. Why would they have the same origin? In all likelihood, women (“gyn-”) 4,000 years ago gave birth (to “kin”) on their “knees”.

There are other linkages carried all the way down too. “Mother-father-brother”, “mathair-athair-brathair”, “Mutter-Vater-Bruder” and “Mere-Pere-Frere” all end in “-r” because “-r” was the indicator in Indo-European of kinship. Across Celtic, Germanic, Romance and other daughter groups of Indo-European, this series remains remarkably similar, only differentiated by regular sound shifts in each.

This indicates a whole system of grouping things and seeing the world – and that is what languages ultimately are. The system varies from place to place because things are grouped differently and the world is seen differently. This is the bridge between the issue of language origins and the issue of how languages are taught – because languages cannot be taught as parallel systems grouping things and seeing the world the same way. They are not.

This brings us to our cars. Asked what nationality a Volvo is, most people will say “Swedish”. Yet Volvo at the time of that model was owned by the American company Ford; now it is owned by the Chinese company Geely. But here’s the real issue – the car referred to was actually built in Belgium! Asked what nationality an Audi is, most people will say “German”. Audi is indeed a German company, ultimately owned by another German company - yet the car referred to was built in Spain. The idea that a single car manufacturer belongs to a particular country is meaningless; so is the idea that a single language belongs to a particular group. If you speak Swedish you may still be Finnish; if you are Swedish you may still speak Finnish; there is no one-for-one correspondence.

Here is the other thing: asked what colour that particular Volvo is, people differ – some say “grey”, some “blue”, yet in fact it is officially “green”. Most people looking at that particular Audi suggest it is “black” – yet it is officially “blue”. Different people literally see different things – super-imposing on to the world groupings and definitions which are not universal. Again, there is no one-for-one correspondence.

That is why I detest vocabulary books! These small jotters with the line down the middle of the page suggest that there is a one-for-one correspondence of absolute precision between a word in one language and a word in another. Almost the absolute opposite is the case.

Let us take Spanish, English, and German – three western Indo-European languages. The Spanish word “puerto” is of the same (Latinate) derivation as the English “port”; but German requires the separate “Hafen”, which is cognate with the English “haven”, which refers to ports in place names but now conveys more the sense of “hideaway”; the Spanish word is also cognate with the feminine form “puerta”, which may mean “door” in English or “Tuer” in German; but Spanish uses the same word for “gate”, whereas German requires another cognate “Tor” and English requires the completely separate “gate” (which originally conveyed more of a “gateway” or even “road”). Spanish and German can also use this word to mean “goal(post)”, but English requires “goal” for that. On the other hand, German and English use the same word for “goal(post)” as they do for “goal (scored)”, but Spanish requires the separate “gol” (but also allows the verb “golear” whereas German lacks “toren” and English lacks “to goal”). English can also use the word “goal” as in an objective, but here German requires the separate word “Ziel”; on the other hand, German “Ziel” can also mean “destination” (as in, say, a holiday destination), whereas “destination” is a Latinate word from which also the Spanish word “destino” is derived; “destino” may also convey the meaning “destiny”, which requires a separate though cognate word in English, but the completely distinct “Zufall” in German, although “Zufall” also conveys a meaning close to “luck”, whose ultimate German cognate “Glueck” conveys more the meaning of happiness (Spanish “suerte” and “felicidad” cover this range), but the word “chance” borrowed into English and German (but not Spanish) from French may carry the meaning of “luck” in English but not in German, which despite the word’s French origin applies only a particular meaning of “opportunity” shared in part with English.

So, note well – not a single word in that list carries the same range of meanings as it does in either of the other two. When this is the case for three languages of common origin and common inter-connection, it is even more marked when you move between continents.

This brings us to Ulster Scots. Firstly, we have established that language and ethnicity do not have a one-to-one correspondence, or even anything approaching one – so, not everyone who speaks Ulster Scots is an Ulster Scot; and not everyone who is an Ulster Scot speaks Ulster Scots (in fact, as a first language, a comfortable majority do not). Secondly, we have established that individuals words almost never have a one-to-one correspondence between even closely related languages or dialects – so, it is not appropriate to start with Ulster Scots by assuming that it is a direct equation of Standard English. As just a minor example, you may be “starvin’” with the cold or with hunger in Ulster Scots, but only with hunger in Standard English.

It is for this reason that my own Ulster-Scots grammar refuses to participate in what is, ultimately, a pointless “language versus dialect” debate. What it is, is a descendent of the same language as everything from English to Hindi; a means of expressing a view of the world; and a window into a culture (a culture in which some people self-identify as “Ulster Scots” and some do not). As a result, my own work makes a point not just of describing the language as it appears to me to be in literature and contemporary usage, but also linking it – to other standard Germanic languages; to other dialects of English; and of course to General Scots in Scotland. In this way we can give due respect to the Ulster-Scots culture and to the Ulster-Scots language, which also recognising that they are distinct from each other and are each the result of a vast range of different influences stretching back millennia.

STEM subjects must not take away from language learning

BBC Northern Ireland has picked up on a report http://m.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-northern-ireland-20512036 once again demonstrating Northern Ireland’s linguistic deficiencies.

For all the understandable buzz about STEM subjects, we are becoming too inclined to forget about our crisis in language learning. The issue is that we qualify too many lawyers, teachers and bureaucrats – but we qualify too few linguists just as we qualify too few scientists, engineers and entrepreneurs.

One of the reasons, of course, is our obsession with silos. There is still the 20th century notion that we should be qualified as one particular thing. Who on earth wants to be a linguist, whatever that is?!

But the 21st century is the century of the multi-skilled. It is not enough merely to be an accountant, or even an engineer. We need accountants with management skills, engineers with entrepreneurial mindsets, people in general able to cover numerous areas. And, if we are to export and create wealth, we need them all to be linguists!

Let us re-emphasise this: the majority of the world’s population is at least bilingual. Almost two-thirds of the European Union’s population is conversationally proficient in at least two languages. Most people in several different EU countries (notably Scandinavia and Benelux) speak three languages or more. You will have to excuse me, but the last time I visited the Netherlands or Sweden, I didn’t notice that this time taken up learning foreign languages had exactly restricted local engineering skills, scientific knowledge or innovation levels!

There isn’t a lot of point in creating all the most wonderful services and products in the world if we can’t sell them to the countries on our doorstep (the EU) or the rising economies (China, India, Brazil). They all speak English – but only when they’re selling to us! If we want to sell to them…

So no, we don’t need career linguists. We need a population of linguists – just like Scandinavia and Benelux. Learning languages should be fundamental to the education right from the start; they should be taught in a way which enables maximum flexibility to learn new ones; and they should also be managed so as to enhance our skills in our own language (something which, in itself, certainly would not restrict innovation or creativity). And we must forget about the tired old learning techniques involving separating languages unnaturally and then teaching people to memorise bits of a language rather than gain an intuitive feel for all of it.

Forget about an Irish Language Act. We need a Comprehensive Languages  [plural] Act, which fundamentally changes our attitude to languages and our modes of teaching and learning them.

Traffic signs, Ulster Scots, and riots…

How on earth do you link traffic signs, riots, and Ulster Scots? In this piece, I argue it will take a fundamentally different attitude to Northern Ireland identity if we are to stop the near annual violence which undoes so much good work in promoting investment, tourism and regeneration – via a look at traffic signs and Ulster-Scots strategies.

Thanks to Ulster Folk – the quarterly newspaper available now across Northern Ireland and County Donegal – for publishing this.
Traffic Signs

So, what is this about traffic signs? The first thing a foreign driver most likely notices arriving at Dover is the traffic signs – or, specifically, the distances on them, marked in miles rather than kilometres. The United Kingdom is one of only two countries remaining in the world which uses miles on its traffic signs (the other, of course, is the United States). Why is this?

It is not because miles are more practical than kilometres – there is nothing more practical about a unit of 1760 yards over a unit of 1000 metres!

It is not because the change is too complex – if vast countries such as Canada or our neighbours in Ireland can manage it, there is no reason we cannot.

It is in fact a matter of identity. It is a subtle way, one of many, in which the British define themselves as distinct. In broad terms, tradition is an exceptionally British value – whether it be maintenance of miles over kilometres, maintenance of apparently funny titles like “Lord Kilclooney” (don’t ever bet on wholesale Lords Reform), or maintenance of strange royal pageants (and forget about a British Republic!). No one can justify these logically or pragmatically – but they will continue to exist because they are all ways of connecting the British to their past and making us unique.

All nations have these quirks, of course. Spain has the vast, mysterious (and, to an outsider, somewhat loopy) rituals of the “Semana Santa” before Easter; German taxis must be a very specific cream colour (but do not ask anyone why); and so on.

Most obviously, returning to traffic signs, entering the Republic of Ireland, we move to kilometres but we also add the Irish (Gaelic) language. Again, this is not for any practical purpose – almost the entire population now speaks English in preference to Irish Gaelic, and thus Irish Gaelic is generally omitted from roadworks signs or temporary notices (as well as private advertisements, even in the Irish-speaking Gaeltacht area). Irish Gaelic is not added for any real practical purpose; it is, rather, a display of identity – again, a connection with Ireland’s Gaelic past (hence my use of the term “Irish Gaelic”) which provides for a unique sense of history and identity. This is not just a matter for traffic signs of course – match programmes for GAA games, for example, generally contain the names of the two teams on the cover in Irish Gaelic, with everything else in English, making the same essential symbolic point of identity. To others, it all seems daft – but then, to others, so do royal pageants, strange titles and distances in miles.

Ulster Scots

Objections to the campaign by some to add Irish to traffic signs in Northern Ireland take two forms: first, the practical objection that there is simply no point (and/or that they would merely be scrubbed out anyway in some locations, thus becoming further “markers” of the sectarian divide); and second, that if you are to have Irish you must also have Ulster Scots. I suspect most readers will have some sympathy with the first, but will find the second somewhat ludicrous. Why is this?

It is important to answer this question because, in response to Irish-language street name signs appearing in some parts of Northern Ireland, some people are beginning to suggest Ulster-Scots signs (something which has, of course, already been tried with unforeseen but frankly embarrassing consequences). There are two essential points here.

Firstly, Ulster Scots simply does not contain the same essentially symbolic power that Irish Gaelic does. Its appearance would not warm the hearts of the “Ulster-Scots nation” (nothing if not a pretty practical lot, however defined) the same way Irish Gaelic does for the “Irish Gaelic nation”. It does not carry any weight in identifying with an “Lowlands Germanic” past.

Secondly, “Ulster Scots” is being abused here as a substitute for “Unionist” or “Loyalist”, to get even with “Republican” areas which sometimes go for Irish-language signage. Yet in fact street names in Belfast are already heavily biased towards the Unionist world view. “Chichester Street”, “Kitchener Street”, “Victoria Street” are all obviously linked to people from Great Britain; “Sandyknowes”, “Kilconway” and “The Brae” are examples of directly Ulster-Scots names (either of geographic entities or people) – demonstrating the nonsense inherent in the proposal, because such names would require translation into English, not Ulster Scots! What are we to do with Anglo-Norman names such as “Whiteabbey”, Viking names such as “Strangford”, or Highlands Scottish names such as “Islandmagee”? Then there are names directly for places in Great Britain, or peers from them – for example “Oxford Street”, “York Gate” and “Carlisle Circus”.

Riots

“Carlisle Circus” was, of course, the focal point for this year’s riots. Last year it was Cluan Place; in 2005 it was Whiterock; and so on. Every year they happen, every year they get associated in some vague way at least with the Parades Commission, every year the rest of Northern Ireland asks questions about what this is doing for jobs, tourism and investment. Then the next year, the same thing happens again. It should have struck us by now that something is fundamentally wrong.

It is this: inherent within the 1998 settlement is the notion that we are to be bundled into one of two “communities”. This is not a la carte; it is a single set menu: we can have “Irish, Gaelic, Catholic, Green, Celtic, Nationalist/Republican”, or we can have “British, Ulster-Scots, Protestant, Orange, Rangers, Unionist/Loyalist”. What the “State” then attempts to do is balance everything up so that both “communities” feel fairly treated – yet, inevitably, this fails.

It fails for two prime reasons. The first – that not everyone fits neatly into either of those “communities” – is well rehearsed. The second – that even insofar as people do fit into those “communities”, the varying parts of them are not mirror images – is less well rehearsed but crucial to any solution to annual outbreaks of violence. Just as the simple truth is that the Irish Gaelic language is more important (or, at least, has a higher symbolic value) to your average Nationalist than Ulster Scots is to your average Unionist, it is also true that parading is more important to your average Unionist than it is to your average Nationalist; this is noting also the above point that language is irrelevant to many (if not most) Nationalists and parading is irrelevant to many (if not most) Unionists. Thus apparently straightforward and, to a great many people, highly appealing solutions – such as “stop all funding of minority languages” or “ban all parading” can be presented as fair and pragmatic, but are inherently heavily biased under the terms of the “two community” model we have decided to run with.

In other words, we are trying to maintain a balance but, because of the differing nature not only of our identities but also how we exhibit them (remember our traffic signs above), the balance is bound to fail. The result – inevitable if not justifiable – is civil disobedience by whichever “community” reckons it is getting a raw deal.

Conclusion

Traffic signs are a strange way to illustrate it, but the “two community” model can never be more than a safety valve. In countries as diverse as Lebanon and Belgium, it has already comprehensively failed in the long run. If we are serious about moving on – towards a permanent and proper peace unbroken by regular riots – one of the things we will have to do is move away from the “set menu” and towards a society in which the State’s role is to ensure everyone has the individual freedom to choose who they wish to be, and the individual responsibility to respect others’ choices in that regard.

We need to bin the word “reconciliation”

“Reconciliation” is one of those useful buzz words of the Northern Ireland peace process – useful, because it means anything to anyone and yet no one can possibly be opposed to it! For the community relations industry it has become gospel – “truth” would be a tricky sell because few of the current key players would gain from making it known in detail, but “truth and reconciliation” could make it all worthwhile. Yet in fact, here’s a truth: the word “reconciliation” itself contains an entirely false premise which makes any process of dealing with the past impossible. We need to bin it.

The problem should be obvious: the very word “reconciliation” pre-supposes that we were “conciled” in the first place. But we never were!

The word means to “recreate friendly relationships” or “bring things/people together again”. When, in the history of Ireland, were relationships between Protestant, Catholic and Dissenter truly “friendly”? When, in the history of Ireland, were we truly “together” with a common vision of and for Ireland? When, in the history of Ireland, were we truly “reconciled” to a society with freedoms and rights for all without preference for one or other particular group’s religious affiliation, national background or reading of history?

This issue goes beyond semantics. It enables each side to present “reconciliation” as a return to some “Golden Age” (say, Brian Boru’s Ireland or James Craig’s Northern Ireland), where everyone was apparently “conciled” (politely ignoring that, well, they weren’t). “Reconciliation” hints that a return to a dream may be possible provided everyone accepts our own terms (“If only more Protestants were like Wolfe Tone we’d all be reconciled” or “Remember when Catholics used to go to Orange parades, sure we’ll just reconcile to those good old days”). “Reconciliation” in fact means returning to bad old days or fantasies, where people were only (or would only be) “conciled” because some were obliged to accept the dominance of others.

In short, “reconciliation” is a backward-looking word – but the only truly “conciled” Ireland lies somewhere in the future. We need to forget about “reconciliation”, and start thinking about our first ever true “conciliation”.

Need to change vocabulary learning

I get frustrated by many things, but enraged by very few. One of those few is vocabulary lists.

Vocabulary lists? Vocabulary lists.

In language learning, I see so many vocabulary lists – at the back of text books; separate “vocab books” to be written out by students; at the bottom of language learning “units”. They are a scourge!

Why? Because a word in one language almost never carries the precise same meaning in another. Note again: almost never. The idea that you can write a word in one language in one column and then a direct equivalent in another column just does not belong to the real world.

Let me give an example: the Spanish word ‘puerto’ is of the same (Latinate) derivation as the English ‘port’; but German requires the separate ‘Hafen’, which is cognate with English ‘haven’, which now conveys more the sense of ‘hideaway’; the Spanish word is also cognate with the feminine form ‘puerta’ which may mean ‘door’ in English or ‘Tuer’ in German; but Spanish uses the same word for ‘gate’, whereas German requires another cognate ‘Tor’ and English requires the completely separate ‘gate’ (which originally conveyed more of a ‘gateway’ or even ‘road’). Spanish and German can also use this word to mean ‘goal(post)’, but English requires ‘goal’ for that. On the other hand, German and English use the same word for ‘goal(post)’ as they do for ‘goal (scored)’, but Spanish requires the separate ‘gol’ (but also allows the verb ‘golear’ whereas German lacks ‘toren’ and English lacks ‘to goal’). English can also use the word ‘goal’ as in an objective, but here German requires a separate word ‘Ziel’; on the other hand, in German ‘Ziel’ can also mean ‘destination’ (as in, say, a holiday destination), whereas ‘destination’ is a Latinate word from which also the Spanish word ‘destino’ is also derived; ‘destino’ also usually conveys the meaning ‘destiny’, which requires a separate though cognate word in English, but the completely distinct ‘Zufall’ in German, although ‘Zufall’ also conveys the meaning ‘luck’, whose German cognate ‘Glueck’ conveys more the meaning of ‘happiness’ (Spanish ‘suerte’ and ‘felicidad’ fit in at various stages here too), but the word ‘chance’ borrowed into English and German (but not Spanish) from French and used to mean ‘luck’ in English (close to its original meaning) cannot in fact be so used in German, which despite the word’s origin applies a specifically English meaning of a specific ‘chance at goal’…

Not a single word in that list, in any of three languages, has the same range of meanings as it has in either of the other two. And these are, by global standards, very closely related languages! That’s just how language works, meanings have to be picked up from contexts. So throw your vocab book up into the attic (or down into the cellar…)!

Scots orthography, and spellings in developing languages

Ulster Scots: A Short Reference Grammar is available now

I was pleased to see a constructive debate break out around my recently published grammar – available in the UK via Amazon, in most of the Eurozone also via Amazon, and in the United States via Createspace; or simply leave a comment.

However, despite my pleas within the book for it to be otherwise, the discussion was around orthography, and specifically around spelling. I do honestly think this debate usually takes the form of a desperate quest for answers before anyone has posed the right question!

Firstly, what would you be writing Scots (or specifically Ulster Scots) for? If it is to be a creative means of expression, there is no reason spelling should not also be relatively creative; if it is to express a large degree of localism, there is no reason each geographical dialect should not have its own forms; to some extent, Swiss German - a highly successful minority language in terms of post-war development – offers at least a partial model. If, on the other hand, it is to be a fully fledged standard language, spelling requires a system taking account of etymology (so that differing pronunciations in differing dialects can nevertheless be written the same way based on historical use, consider English “name” or “right”) and grammar (so that grammatical patterns are maintained in writing for ease of access, consider English “say” and “says”).

Secondly, what is the specific status of the written form? If it is a version of English, by all means use English spelling norms to reflect it (in the same way you might use “nyem” for “name” or “reet” for “right” when trying to demonstrate Geordie). If, on the other hand, it is separate from English, then there is a case for ignoring all English spelling norms and using new ones (provided they are consistent and accessible to learners and native users alike). Very often you may find you use the same spelling as English to reflect an apparently different sound. Thus to write the Ulster Scots for the coldest season of the year, you would write “wunther” if you were using the English spelling system (thus identifying it as a variant of English), but probably in fact “winter” if you were declaring it a separate language (because an Ulster-Scots speaker will know to pronounce that with a lower vowel and a dental sound anyway; in exactly the same way German also has “Winter”, pronounced differently).

Thirdly, are you developing an entirely new written form (this is often the case for Bantu or Native American languages, for example), or have you a literary tradition upon which to base one? If you have a literary tradition, do you wish to link to it or not? In the case of Scots, including Ulster Scots, it would seem to me foolish to throw away the ace in the pack that is the poetry of Burns; but others may not care about that, and may feel that modern accessibility is more important and that Burns is expendable.

Fourthly, having gone through all those choices, have you a system? You cannot write “deed” for “dead” but “heid” for “head” unless you can justify it on some systematic grounds, because it means no one can learn the system. You may, as in English, assign a slightly different system to words borrowed from a different source (as English does to some extent with words borrowed from Norman French versus those from Anglo-Saxon), but again there has to be a clear justification for and clarity about doing this. It is wise to remain within the bounds of norms applied to most European languages – for example, as a rule <c> followed by a high vowel (typically written <e>, <i> or <y> in English) is soft (in English like /s/, though different languages do it slightly different ways) but followed by other vowels it is hard (like /k/).

It is reasonable to make choices along these bounds, but also easy to spot documents with spellings which lack a system and show no evidence of having made these choices in any consistent way.

How “language” and “nation” often overlap

I raged last week about the false and dangerous assumption on the part of DCAL that the term “Ulster-Scots” could legitimately be followed by “language, heritage and culture” – as if “language” equates directly with its “heritage and culture”.

This map provides ample evidence of how false that proposition is. Transposed upon a map of linguistic boundaries in the inter-War years are current European borders. It is immediately obvious how distinct they are.

A Frenchman may speak Dutch, an Italian may speak French, a Swiss may speak Italian. Indeed a Slovak may speak Hungarian but a Hungarian may speak Slovak. With effort, a German may speak to a Dutchman and a Dane may speak to a Swede, but there is little chance of a French-speaking Swiss speaking to a German-speaking Swiss. A Spaniard may speak any of four native languages; a Croat, a Serb, a Bosnian, a Macedonian and a Montenegrin all speak the same one.

Of course languages and cultures intermix – but the whole point is that they do so with each other as they come into contact over generations. Hence English in Ireland is more influenced by Irish than it is in England.

The lesson of which is that the notion that only an “Ulster Scots” may speak “Ulster Scots” is plainly ludicrous.

Olympics and language

One of the peculiarities about the Olympics, evident to many, was the prevalence of the French language as the joint language of the Games.

On first view, this seems utterly bizarre. French is now well outside the top ten most spoken languages worldwide, regardless of how you count it. French-speaking countries hold no particular economic, political or cultural prominence in the 21st century. The world language is undoubtedly English, so why add French in London?

Interestingly, “BBC Oddities” tell us that French is in fact the first language of the IOC, based in Lausanne in French-speaking Switzerland and founded by a Frenchman. That is why French retains this apparently pecular status.

For all that, is it really appropriate for a language from a relatively small corner of Europe to retain such prominence on the world stage in the 21st century? Thoughts…?!