2,754 229 5MB
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Table of contents :
Cover
Title
Copyright
Contents
List of Illustrations
Acknowledgments and Dedication
List of Contributors
Introduction
Part I Languages in Their Social and Individual Environment
A Linguistic and Biological Diversity: Minority and Majority Languages, Endangerment and Revival
1 Biological Diversity and Language Diversity: Parallels and Differences
2 The Ecology of Language Contact: Minority and Majority Languages
3 Language Endangerment and Language Death: The Future of Language Diversity
4 The Economy of Language Ecology: Economic Aspects of Minority Languages
5 Language Evolution from an Ecological Perspective
6 Ecolinguistic Aspects of Language Planning
B Language Contact (Bilingualism and Multilingualism) and Contact Languages
7 Individual and Societal Bilingualism and Multilingualism
8 Linguistic Imperialism and the Consequences for Language Ecology
9 What Creolistics Can Learn From Ecolinguistics
10 Ecosystemic Linguistics
PART II The Role of Language Concerning the Environment (Biological and Ecological Sense)
A The Role of Language in Creating, Aggravating and Solving Environmental Problems
11 Positive Discourse Analysis: Rethinking Human Ecological Relationships
12 Using Visual Images to Show Environmental Problems
13 Investigating Texts about Environmental Degradation Using Critical Discourse Analysis and Corpus Linguistic Techniques
14 The Pragmatics of Metaphor: An Ecological View
B How Environmental Topics Appear in Texts and in the Media: Ecological and Unecological Discourse
15 Lexicogrammar and Ecolinguistics
16 The Treatment of Environmental Topics in the Language of Politics
17 Eco-Advertising: The Linguistics and Semiotics of Green(-Washed) Persuasion
18 ‘Global Warming’ or ‘Climate Change’?
19 Media Reports about Natural Disasters: An Ecolinguistic Perspective
C How Do Language and Discourse Transport Ecological and Unecological Ideas?
20 The Discursive Representation of Animals
21 Euphemisms for Killing Animals and for Other Forms of Their Use
22 Overcoming Anthropocentrism With Anthropomorphic and Physiocentric Uses of Language?
23 Ecolinguistics and Placenames: Interaction Between Humans and Nature
Part III Philosophical and Transdisciplinary Ecolinguistics
24 The Ethics of Scientific Language About the Environment
25 Ecolinguistics and Education
26 The Microecological Grounding of Language: How Linguistic Symbolicity Extends and Transforms the Human Ecology
27 Transdisciplinary Linguistics: Ecolinguistics as a Pacemaker into a New Scientific Age
28 Religion, Language and Ecology
Part IV New Orientations and Future Directions in Ecolinguistics
29 Ecolinguistics in the 21st Century: New Orientations and Future Directions
Index
The Routledge Handbook of Ecolinguistics
The Routledge Handbook of Ecolinguistics is the first comprehensive exploration into the field of ecolinguistics, also known as language ecology. Organized into three sections that treat the different topic areas of ecolinguistics, the Handbook begins with chapters on language diversity, language minorities, and language endangerment, with authors providing insight into the link between the loss of languages and the loss of species. It continues with an overview of the role of language and discourse in describing, concealing, and helping to solve environmental problems. With discussions on new orientations and topics for further exploration in the field, chapters in the last section show ecolinguistics as a pacesetter into a new scientific age. This Handbook is an excellent resource for students and researchers interested in language and the environment, language contact and beyond. Alwin F. Fill is Professor Emeritus of English Linguistics at the University of Graz, Austria. His main research areas are Ecolinguistics, Impact Linguistics, Language and Suspense and Linguistics for Kids. Hermine Penz is Associate Professor of English Linguistics at the University of Graz, Austria. Her main research interests lie in the fields of pragmatics and discourse, intercultural communication, and language and ecology. She is the Special Issues editor of the journal Pragmatics and Society.
Routledge Handbooks in Linguistics
Routledge Handbooks in Linguistics provide overviews of a whole subject area or subdiscipline in linguistics, and survey the state of the discipline including emerging and cutting edge areas. Edited by leading scholars, these volumes include contributions from key academics from around the world and are essential reading for both advanced undergraduate and postgraduate students. The Routledge Handbook of Linguistics Edited by Keith Allan The Routledge Handbook of Semantics Edited by Nick Riemer The Routledge Handbook of Linguistic Anthropology Edited by Nancy Bonvillain The Routledge Handbook of the English Writing System Edited by Vivian Cook and Des Ryan The Routledge Handbook of Metaphor and Language Edited by Elena Semino and Zsófia Demjén The Routledge Handbook of Systemic Functional Linguistics Edited by Tom Bartlett, Gerard O’Grady The Routledge Handbook of Heritage Language Education Edited by Olga E. Kagan, Maria M. Carreira and Claire Hitchins Chik From Innovation to Program Building Edited by Olga E. Kagan, Maria M. Carreira and Claire Hitchins Chik The Routledge Handbook of Language and Humor Edited by Salvatore Attardo The Routledge Handbook of Language and Dialogue Edited by Edda Weigand The Routledge Handbook of Language and Politics Edited by Ruth Wodak and Bernhard Forchtner The Routledge Handbook of Language and Media Edited by Daniel Perrin and Colleen Cotter Further titles in this series can be found online at www.routledge.com/series/RHIL
The Routledge Handbook of Ecolinguistics
Edited by Alwin F. Fill Hermine Penz
First published 2018 by Routledge 711 Third Avenue, New York, NY 10017 and by Routledge 2 Park Square, Milton Park, Abingdon, Oxon, OX14 4RN Routledge is an imprint of the Taylor & Francis Group, an informa business © 2018 Taylor & Francis The right of Alwin F. Fill and Hermine Penz to be identified as the authors of the editorial material, and of the authors for their individual chapters, has been asserted in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reprinted or reproduced or utilised in any form or by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publishers. Trademark notice: Product or corporate names may be trademarks or registered trademarks, and are used only for identification and explanation without intent to infringe. Every effort has been made to contact copyright-holders. Please advise the publisher of any errors or omissions, and these will be corrected in subsequent editions. Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Names: Fill, Alwin, editor. | Penz, Hermine, editor. Title: The Routledge handbook of ecolinguistics / edited by Alwin F. Fill, Hermine Penz. Description: New York, NY : Routledge, 2018. | Series: Routledge handbooks in linguistics | Includes bibliographical references and index. Identifiers: LCCN 2017008432 | ISBN 9781138920088 (hardback) | ISBN 9781317418016 (web pdf) | ISBN 9781317418009 (epub) | ISBN 9781317417996 (mobipocket/kindle) Subjects: LCSH: Ecolinguistics. Classification: LCC P39.5 .R68 2018 | DDC 306.44—dc23 LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2017008432 ISBN: 978-1-138-92008-8 (hbk) ISBN: 978-1-315-68739-1 (ebk) Typeset in Times New Roman by Apex CoVantage, LLC
Contents List of Illustrations Acknowledgments and Dedication List of Contributors Introduction Alwin F. Fill
ix xi xii 1
PART I
Languages in Their Social and Individual Environment A
Linguistic and Biological Diversity: Minority and Majority Languages, Endangerment and Revival
9 9
1 Biological Diversity and Language Diversity: Parallels and Differences Tove Skutnabb-Kangas and David Harmon
11
2 The Ecology of Language Contact: Minority and Majority Languages Albert Bastardas-Boada
26
3 Language Endangerment and Language Death: The Future of Language Diversity Suzanne Romaine
40
4 The Economy of Language Ecology: Economic Aspects of Minority Languages Alwin F. Fill
56
5 Language Evolution from an Ecological Perspective Salikoko S. Mufwene
73
6 Ecolinguistic Aspects of Language Planning Robert B. Kaplan
89
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B
Language Contact (Bilingualism and Multilingualism) and Contact Languages
107
7 Individual and Societal Bilingualism and Multilingualism Sabine Ehrhart
109
8 Linguistic Imperialism and the Consequences for Language Ecology Robert Phillipson and Tove Skutnabb-Kangas
121
9 What Creolistics Can Learn From Ecolinguistics Peter Mühlhäusler
135
10 Ecosystemic Linguistics Hildo Honório do Couto
149
PART II
The Role of Language Concerning the Environment (Biological and Ecological Sense) A
The Role of Language in Creating, Aggravating and Solving Environmental Problems
11 Positive Discourse Analysis: Rethinking Human Ecological Relationships Arran Stibbe 12 Using Visual Images to Show Environmental Problems Anders Hansen 13 Investigating Texts about Environmental Degradation Using Critical Discourse Analysis and Corpus Linguistic Techniques Richard J. Alexander 14 The Pragmatics of Metaphor: An Ecological View Jacob L. Mey B
How Environmental Topics Appear in Texts and in the Media: Ecological and Unecological Discourse
163 163
165 179
196 211
225
15 Lexicogrammar and Ecolinguistics Andrew Goatly
227
16 The Treatment of Environmental Topics in the Language of Politics Mai Kuha
249
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17 Eco-Advertising: The Linguistics and Semiotics of Green(-Washed) Persuasion Hartmut Stöckl and Sonja Molnar
261
18 ‘Global Warming’ or ‘Climate Change’? Hermine Penz
277
19 Media Reports about Natural Disasters: An Ecolinguistic Perspective Martin Döring
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C
How Do Language and Discourse Transport Ecological and Unecological Ideas?
309
20 The Discursive Representation of Animals Guy Cook and Alison Sealey
311
21 Euphemisms for Killing Animals and for Other Forms of Their Use Wilhelm Trampe
325
22 Overcoming Anthropocentrism With Anthropomorphic and Physiocentric Uses of Language? Reinhard Heuberger
342
23 Ecolinguistics and Placenames: Interaction Between Humans and Nature Joshua Nash
355
PART III
Philosophical and Transdisciplinary Ecolinguistics
365
24 The Ethics of Scientific Language About the Environment Brendon M. H. Larson
367
25 Ecolinguistics and Education George M. Jacobs
378
26 The Microecological Grounding of Language: How Linguistic Symbolicity Extends and Transforms the Human Ecology Sune Vork Steffensen
393
27 Transdisciplinary Linguistics: Ecolinguistics as a Pacemaker into a New Scientific Age Peter Finke
406
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28 Religion, Language and Ecology Todd LeVasseur
420
PART IV
New Orientations and Future Directions in Ecolinguistics
435
29 Ecolinguistics in the 21st Century: New Orientations and Future Directions Alwin F. Fill and Hermine Penz
437
Index444
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Illustrations
Figures 3.1 The global language divide: Distribution of languages and speakers 3.2 Languages with 100 million or more speakers as a percentage of world population 3.3a Twenty countries with highest number of languages 3.3b Twenty countries with highest index of linguistic diversity 3.4 Language endangerment by region using EGIDS scores 12.1 Iceberg graveyard 12.2 Power station, Hamburg Moorburg 12.3 Heads of delegations at the 2015 United Nations Climate Change Conference at Paris (COP21) 12.4 Stilt houses, coping with climate change 15.1 The canonical event model 16.1 A timeline of high-profile instances of environmental discourse with political repercussions 17.1 Panda’s eye 17.2 Maasai warrior 17.3 Spotted hands and marks of a hyena 17.4 Orangutan = cut of meat 17.5 Turtle and supermarket scanner 21.1 Overview of euphemizing strategies in language-world systems
42 42 44 44 48 182 182 183 187 233 250 269 271 271 272 273 327
Tables 3.1 IUCN Red List criteria applied to language endangerment 3.2 UNESCO’s Linguistic Vitality and Endangerment (LVE) 4.1 Welsh/English skills needed in different employment sectors 6.1 Characteristics of Southeast and East Asian polities 13.1 ‘Commitment’ concordance 13.2 Extract from the ‘engag***’ concordance 13.3 ‘Embedded’ concordance 13.4 ‘Threats’ concordance 13.5 Extract from the ‘will’ concordance 15.1 Degrees of latency in lexis and grammar 15.2 Process types in Hallidayan grammar
46 47 67 100 204 205 205 206 206 229 234 ix
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1 5.3 15.4 15.5 15.6 15.7 15.8
Patterns of ergative verbs Patterns of nonergative verbs Natural participants in clauses Natural participants in nominalizations Actors and Sayers in Thomas’ poems and The State of the World Participant roles as a percentage of all noun phrases within natural categories in The Prelude 19.1 General properties and important requirements of CDA and ECDA 19.2 Haugen’s catalog of questions to study and analyze an existing ecology of a given language 19.3 ECDA of environmental disasters 21.1 Overview of animal designations by use 25.1 Examples of speciesist and nonspeciesist language use
235 235 236 236 240 242 297 299 304 331 385
Boxes 1 9.1 Metaphors and foot-and-mouth disease in the UK in 2001 19.2 Constructing a reunited Germany during the Odra flood 1997 in Germany
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Acknowledgments and Dedication The editors gratefully acknowledge the kind help they have received from The Ecolinguistics Association, and in particular from their founder, Arran Stibbe (University of Gloucestershire). The Ecolinguistics Association has been of particular help in suggesting potential contributors. The following dedication was written by one of the founding figures of ecolinguistics, who was co-responsible for making ecolinguistics known around the world. Michael Halliday mentioned his name in the opening sentence of his famous talk “New Ways of Meaning,” which he gave at the AILA world conference in Thessaloniki (1990). Ecolinguistics through Rhymed Reflections: A Plea to Humankind by Francisco Gomes de Matos, a peace linguist, Recife, Brazil dedicated to the editors and the contributors of this volume 1. Instead of riding waves of hostility, sailing on seas of global serenity 2. Instead of describing floods and storms as Nature’s vengeful days, referring to those as Nature’s unpredictable ways 3. Instead of running in paths of material actuality, walking wisely in sands of spirituality 4. Instead of increasing urban pollution, bringing about fruitful evolution 5. Instead of environmental rights shamefully violating, Life-enhancing-and-sustaining responsibilities accentuating 6. Instead of all languages ecologically abusing, their users with ecolinguistic competence infusing 7. Instead of allowing deforestation, turning vegetable life into a community-supported operation 8. Instead of using water wastefully, implementing the global right to water wisely. 9. Instead of railing about global decay, Showing how ‘language’ waves problems away.
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Richard J. Alexander is Professor Emeritus of English for business and economics at the
Vienna University of Economics. A graduate of Jesus College, Cambridge, he taught and researched English as a foreign language, business English, linguistics and language and ecology for over 46 years at several European universities. He is the author of Framing Discourse on the Environment. A Critical Discourse Approach (2009).
Albert Bastardas-Boada has his doctorate from the Université Laval, Quebec, Canada. He
was a visiting professor and researcher at Indiana University, Bloomington; University of Alberta, Edmonton; University of California, Berkeley; and York University, Toronto. He is Professor of Sociolinguistics, Language Ecology and Language Policy at the Department of General Linguistics, Universitat de Barcelona (since 1987). He was the first director of CUSC (Centre Universitari de Sociolingüística i Comunicació) (1998–2010) and coordinator of the research group on Complexity, Communication and Sociolinguistics (Sociocomplexity). He is a member of the editorial board of Revista de llengua i dret, LSC—Llengua, societat i comunicació and Open Linguistics; director of the research project on ‘Globalization, intercommunication and national languages in medium-sized language communities’ (2010–2012); partner of the project ‘Globalization and social and family plurilingualism in medium-sized language communities in Europe’ (2013–2015); and director of the research project ‘EVOGEN—The (inter)generational evolution of bilingualisations. Language context, maintenance and shift’ (2016–2019). Guy Cook is Professor of Language in Education, King’s College, London. He has pub-
lished books on applied linguistics, language learning, stylistics, advertising and genetically modified (GM) agriculture. From 2002–2008 he directed a series of Economic and Social Research Council (ESRC) projects looking at public debates about food policy. He is currently principal investigator of the Leverhulme Trust project ‘People,’ ‘Products,’ ‘Pets’ and ‘Pests’: the Discursive Representation of Animals (http://animal- discourse.wordpress.com) running from 2013–2016.
Hildo Honório do Couto works in the Department of Linguistics, University of Brasília,
Brazil. He completed his PhD at the University of Cologne, Germany, on the phonology of the Paraguayan Guarani language and thus began his career as a phonologist and creolist. He published two books on the latter topics: O crioulo português da Guiné-Bissau (1994, in Germany) and Introdução ao estudo das línguas crioulas e pidgins (1996). Now he deals only with ecolinguistics, leading a group of investigators from several Brazilian universities. He published several other books, among which are Linguistica, ecologia e ecolinguística
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(2009) and the anthology O paradigma ecologico para as ciências da linguagem (2016). He created an ecolinguistics website (www.ecoling.unb.br) and an online journal (http:// periodicos.unb.br/index.php/erbel/index). He published several articles in Brazil and abroad and initiated the event Encontro Brasileiro de Ecolinguística (Brazilian Meeting of Ecolinguistics), which takes place every two years, the third one in 2016. Martin Döring, MA, PhD, studied Romance linguistics and art history at the University of Hamburg and at the Université de Sorbonne, Paris. He completed his PhD on the politics of media reporting in Germany and France about the great Odra flood of 2002. Until then, Martin worked on several research projects in Germany, the UK and the Netherlands. Coming back to Hamburg University, he joined the Centre for Biotechnology, the Environment and Society in 2007 where he investigated the social and cultural implications of systems and synthetic biology before he started working on the social and place-based framing of climate change at the Department of Geography. He has published widely in ecolinguistics, has organized several sessions on ecolinguistics at conferences and is also practically involved in environmental management and environmental conflicts. Sabine Ehrhart is Associate Professor in Ethnolinguistics at the Faculty of Language and
Literature, Humanities, Arts and Education of the University of Luxembourg. She is an expert on language contact and educational policies in plurilingual settings, with fieldwork experience in the South Pacific (creoles and pidgins), Europe (ecology of the classroom), Siberia (intercultural communication in workplace settings) and the Indian Ocean (family language policy).
Alwin F. Fill is Professor Emeritus of English Linguistics at Graz University (Austria). He studied English and Latin at the University of Innsbruck and undertook further studies at Queen’s College (University of Oxford, UK) and the University of Michigan (Ann Arbor, USA). His main research interests are ecolinguistics, language and suspense, the impact of language and linguistics for kids. He has published books on all these topics, most recently The Language Impact: Evolution, System, Discourse (2010) and Kinder- und Jugendlinguistik (2014). His books on ecolinguistics include The Ecolinguistics Reader (ed. with P. Mühlhäusler, 2001) and Sustaining Language: Essays in Applied Ecolinguistics (ed. with Hermine Penz, 2007). Peter Finke studied philosophy, biology and linguistics in Göttingen, Heidelberg and Oxford (St. Catherine’s). He brought out his first ecolinguistic publications in the late 1970s, advocating a strong theoretically based ecolinguistics. He conducted intensive studies concerning the differences between academic and citizen science. In 1982, he took the chair in the theory of science at Bielefeld University, where his teaching was interrupted for two years by being given the Gregory-Bateson chair (ad personam) in Evolutionary Cultural Ecology at Witten-Herdecke University. He had many visiting professorships in different countries and in 2004 was awarded an honorary doctorate by Lajos-Kossuth University at Debrecen (Hungary). He resigned voluntarily in 2005 in protest against the abuse of political power in scientific matters (‘Bologna reform’). His recent books on citizen science proved to be very successful. Andrew Goatly is an Honorary Professor at Lingnan University, Hong Kong, having
recently retired. During his wide-ranging career he taught in schools and universities in the xiii
Contributors
UK, Rwanda, Thailand, Singapore, Hong Kong and Austria. His main interests are in Critical Discourse Analysis, Eco-linguistics, Stylistics, Metaphor and Linguistic Humour. He has published widely, and his recent books include Washing the Brain: Metaphor and Hidden Ideology (2007), Explorations in Stylistics (2008), The Language of Metaphors (2011), Meaning and Humour (2012) and Critical Reading and Writing in the Digital Age (2016). He is now based in Canterbury, England. Anders Hansen is Senior Lecturer in the Department of Media and Communication, University of Leicester, UK. He is Associate Editor of Environmental Communication; Founder and immediate-past Chair of the IAMCR Group on Environment, Science and Risk Communication; Founding Member, and Executive Board Member and Secretary (2011–1015) of the International Environmental Communication Association (IECA). He is the editor (with Robert Cox) of The Routledge Handbook of Environment and Communication (2015) and (with David Machin) of Visual Environmental Communication (2015). He is the author of Environment, Media and Communication (2010) and editor (with Stephen Depoe) of the Palgrave Studies in Media and Environmental Communication book series. David Harmon works in the field of protected area conservation as the executive director of
the George Wright Society, a nonprofit association that promotes research in, management of and education about parks, protected areas and cultural sites. In addition, he has been a contributor to the theory and practice of biocultural diversity for some 20 years, having helped found the nongovernmental organization (NGO) Terralingua, which is devoted to that subject. More recently, he and his long-time collaborator, Jonathan Loh, have developed the Index of Linguistic Diversity, which has been adopted by the Biodiversity Indicators Partnership of the Convention on Biological Diversity. Harmon’s publications on biocultural diversity include In Light of Our Differences: How Diversity in Nature and Culture Makes Us Human and, with Loh, Biocultural Diversity: Threatened Species, Endangered Languages.
Reinhard Heuberger is an Assistant Professor in the Department of English at the University of Innsbruck, Austria. His research focuses on lexicography (learners’ dictionaries and online dictionaries) and ecolinguistics (and human–animal studies), as well as English dialectology. He was the co-director of the government-funded project SPEED (2006–2010) and also co-directed its follow-up project EDD Online (2011–2014), both concerned with the digitization and investigation of Joseph Wright’s English Dialect Dictionary. George M. Jacobs is a learning advisor at James Cook University, Singapore. He studied
Teaching English to Speakers of Other Languages at the University of Illinois–Chicago and Educational Psychology at the University of Hawai’i at Manoa. His main research interests are student-centered learning, particularly cooperative learning and extensive reading, and environmental education and humane education. Among his books on these topics are Simple, Powerful Strategies for Student Centered Learning (with Willy A. Renandya and Michael A. Power, 2016), Cooperative Learning and Teaching (with Harumi Kimura, 2013), Teachers Sourcebook for Extensive Reading (with Thomas S. C. Farrell, 2012), Nurturing the Naturalist Intelligence (with Loh Wan Inn, 2003) and English for Environmental Education (with Anita Lie and Susan Amy, 2002). His publications on ecolinguistics include a special issue of Animals and Society (ed. with Arran Stibbe, 2006) and ‘The Presentation of Animals in English as Additional Language Coursebooks’ in Language & Ecology (with Teh
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Jiexin and Michael J. Joyce, 2016). George is active in Vegetarian Society (Singapore). Many of his nonbook publications are available at www.georgejacobs.net. Robert B. Kaplan, PhD, is Professor Emeritus of Applied Linguistics at the University of Southern California (active 1960–1995). In 1998–1999 he was visiting Professor of Applied Linguistics at Meikai University (Japan). He is the editor of the Annual Review of Applied Linguistics, of Current Issues in Language Planning and of the Oxford Handbook of Applied Linguistics. He is on the Editorial Board of the Oxford International Encyclopedia of Linguistics and of various scholarly journals. He is the author of 60 books, 190 articles, 90 reviews and 10 governmental reports. He has had three Fulbright Fellowships and received two Vice-Chancellors’ Awards. He is the President of the American Association for Applied Linguistics, the Association of Teachers of English as a Second Language and the California Association of Teachers of English to Speakers of Other Languages. He presides over the National Association for Foreign Student Affairs and the Teachers of English to Speakers of Other Languages and is a member of the University of Southern California Faculty Senate. Mai Kuha earned her PhD in linguistics from Indiana University, Bloomington, and has taught at Ball State University since then, including a colloquium on language and ecology. She has published on climate change discourse and other ecolinguistic topics. Brendon M. H. Larson is an associate professor in the School of Environment, Resources
and Sustainability at the University of Waterloo, Canada. His interdisciplinary research concerns how conservation is changing in this era of widespread human impacts, with a focus on the role of metaphors at the science–society interface. His book Metaphors for Environmental Sustainability: Redefining our Relationship with Nature (2011) examined the implications of alternative metaphors used to conceptualize the environment; it was awarded the 2011 Oravec Research Award by the National Communication Association (U.S.). For more information on his research, please see his website www.brendonlarson.com.
Todd LeVasseur is Visiting Assistant Professor of Religious Studies and Environmental and
Sustainability Studies at the College of Charleston in Charleston, South Carolina, USA. He is also Director of the College’s Quality Enhancement Plan on Sustainability Literacy as a Bridge to addressing 21st Century Problems.
Jacob L. Mey is Professor Emeritus at the University of Southern Denmark from which he
retired in 1996. Throughout his career he worked at numerous universities in different parts of the world. His main interests include the pragmatics of language; in his view, pragmatics should be an ‘emancipatory’ science. He is the author of numerous articles on pragmatics and other linguistic subjects. He published a textbook in pragmatics (Pragmatics, 2001), a study on literary pragmatics (When Voices Clash, 2000), edited the Concise Encyclopedia of Pragmatics (2d ed. 2008) and co-edited several books. In 1977, he founded (with Hartmut Haberland) the Journal of Pragmatics of which he was Editor-in-Chief until 2010. In 2010, Jacob Mey founded (with Hartmut Haberland and Kerstin Fischer) the journal Pragmatics and Society, of which he remains the Chief Editor. Since 1996, he has also been the Chief Editor of RASK: International Journal of Language and Linguistics.
Sonja Molnar is a PhD student of English linguistics at Salzburg University, who is cur-
rently writing her systemic-functional thesis on the textual evolution of print advertisements xv
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(16th century up to date). She obtained her MA in English at Salzburg University with an additional major in marketing and international business. Peter Mühlhäusler is Professor Emeritus of Linguistics at the University of Adelaide, South Australia, and supernumerary Fellow of Linacre College (Oxford). He studied Afrikaans and Linguistics (Stellenbosch South Africa), Linguistic Science (Reading, UK) and Pacific Linguistics (Australian National University). He taught at the Technical University of Berlin and in the University of Oxford before becoming Foundation Professor of Linguistics at Adelaide. His main interests are Pidgins and Creoles, pronoun grammar, ecolinguistics and language economics. He has worked extensively on the revival of South Australian Aboriginal languages and the Pitkern-Norf’k language spoken by the descendants of the mutineers of the Bounty. He has published books and numerous articles on all of these topics. Salikoko S. Mufwene is the Frank J. McLoraine Distinguished Service Professor of Linguistics and the College at the University of Chicago, where he also serves as Professor on the Committee on Evolutionary Biology and on the Committee on the Conceptual and Historical Studies of Science. His current research is in evolutionary linguistics, which he approaches from an ecological perspective. Mufwene’s long list of publications includes The Ecology of Language Evolution (2001) and Language Evolution: Contact, Competition and Change (2008). He is the founding editor of the Cambridge Approaches to Language Contact series. Joshua Nash is a linguist and an environmentalist. His research intersects ethnography, the
anthropology of religion, architecture, pilgrimage studies and language documentation. He has conducted linguistic fieldwork on Norfolk Island, Pitcairn Island and Kangaroo Island; environmental and ethnographic fieldwork in Vrindavan, India; and architectural research in outback Australia. He is a postdoctoral research fellow in linguistics at the University of New England, Australia.
Hermine Penz is associate professor of English linguistics at the University of Graz. Her main research interests lie in the field of pragmatics and discourse, intercultural communication and language and ecology. She is the Special Issues editor of the journal Pragmatics and Society, has edited a number of books on ecolinguistics with Alwin Fill and has been involved in European projects in the field of language education. Robert Phillipson is an Emeritus Professor at Copenhagen Business School, Denmark. His main books are Linguistic Imperialism (1992), English-only Europe? Challenging Language Policy (2003) and Linguistic Imperialism Continued (2009). He has also edited books on language rights and multilingual education, including Why English? Confronting the Hydra (with Bunce, Rapatahana and Tupas, 2016) and Language Rights (four volumes, with Skutnabb-Kangas, 2016). He was awarded the UNESCO Linguapax prize in 2010. Suzanne Romaine is Professor Emerita, University of Oxford, where she held the Mer-
ton Chair of English Language from 1984 to 2014. She has received honorary doctorates from the University of Uppsala and the University of Tromsø and has held a variety of scholarships and visiting fellowships at other universities, including the Rotary International Foundation fellowship, the Canada Commonwealth Scholarship, Kerstin Hesselgren Professor for outstanding women in the Humanities and the Royden B. Davis Chair in
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Interdisciplinary Studies at Georgetown University. She was a resident fellow at the Center for Advanced Studies in the Behavioral Sciences at Stanford and was elected Fellow of the Finnish Academy of Science and Letters and the Norwegian Academy of Science and Letters. In 2015–2016 she was the Marie Curie Fellow of the European Union and Senior Fellow at FRIAS (Freiburg Institute for Advanced Studies), University of Freiburg. She has published numerous books and articles on linguistic diversity, multilingualism, language death, language revitalization and language change and contact. Alison Sealey is Professor of Applied Linguistics at Lancaster University, UK. She is coinvestigator on the project “ ‘People,’ ‘products,’ ‘pests’ and ‘pets’: the discursive representation of animals,” funded by the Leverhulme Trust. She has published widely about the role of discourse in representations of the social world, often using corpus-assisted methods. Tove Skutnabb-Kangas, bilingual from birth in Finnish and Swedish, has written or edited
close to 50 monographs and over 400 articles and book chapters, in 49 languages, about mother-tongue–based multilingual education, linguistic human rights, linguistic genocide and crimes against humanity in the education of Indigenous/tribal/minority/minoritized children, linguicism (linguistically argued racism), the subtractive spread of English and the relationship between biodiversity and linguistic diversity. She is the receiver of the Linguapax award 2003 and CABE’s Vision Award 2013. For more, see www.ToveSkutnabb-Kangas.org. Sune Vork Steffensen is a PhD from the University of Aarhus, Associate Professor and Director of the Centre for Human Interactivity at the University of Southern Denmark and Editor-in-Chief of the journal Language Sciences. Drawing on ecological, dialogical and distributed approaches to language and interactivity, his research interests include the functioning of complex social, dialogical and cognitive ecosystems and Cognitive Event Analysis, a qualitative method for studying behavioral and sense-making processes in human ecosystems. He has co-edited volumes on dialectical ecolinguistics (2007), biosemiotics and health interaction (2010), the distributed dynamics of language (Language Sciences, 2012) and ecolinguistics (Language Sciences, 2014). Arran Stibbe is a reader in Ecological Linguistics at the University of Gloucestershire,
UK, author of Ecolinguistics: Language, Ecology and the Stories We Live By (2015), Animals Erased: Discourse, Ecology and Reconnection with Nature (2012) and editor of The Handbook of Sustainability Literacy (2009). He has a background both in linguistics and human ecology, and teaches a range of courses, including ecolinguistics, ecocriticism, ethics and language, communication for leadership, discourse analysis and language and identity.
Hartmut Stöckl is full professor of English and Applied Linguistics at Salzburg University, Austria. His main research areas are in semiotics, text linguistics/stylistics, pragmatics and multimodal communication. He is particularly interested in the linkage of language and image in modern media, typography and an aesthetic appreciation of advertising. Wilhelm Trampe, born in 1955, studied economics, pedagogy, German language and literature at the Universities of Osnabrück and Bielefeld and took a correspondence course in ecology at the University of Tübingen. He obtained his PhD at the University of Bielefeld xvii
Contributors
with a dissertation about “Aspects of an Ecological Linguistics” in 1988. He has numerous publications about the theoretical and practical relations between language and ecology. He is now researcher and lecturer at the Institute for Cultural and Educational Sciences of the University of Osnabrück; his key research areas are ecolinguistics, ecosemiotics, communication ecology, sustainability and education, as well as didactics for German.
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Introduction Alwin F. Fill
1. Can language diversity be sustained on this earth? Can the resource language be used in a sustainable way? Ecolinguistics addresses language loss and language maintenance in the age of globalization and the question of how language construes our view of nature and environment. 2. Ecolinguistics, then, is about critiquing forms of language that contribute to ecological destruction and aiding in the search for new forms of language that inspire people to protect the natural world. These two short excerpts succinctly describe the most important topics which ecolinguistics, in the 45 years of its existence, has dealt with. The first one is from the cover of a collection of articles entitled Sustaining Language (Fill and Penz, 2007) and stresses the interest of ecolinguists in language diversity and language endangerment. The second one is from Arran Stibbe’s latest book (2015: 1, titled Ecolinguistics, Language, Ecology and the Stories We Live By) and shows the concern ecolinguists feel about the role of language in the deterioration of the environment and the hope they have of finding uses of language for the protection of the natural world. The topics that these two quotations address are dealt with in Parts I and II of this volume. Part III contains recently added topics with a philosophical background, and Part IV offers a look into the future.
Historical Aspects ‘Ecology,’ the concept which made ecolinguistics possible, has its origin in the 19th century, in which Charles Darwin looked at the ‘evolution’ of organisms and the development of humans in this evolution. In a book published in 1866, one of his followers, the German biologist Ernst Haeckel, used the term ‘ecology’ (‘Ökologie’) for the first time, defining it as follows: “the study of the interrelations between organisms and their living and nonliving surroundings—including organisms of the same and of other species” (1866/II: 286; editors’ translation). This was the beginning of an ecological approach to all life phenomena, in which the mutual relations between the different forms of life and between living and nonliving entities were studied. In 1935, Arthur G. Tansley created the idea of an ‘eco-system’ 1
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in an article published in the journal Ecology, which was founded in 1920 (Tansley, 1935: 299ff.). Authors such as Amos H. Hawley (1986) used the term ‘ecology’ in connection with social community. In the 1960s, the term ecological acquired its now very common meaning of ‘biological, natural, environmentally friendly.’ Rachel Carson’s book Silent Spring (1962) was one of the driving forces behind what is now called the ‘ecological movement.’ The American linguist Einar Haugen took note of this when he wrote that ecology “has become the banner of a movement for environmental sanitation” (1972: 329). Haugen’s own use of ecology in connection with language, however, was a different one, viz. one that was responsible for the two strands of ‘ecolinguistics’ today (see the section “Complementary Strands of Ecolinguistics). In Western scholarship, ecolinguistics has become increasingly well established within mainstream linguistics. There are chapters on ecolinguistics in several linguistic handbooks, for example, The Blackwell Handbook of Language and Globalisation (Coupland, 2012); ecolinguistics is the topic of an invited feature article in the journal Critical Discourse Studies (Stibbe, 2014) and has received a special issue of the journal Language Sciences (2014). However, its future is seen by some authors as a ‘pacemaker into a new Scientific Age’ (cf. the title of Finke’s contribution in this volume). The new scientific age, it is forecast, will be one in which disciplines merge and lose their boundaries, and ecolinguistics will be one of the main contributors to this development.
The Term ‘Ecolinguistics’ In the next section of this introduction, two complementary strands of ecolinguistics are described, for which the terms ‘the ecology of language(s)’ and ‘ecological linguistics’ have been suggested. However, because these strands are not opposed to each other, but complement each other standing side by side, it is advisable to use an overall or umbrella term that encompasses both strands. The term ‘ecolinguistics’ has turned out to be the best word to comprise all approaches to language and ecology. In a Handbook of Ecolinguistics, it is certainly of interest to pursue the origin of the title word Ecolinguistics, particularly because the word has been used by authors with different backgrounds. What follows is a brief discussion of the history of this term. For a time, it was believed that the French linguist Claude Hagège was the first to use the term, when in his book L’Homme de paroles (1985: 246) he criticized the centralizing policies (against dialects) that were used in the French Revolution and demanded the creation of an ‘écolinguistique’ to combat these monocultural policies (cf. Fill, 2001: 44, and Weinrich, 2001: 95f.). However, the Brazilian ecolinguist Hildo Honorio do Couto (see Chapter 10 of this volume) has since discovered earlier uses of the term (emails January 8, 2013, and April 16, 2014, to the Ecolinguistics List). Kurt Salzinger used it in 1979 in a psycholinguistic sense, as the title of his article “Ecolinguistics: a radical behavior theory approach to language behavior” shows. Ecolinguistics also occurs in Henri Gobard’s book L’Aliénation linguistique (1976), where he mentions that in 1974, Joe Darwin Palmer proposed a new discipline called ecolinguistics, which would have as its object the ethno-psycho-sociolinguistics of cultural politics. The French sociolinguist Jean-Baptiste Marcellesi seems to have been familiar with the term (do Couto), because he used it three times in an article from 1975 about ‘langues regionals.’ These may have been the first uses of the term in writing. However, do Couto adds that Adam Makkai told him that Einar Haugen had suggested the word orally to him during a conference in Chicago in 1972. 2
Introduction
Complementary Strands of Ecolinguistics This handbook wishes to do justice to all the ideas that researchers have assembled under the umbrella term ‘ecolinguistics.’ In a simplified form, they can be summarized as follows: ecolinguistics deals with the role of language concerning the environment (in its biological/ ecological sense). In other words, ecolinguistics deals with the impact of language and discourse in describing, but also aggravating and perhaps alleviating, environmental problems. This use of ‘ecolinguistics’ is the more modern one subscribed to by the majority of linguists concerned about the environment. Topics pertaining to this use of ‘ecolinguistics’ will be summarized in the next section, but one section in this introduction (“Language, Discourse and Ecology: Ecological Linguistics”) and the chapters concerning this strand can be found in Part II of the handbook. Chronologically, the older approach is that in which biological diversity is compared to linguistic diversity and in which topics such as the relations between languages in their individual environment (the human brain) and their social one (in a society, a state or on a particular continent) are dealt with. These topics will be summarized in the following section, “The ‘Ecology’ of Language(s),” and the chapters concerning this strand will be found in Part I of the handbook. In the 21st century, several ecolinguists have begun to see ecolinguistics no longer as a discipline within the study of language, but as a unified ecological worldview, in which harmony between humans and nature is expressed. For these scholars, questions of ethics and even of religion stand in the foreground. Some scholars see ecolinguistics as a science that transcends all other sciences and paves the way to transdisciplinarity (cf. Finke, chapter 27, this volume). For other scholars, ecolinguistics leads to a new ‘holistic’ worldview, in which “everything is inter-connected, inter-dependent and inter-acting” and in which “the earth, Gaia, is a living unity and a complex system” (Døør and Madsen, 2007: 268). These philosophical approaches to ecolinguistics are dealt with in the five chapters of Part III of the handbook. Those based on Chinese thinking (Confucianism and Taoism) will be discussed in the last chapter of the volume (“Ecolinguistics in the 21st Century: New Orientations and Future Directions”).
The ‘Ecology’ of Language(s) The first use of ecology in connection with language occurred in 1964 in an article about Native American languages, when Carl F. Voegelin and Florence M. Voegelin used the term ‘linguistic ecology’ in connection with the languages of a particular area. The Voegelins wrote the following about this term: “in linguistic ecology, one begins not with a particular language but with a particular area, not with selective attention to a few languages, but with comprehensive attention to all the languages in the area” (1964: 2). In August 1970, Einar Haugen, an American linguist of Norwegian descent (1906–1994), gave a groundbreaking talk about “The Ecology of Language” (published as Haugen, 1972 and reprinted in Fill and Mühlhäusler, 2001: 57–66). This event has justifiably been called “the birth of language ecology” (Eliasson, 2015). Haugen referred to the paper of the Voegelins, but developed his own theory, which is based on his definition of ‘language ecology’ “as the study of interactions between any given language and its environment” (1972: 325). Perhaps it is worth quoting in full Haugen’s idea of the environment of a language and the two parts of a language’s ecology (1972: 325, italics added): The true environment of a language is the society that uses it as one of its codes. Language exists only in the minds of its users, and it only functions in relating these users to 3
Alwin F. Fill
one another and to nature, i.e. their social and natural environment. Part of its ecology is therefore psychological: its interaction with other languages in the minds of bi- and multilingual speakers. Another part of its ecology is sociological: its interaction with the society in which it functions as a medium of communication. The 10 ‘ecological questions’ that Haugen asks at the end of his paper refer to a number of social and linguistic topics, among them the following (1972: 336f.): • • • •
What is [a language’s] classification in relation to other languages? What are its domains of use? What concurrent languages are employed by its users? What internal varieties does the language show?
In Haugen’s Ecology of Language, ‘ecology’ is considered a dynamic concept, in which mutual relationships, language minorities and the future of language diversity play an important role: Ecology suggests a dynamic rather than a static science, something beyond the descriptive that one might call predictive or even therapeutic. What will be, or should be, for example, the role of “small” languages; and how can they, or any other language, be made “better,” “richer,” and more “fruitful” for mankind? (Haugen, 1972: 329) Although many ecolinguists no longer see Haugen’s topics as part of their research area, others still do. This is why, in this handbook, the Haugenian approach (called ‘Ecology of Languages’ by Mühlhäusler in 2002) is still represented with 10 contributions (Part I, Sections A and B), which concern, for instance, biological diversity and language diversity, language endangerment and language death, as well as individual and societal bilingualism and multilingualism.
Language, Discourse and Ecology: Ecological Linguistics At the 1990 AILA conference in Thessaloniki (Greece), Michael Halliday (born in 1925) gave a talk with the title “New Ways of Meaning: The Challenge to Applied Linguistics.” In this talk, which was first published in the Journal of Applied Linguistics (6, 1990: 7–36) but reprinted several times—the quotations here are from the reprint of 2001—he adopted the view formulated by Benjamin Lee Whorf that “language does not passively reflect reality; language actively creates reality” (Halliday, 2001: 179), and “the task for applied linguistics here is to interpret the grammatical construction of reality” (2001: 182, italics by Halliday). Among the consequences of this language impact for humans and their ‘environment’ are the facts that language construes resources like air, water, soil, coal, iron and oil as unbounded (cf. 2001: 194) and that “language creates discontinuity between ourselves and the rest of creation” (2001: 195). Language also “promotes the ideology of growth or growthism” (2001: 196)—the growth of anything human at the cost of what we call nature or ‘the environment.’ Although the word ecological occurs only once in Halliday’s paper (2001: 193, where he writes about people “who are ecologically aware” and who should become the normal category of humans rather than eccentrics), he addresses quite a number of the topics that 4
Introduction
have their place in modern ecolinguistics. Although Halliday mostly speaks of the role of ‘grammar,’ more recently the role of the language system (including grammar and lexis) and particularly of discourse and the media concerning human impact on the environment have been topicalized. Put in a nutshell, Halliday was the first to ask the following question, which is now central to the field of ecolinguistics: “Do linguistic patterns, literally, affect the survival and wellbeing of the human species as well as other species on Earth?” (Steffensen and Fill, 2014: 9, quoted by Stibbe, 2015: 8). In the 1990s, the term ‘ecoliteracy’ was coined by David Orr and Fritjof Capra for an awareness of ecological problems and the role language plays in creating this awareness (see Orr, 1992; Capra, 1995). In this volume, all the topic areas connected with this question are treated in Part II, with Section B particularly concentrating on discourse.
The Philosophical Side of Ecolinguistics Ecolinguistics also has a philosophical side, which considers ethical and religious aspects of human ecology. Some scholars see ecolinguistics as a kind of ideology that creates an awareness of the interdependence of all things and ideas. Here, ecolinguistics goes far beyond being merely a branch of linguistics and becomes a way of looking at the world. Ecolinguistics may also be a pace-maker in the age of transdisciplinarity and may show the use of methods and processes that have hardly been considered so far, such as citizen science, in which people not connected with a university collect materials and help scholars to see the applicability and the down-to-earth side of their scholarship (Finke, this volume). Part III of this handbook contains a few chapters that consider this side of ecolinguistics. In the further development of ecolinguistics, Chinese philosophy (Confucianism and Taoism) will play a more and more important role (see Chapter 29 of this handbook).
Creating a Worldwide Community of Ecolinguists Ecolinguists from all continents have met at many conferences to discuss the topics outlined earlier and to exchange views about different research areas, particularly about the role of language and discourse concerning the environment and the climate. At the AILA conference in Thessaloniki, in 1990, there was already a workshop organized by Frans Verhagen (see Verhagen, 2000: 33). In 1995, the first symposium organized by the Graz group of ecolinguists took place (in Klagenfurt, Carinthia), whose results were published in Fill (1996). Further workshops and conferences on topics of ecolinguistics were held, among other venues, in Münster/Westfalen, Bielefeld, Wuppertal and Cologne (Germany), Graz (Austria), Tokyo (Japan), Brazilia (Brazil), Odense (Denmark) and Asti (Italy). In November 2016, the first ecolinguistics conference in China was held in Guangzhou (South China). An important step towards creating an ecolinguistic community with representatives all over the world was taken by Arran Stibbe, who established the online Ecolinguistics List, which makes it possible to address ecolinguists all over the world. He is also the initiator of The International Ecolinguistics Association (IEA) (originally Language and Ecology Research Forum), which edits the online journal Language and Ecology. Ever since the creation of these online platforms, researchers interested in language and ecology have had the opportunity to voice questions, suggestions and new ideas to the ecolinguistics community worldwide and to publish articles in the journal. Today (2017), the Ecolinguistics Association is a network of about 450 researchers from around the world who share ideas and opinions about language and environment and write 5
Alwin F. Fill
articles on the different topics of ecolinguistics. The association is convened by Arran Stibbe (University of Gloucestershire), who is the author of Chapter 11 of this volume, and anyone interested in ecolinguistics can join it. In recent years, Chinese scholars have developed a particular interest in ecolinguistics, which has led to the founding of the Centre for Ecolinguistics at South China Agricultural University initiated by Huang Guowen, to two special issues of the Journal of Poyang Lake and to the first international conference on ecolinguistics in China (November 25 to 27, 2016, South China Agricultural University, Guangzhou). It is hoped that the present volume will contribute to making ecolinguistics known in even wider circles of scholarship all over the world and in regions of the Earth where up to now language has not yet been connected with ecology and with questions concerning the environment and climate. The contributions to this volume also contain suggestions as to where further ecolinguistic research is particularly needed.
References Capra, F. (1995), The Web of Life. New York: Harper Collins. Carson, R. (1962), Silent Spring. Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company. Coupland, N. (ed.) (2012), The Handbook of Language and Globalization (Blackwell Handbooks). Hoboken, NJ: Wiley-Blackwell. Døør, J. and Madsen, D. B. (2007), ‘Food for Thought—Metabolism and Metaphors’, in A. Fill and H. Penz (eds.), Sustaining Language: Essays in Applied Ecolinguistics. Wien, Berlin: LIT Verlag, pp. 267–278. Eliasson, S. (2015), ‘The birth of language ecology: Interdisciplinary influences in Einar Haugen’s “The ecology of language” ’, Language Sciences, 50: 78–92. Fill, A. (ed.) (1996), Sprachökologie und Ökolinguistik: Referate des Symposions ‘Sprachökologie und Ökolinguistik’ an der Universität Klagenfurt, Oktober 1995. Tübingen: Stauffenburg Verlag. Fill, A. (2001), ‘Ecolinguistics: State of the Art 1998’, in A. Fill and P. Mühlhäusler (eds.), The Ecolinguistics Reader: Language, Ecology and Environment. London, New York: Continuum, pp. 43–53. Fill, A. and Mühlhäusler, P. (eds.) (2001), The Ecolinguistics Reader: Language, Ecology and Environment. London, New York: Continuum. Fill, A. and Penz, H. (eds.) (2007), Sustaining Language: Essays in Applied Ecolinguistics. Wien, Berlin: LIT Verlag. Gobard, H. (1976), L’Aliénation linguistique: analyse tétraglossique. Paris: Flammaron. Haeckel, E. (1866), Generelle morphologie der organismen: Allgemeine grundzüge der organischen formen-wissenschaft, mechanisch begründet durch die von Charles Darwin reformierte descendenztheorie. 2 vols. Berlin: G. Reimer. (For the term ‘Ökologie’, see vol. II, p. 286). Hagège, C. (1985), L’Homme de paroles: Contribution linguistique aux sciences humaines. Paris: Hachette. Halliday, M. A. K. (1990), ‘New ways of meaning: The challenge to applied linguistics’, Journal of Applied Linguistics, 6: 7–36. Reprinted in A. Fill and P. Mühlhäusler (eds.) (2001), pp. 175–202. Haugen, E. (1972), ‘The Ecology of Language’, in A. S. Dil (ed.), The Ecology of Language: Essays by Einar Haugen. Stanford: Stanford University Press, pp. 325–339. Reprinted in A. Fill and P. Mühlhäusler (eds. 2001), pp. 57–66. Hawley, A. H. (1986). Human Ecology: A Theoretical Essay. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Marcellesi, J.-B. (1975), ‘Basque, breton, catalan, corse, flamand, germanique d’Alsace, occitan: l’enseignement des ‘langues régionales’, Langue française, 25: 3–11. Mühlhäusler, P. (2002), ‘Ecology of Languages,’ in R. B. Kaplan (ed.), The Oxford Handbook of Applied Linguistics. Oxford: Oxford University Press, pp. 374–387.
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Orr, D. (1992), Ecological Literacy: Education and the Transition to a Postmodern World. New York: SUNY Press. Palmer, J. D. (1974), ‘Language ecology’, TESOL Quarterly, 8(3): 225–232. Salzinger, K. (1979), ‘Ecolinguistics: A Radical Behavior Theory Approach to Language Behavior’, in D. Aaronson and R. W. Rieber (eds.), Psycholinguistic Research: Implications and Applications. New York: Lawrence Erlbaum, pp. 109–129. Steffensen, S. V. and Fill, A. (2014), ‘Ecolinguistics: The state of the art and future horizons’, Language Sciences (special issue) 41, Amsterdam: Elsevier, pp. 6–25. Stibbe, A. (2014), ‘An ecolinguistic approach to critical discourse studies’, Critical Discourse Studies, 11(1): 117–128. Stibbe, A. (2015), Ecolinguistics: Language, Ecology and the Stories We Live By. Abingdon, New York: Routledge. Tansley, A. G. (1935), ‘The use and abuse of vegetational concepts and terms’, Ecology, 16: 284–307. Verhagen, F. C. (2000), ‘Ecolinguistics: A retrospect and a prospect’, in B. Kettemann and H. Penz (eds.), ECOnstructing Language, Nature and Society: The Ecolinguistic Project revisited. Tübingen: Stauffenburg, pp. 33–48. Voegelin, C. F. and Voegelin, F. M. (1964), ‘Languages of the world: Native America Fascicle One’, Anthropological Linguistics, 6(6): 2–45. Weinrich, H. (2001), ‘Economy and ecology in language’, in A. Fill and P. Mühlhäusler (eds.), 91–100.
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Part I
Languages in Their Social and Individual Environment I. A. Linguistic and Biological Diversity: Minority and Majority Languages, Endangerment and Revival
1 Biological Diversity and Language Diversity Parallels and Differences Tove Skutnabb-Kangas and David Harmon
Introduction: Definitions and Today’s Situation – Language Ecology/Ecolinguistics Language plus ecology = language ecology, linguistic ecology, ecolinguistics? Today’s interpretations of what language ecology is range widely. Many researchers use ‘ecology’ simply as a reference to ‘context’ or ‘language environment,’ to describe language-related issues embedded in (micro or macro) sociolinguistic, educational, economic or political settings rather than decontextualized. Here ‘ecology’ has often become a fashionable term for simply situating language or language study in some way (i.e., it is a metaphor). Others have more specific definitions and subcategories (e.g., articles in Fill and Mühlhäusler, 2001; Mufwene, 2001; Mühlhäusler, 1996, 2003). In language ecology or linguistic ecology the ecological aspects are emphasized, just as language sociology is more sociologically oriented. On the other hand, ecolinguistics seems to draw more on linguistics, analyzing how languages and their users treat and analyze ecological issues (see Stibbe, 2015, and this volume), just as sociolinguistics often is more linguistically oriented than language sociology. The two pioneers, Jørgen Chr. Bang and Jørgen Døør, working with ecolinguistics since the early 1970s, defined ecolinguistics as follows in 1993: “Ecolinguistics is the part of critical, applied linguistics concerned with the ways in which language and linguistics are involved in the ecological crisis. Ecolinguistics is a critical theory of language/linguistics and is both partisan and objective” (see www. jcbang.dk/main/ecolinguistics/index.php). In this chapter ( just as in Phillipson and Skutnabb-Kangas, this volume), we endorse Wendel’s definition: “The ecological approach to language considers the complex web of relationships that exist between the environment, languages, and their speakers” (Wendel, 2005: 51). We understand ‘environment’ here as not only the social (including linguistic) but also the physical environment. We use ecology in its literal sense (i.e., not merely as a metaphor) to refer to the biological relationships of organisms (including human beings) to one another and to their physical surroundings. There has been a tendency of many sociolinguists to pay only lip service to this literal sense of ‘ecology’ and to focus only on social concerns. They see the ‘eco-’ in ecolinguistics/language ecology as a relationship within 11
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and between various languages, speakers of these languages and their sociocultural and economic contexts.
Linguistic Diversity What is linguistic diversity or language diversity? The term ‘language’ is extremely imprecise. One cannot define what ‘language’ is if one does not analyze those power relations that are decisive for whose definitions are valid about whether something is a language or not and why it is this definition prevails (see Skutnabb-Kangas, 2000: Chapter 1, for a discussion of what a language is; see also Macaulay, 1997). Borders of a concept are often in the perceptions of the observer rather than in the characteristics of the observed: languages are, above all, protean. One example of the porous borders is the 17th edition of Ethnologue, the most comprehensive global source list for (mostly oral) languages (Lewis et al., 2014). It lists 7,106; see https:// www.ethnologue.com/faq/Languages languages, but over 40,000 alternative names or labels for various languages. The existence and countability of languages has also been questioned, albeit on somewhat shaky grounds (e.g., Makoni and Pennycook, 2007). Even if we knew what a language is, we certainly have extremely unreliable figures for the number of speakers for most of them, including the largest ones, where the differences of estimates of the speakers of the same language may be tens of millions (see SkutnabbKangas, 2000). The concepts used, language and ‘native’ speakers (not to mention mother tongues) are relational, not characteristics of people; they are social constructs, not inherited givens; they are hybrid and nomadic, dynamic and changing, not static; people may claim several of them at the same time and be multilingual and multicultural, and multiethnic, or ‘bicountrial.’ All of them play ever-changing roles for people’s multiple identities and are variously focused and emphasized in various situations and at various times; their salience is always variable. All identities, not only language-related ones, are, of course, constructed to the extent that we are not born with identity genes. Even in cases where we are talking about phenotypically visible features like skin color, very obviously the way these features are interpreted are social constructions, not innate. If we could define ‘language’ and ‘native speaker,’ we might then equate the relative linguistic diversity of geographical units, for instance, countries/states, with their linguistic richness—the number of languages spoken natively in the country. The most linguistically diverse countries would then be the ones with the most languages. Papua New Guinea, with its 838 languages, would be the uncontested world champion. Another way of measuring linguistic diversity is by Greenberg’s diversity index, which is the probability that any two people of the country selected at random would have different mother tongues. The highest possible value, 1, indicates total diversity (that is, no two people have the same mother tongue) while the lowest possible value, 0, indicates no diversity at all (that is, everyone has the same mother tongue). (Lewis et al., 2014, explanation to Table 8 at www.ethnologue.com/17/statistics/country/) A third way to measure linguistic diversity is to combine measures of language richness (the number of languages) with language evenness (the relative distribution of speakers among a given set of languages under consideration). This is the approach Harmon and Loh used in their Index of Linguistic Diversity (2010).
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Biodiversity and Language Diversity
All these ways of measuring linguistic megadiversity can be contested. Clinton Robinson (1993), for example, argues that the most diverse country is not the one with the largest number of languages, but the one where the largest linguistic group represents the lowest percentage of all linguistic groups. Thus, there can be a very big difference in the list of the world’s linguistically most diverse countries, depending on which of these measures we use (although at a national level, there is no doubt that Papua New Guinea ranks first). The first sociolinguistic attempts to explore linguistic ecology pleaded for linguistics to be grounded in societal context and change. Trim (1959) and Haugen’s seminal 1971 article entails multidisciplinarity and builds on multilingual scholarship (of the works cited by Trim, eight are in German, six in English and four in French; academia has become more monolingual in globalization processes). Haugen refers to status, standardization, diglossia and glottopolitics, but not to language rights (the concept did not exist then—see SkutnabbKangas, 2007). The first serious academic discussion about threats to linguistic diversity was started in 1992 by Michael Krauss. He warned that looming language extinctions were a major but unappreciated threat to the practice of linguistics itself (for more detail, see below [stet the original, which is clearer]). In the same edition of Language, Peter Ladefoged (1992) presented a less worried view. Since 1992, the discussion about language endangerment, and attempts to counteract it, have grown exponentially (Simons and Lewis, 2013, provide a summary). Bearing in mind the intrinsic pitfalls in identifying and quantifying languages, some basics follow about linguistic diversity. There are probably between 6,500 and 10,000 spoken (oral) languages in the world and a large number of sign languages. Europe and the Middle East together account for only 4% of the world’s oral languages (275 according to Krauss, 1992: 5). The Americas (North, South and Central) together account for around 1,000 of the world’s oral languages, 15%. The rest, 81% of the world’s oral languages, are in Africa (30.2%), Asia (32.4%) and the Pacific (18.5%) (all according to Lewis et al., 2014, Table 1). Eleven countries in the world have more than 200 living languages each,1 accounting for more than half of the world’s languages, a total of 4,705 languages (counted from Table 7 in Lewis et al., 2014). Another 10 countries have more than 100 languages each, a total of 1,358. These top 21 countries, just over 10% of the world’s countries, with 6,063 languages, account for some 85.4% of the world’s languages. The top 10 oral languages in the world, in terms of number of mother tongue speakers, are, according to the 17th edition of the Ethnologue, Chinese languages, Spanish, English, Hindi, Arabic languages, Portuguese, Bengali, Russian, Japanese and Javanese. The figures have changed in the last decade (see Skutnabb-Kangas et al., 2003). They represent far fewer than 1% of the world’s (oral) languages, but account for around half of the world’s population. There are 88 languages with more than 100 million speakers. Fewer than 300 languages are spoken by communities of 1 million speakers and above. Some 88% of the world’s languages are spoken by fewer than 1 million speakers, and most of the sign languages are spoken by communities of fewer than 10,000 speakers. Some 1,537 languages (21.6 %) are spoken by communities of fewer than 1,000 speakers. Languages are today being killed at a much faster pace than ever before in human history. As a consequence, linguistic diversity, regardless of how we define it, is disappearing. Fewer new ‘languages’ are being created to replace them, regardless of how ‘languageness’ is defined.
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Biodiversity Although the variety of Earth’s plants and animals has been part of people’s awareness for thousands of years, systematic consideration of this diversity as an organizing principle for nature conservation only arose in the 1970s and 1980s. The term ‘biodiversity,’ which is simply a contraction of ‘biological diversity,’ originated in the mid-1980s and quickly became a focal point for conservationists. A hallmark of the concept of biological diversity (as opposed to earlier formulations such as ‘natural diversity’) is that it is expressed in a hierarchy of nested scales, from genes to species to ecosystems. Actually, these three levels can all be referred to the central concept of species: genetic diversity is that which is within species, species diversity is that among species for a given area and ecosystem diversity is the variety of types of species habitat across a landscape. Just as the number of languages has been used as a proxy for linguistic diversity, the number of species has been used as a proxy for biodiversity. But we have very little solid knowledge of these numbers, and the range of estimates is far broader than that of the number of languages. Figures of between 5 and 15 million separate species are “considered reasonable” (Harmon, 2002: 37). But figures as low as 2 million and as high as 50 million (Maffi, 2001: Note 1) or even 100 million have been mentioned, although recent studies suggest that counts in the multiple tens of millions are too high (Stork et al., 2015). The highest figures are based on the estimate that most of the world’s species (maybe up to 90%, Mishler, 2001: 71) have not yet been ‘discovered,’ that is, named and described by (mostly Western) scientists; only some 1.5 million different species (from plants and animals to fungi, algae, bacteria and viruses) have so far been identified by natural scientists. Many may become extinct before having been studied at all. A relatively simple global measure of ecological diversity that corresponds to a linguistic megadiversity list is that of megadiversity countries, Russell and Cristina Mittermeier’s (1997) concept. These are “countries likely to contain the highest percentage of the global species richness” (Skutnabb-Kangas et al., 2003; see also Conservation International at www.conservation.org/xp/CIWEB/publications/videos/index.xml). Researchers have also developed concepts covering other units where there is a high concentration of species. Ecoregions and biodiversity hotspots are important examples. The World Wide Fund for Nature (WWF) defines an ecoregion as follows: “A relatively large unit of land or water containing a geographically distinct assemblage of species, natural communities, and environmental conditions” (Oviedo and Maffi, 2000: 1). The definition might seem fairly vague, but this is a necessary result of trying to capture the fact that for conservation work (and in general too) species and their living conditions have to be seen not as isolated but as relational, just as mother tongue and ethnicity are not characteristics of individuals or groups, but are indexical of relations, including power relations, between them and other people. WWF has identified nearly 900 ecoregions; 238 of them have been termed “Global 200 Ecoregions” because they are found “to be of the utmost importance for biological diversity” (Oviedo and Maffi, 2000: 1). Most of them are in the tropical regions, just as languages are. Eric Smith’s (2001: 107) account based on the 12th edition of the Ethnologue shows that 55.6% (3,630) of the world’s endemic languages are in the tropical forest regions. Another global measure is biodiversity hotspots: “relatively small regions with especially high concentrations of endemic species” (Skutnabb-Kangas et al., 2003: 55). This concept was created by Norman Myers (see Center for Applied Biodiversity Science,
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www.biodiversityhotspots.org/xp/Hotspots). Using this concept as a benchmark against which to compare language richness, Gorenflo et al. (2014: x) found a “remarkable concordance” in which 70% of the world’s languages are found in the 25% of the planet’s land area that is considered either a “biodiversity hot spot” or a “high-biodiversity wilderness area.”
Critical Issues and Topics: Linguicide and Ecocide Assessments: Linguistic Diversity “In the last five hundred years about half the known languages of the world have disappeared” according to Hans-Jürgen Sasse (1992: 7). Optimistic prognoses of what is happening to the world’s languages suggest that around the year 2100 at least 50% of today’s over 7,000 spoken languages may be extinct or very seriously endangered (with elderly speakers only and no children learning them). This estimate, originating with Michael Krauss (1992), is also used by UNESCO (see, for instance http://portal.unesco.org/culture/en/ ev.php-URL_ID=8270&URL_DO=DO_TOPIC&URL_SECTION=201.html, or the position paper Education in a Multilingual World, UNESCO (2003c)). UNESCO’s Intangible Cultural Heritage Unit’s Ad Hoc Expert Group on Endangered Languages (see UNESCO, 2003a; see also UNESCO, 2003b, 2003c) uses a more pessimistic figure in their report, Language Vitality and Endangerment (UNESCO, 2003a). Almost all languages to disappear would be Indigenous languages, and most of today’s Indigenous languages would disappear, with the exception of a very few that are strong numerically (e.g., Quechua, Aymara, Bodo) and/or have official status (e.g., Māori, some Saami languages). Simons and Lewis (2013) have added considerable depth to our understanding of global language endangerment by assessing, for the first time, the state of vitality for all of the 7,480 languages (both living and extinct) in the latest edition of Ethnologue, using a single 13-point risk assessment scale called the Expanded Graded Intergenerational Disruption Scale (EGIDS). Although results from different regions varied widely, their overall key finding, that 19% of the world’s languages are no longer being learned by children, is less pessimistic than Krauss’s pioneering estimates. Nobody knows what will happen to the world’s Sign languages. There is today no idea of how many Sign languages there are. The 17th version of Ethnologue only lists 135 Sign languages (www.ethnologue.com/17/statistics/family/)—a veritable underestimation. There are Deaf people everywhere in the world, and where hearing people have developed spoken languages, Deaf people have developed Sign languages. These are in every respect full languages (see, e.g., Lane, 1992; Ladd, 2003, 2008). The World Federation of the Deaf estimates that there are some 70 million Deaf people in the world (http://wfdeaf.org/faq) but they do not even guess how many Sign languages there might be. Only in Aotearoa/New Zealand does a Sign language have an official status similar to the other official languages (in this case English and Māori). In over 20 countries Sign languages are mentioned in the constitution or some other equally official regulations.
Assessments: Biodiversity For some time now, conservationists have warned that we are on the verge of the sixth mass extinction in Earth’s history, the first ever to be caused by human activity. One might reasonably think that such an assertion would be vitiated somewhat by the uncertainty regarding
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the total number of species. And it is true that we don’t have any real idea of what percentage of Earth’s species are threatened with extinction, because that number depends on how many species there actually are. But the rationale for an impending massive anthropogenic extinction is not based on percentage of loss. Rather, it relies on comparisons of modern (i.e., post-1500) extinction rates with the background rate of extinction, that is, the number of species we would expect to go extinct over some given unit of time if there were no human impacts on the course of evolution. In a recent review article (Ceballos et al., 2015), a team of scientists canvassed a number of studies comparing modern and background rates of extinction and made their own calculation, which by design was “extremely conservative” so as to not overstate extinction risks. Using a new estimate of the background rate (from Barnosky et al., 2011) that is twice as high as in most previous studies, Ceballos and colleagues calculated that, even under the most conservative of assumptions, the average rate of vertebrate species loss over the last century is at least 8 times higher, and perhaps as much as 100 times higher, than the background rate (the variation depends on what assumptions one makes about how to determine whether a species is truly extinct). The authors’ conclusion is stark: The evidence is incontrovertible that recent extinction rates are unprecedented in human history and highly unusual in Earth’s history. Our analysis emphasizes that our global society has started to destroy species of other organisms at an accelerating rate, initiating a mass extinction episode unparalleled for 65 million years. (Ceballos et al., 2015) According to conservative (i.e., optimistic) assessments, more than 5,000 species disappear every year; pessimistic evaluations claim that the figure may be up to 150,000. Using the most ‘optimistic’ estimate of both the number of species (the high figure of 30 million) and the killing of species (the ‘low’ figure of 5,000/year), the extinction rate is 0.017% per year. With the opposite, the most ‘pessimistic’ estimates (5 million species; 150,000/year disappear), the yearly extinction rate is 3%. (See Harmon, 2002; Maffi, 2001; SkutnabbKangas, 2000; Skutnabb-Kangas et al., 2003 for both correlational and causal relationships between the extinction of species and languages). Much of the knowledge of how to maintain biodiversity is encoded in the small languages of Indigenous and local people(s), and it disappears when the languages disappear. Researchers who use the high extinction rates often also use higher estimates for numbers of species. If the number of species is estimated at 30 million and 150,000 disappear yearly, the rate would be 0.5% per year. Many researchers seem to use yearly extinction rates, which vary between 0.2% (‘pessimistic realistic’) and 0.02% (‘optimistic realistic’— these are our labels). If we disregard the cumulative effect and do a simplified calculation, according to the ‘pessimistic realistic’ prognosis, then 20% of the biological species we have today might be dead in the year 2100, in some 80 years’ time. According to the ‘optimistic realistic’ prognosis the figure would be 2%. Optimistic estimates, then, state that 2% of biological species but 50% of languages may be dead (or moribund) in 80 years’ time. Pessimistic estimates are that 20% of biological species but 90% of languages may be dead (or moribund) in 80 years’ time. Recent work by David Harmon and Jonathan Loh (2010) in developing an Index of Linguistic Diversity (ILD) provides trend data on linguistic diversity. It measures
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“trends in the fraction of the total population belonging to each language” (Loh and Harmon, 2014: 41) and thus shows how speakers have shifted from smaller to larger languages since the index’s starting point in 1970.
Biocultural Diversity—Relationships Between Linguistic Diversity and Biodiversity Biocultural diversity may be defined as the sum total of the world’s differences, no matter what their origin. It is the variety of life in each of its manifestations—biological, cultural, and linguistic—all of which interact with the planet’s abiotic diversity to form a complex adaptive system that supports life on Earth. In an authoritative short history of the rise of biocultural diversity, Maffi (2005) traces echoes of the concept all the way back to Darwin on the biological side and to Sapir, Whorf and most especially Kroeber on the anthropological/linguistic side. Writing in 1968, the biologist Raymond F. Dasmann was perhaps the earliest to explicitly advocate for the dual protection of natural and cultural diversity in a conservation perspective. Although his call was not taken up by the mainstream of conservation, specialists in ethnobiology and ethnobotany embraced the basic idea, culminating in the issuance of the Declaration of Belém in 1988 by the International Society of Ethnobiology, which asserted the existence of an “inextricable link between cultural and biological diversity” (Maffi, 2005). In his pioneering 1992 paper, Krauss explicitly linked the threats to both realms of diversity: “Language endangerment is significantly comparable to—and related to— endangerment of biological species in the natural world” (1992: 4). He also was the first to publish a numerical comparison of the percentage of endangered species with his own “plausible calculation” of the likely “death or doom” of 50%, and as much as 90%, of the world’s languages by 2100 (1992: 7). Krauss’ numerical comparison was very basic; it was amplified considerably a few years later in a pair of companion papers by Harmon. They were the first studies to (1) categorize the world’s languages by the number of mothertongue speakers, quantifying that most languages are spoken by fewer than 10,000 people (Harmon, 1995), and (2) to systematically calculate the spatial congruence of linguistic and biological diversity on a global level (Harmon, 1996). The latter study found that 10 of the top 12 ‘megadiversity’ countries for biodiversity (as defined by IUCN, the International Union for Conservation of Nature) are also among the top 25 most linguistically diverse countries. Harmon’s global cross-mapping of languages and higher vertebrate species (see Maffi, 1998 for the earliest printed version of this map) identified various countries in Central and South America, Central Africa, South and Southeast Asia and the Pacific as among the most bioculturally diverse on the planet—a finding that was confirmed by later work that found three ‘core areas’ of global biocultural diversity: the Amazon Basin, Central Africa and Indomalaysia/Melanesia (Loh and Harmon, 2005). Several biogeographic factors in high-biocultural-diversity countries/regions could account for these correlations, such as the presence of large land masses with a wide variety of terrain and climate, islands having difficult-to-cross internal geophysical barriers or tropical ecosystems with many species) (Harmon, 1996; on this point, cf. Nettle, 1999 where the length of mean growing season was found to correlate with linguistic diversity). The main research advances since these early studies have been along three lines. First, additional studies, several of them more fine-grained, have been done. Some, such as the analysis of cultural and biological diversity in Africa by Moore et al. (2002), and
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Sutherland’s (2003) global comparison of extinction risks for species and languages, largely confirmed the early correlational findings. Others, however, offered important qualifications; for example, Manne (2003) found that correlations between linguistic and biological diversity held at larger geographic scales within Central and South America but were weaker at finer scales. Further, more recent studies relevant to the relationship of biological and linguistic diversity are reviewed in Gavin et al. (2013). Second, two separate indices have been developed that bear on the relationship between biological and linguistic diversity. The earlier of the two was an attempt by Loh and Harmon (2005) to measure global biocultural diversity (at the national level) in an integrated way. This Index of Biocultural Diversity (IBCD) uses three related measures: an unadjusted measure of the richness (i.e., total number) of species and languages in a given country, the same measure adjusted for the country’s land area and the same measure adjusted for the size of the country’s population. It is from this analysis that the three ‘core areas’ of biocultural diversity referred to earlier were derived. Following on this, the same authors developed an Index of Linguistic Diversity (ILD), which is now used as part of the Biodiversity Indicators Partnership. Globally, the ILD measures trends in the fraction of the overall population belonging to each of the world’s languages. The ILD thus captures the recent general trend in which the world’s largest languages are ‘cornering the market’ as speakers shift away from smaller ones. When the global trendline of the ILD is superimposed upon that of the Living Planet Index, a well-respected measure of the rate at which biodiversity is declining, the result is astonishing: they track one another almost perfectly, with both falling about 30% between 1970 and 2009. This strongly suggests that, today, linguistic diversity is disappearing as fast as biodiversity (Loh and Harmon, 2014: 42). Third, better data characterization methods, new techniques in tracing the phylogeny of languages and advanced statistical tests are making the analysis of the relationship between biological and linguistic diversity more methodologically sophisticated. For example, GIS (geographic information systems) technology has been used to create a series of maps that depict overlaps between linguistic and various forms of biological diversity (see, e.g., Stepp et al., 2004). In a groundbreaking study, Gray and colleagues (2009) combined lexical data with new database technologies and Bayesian computational phylogenetic methods to work out in unprecedented detail the evolutionary relationships among 400 Austronesian languages. Finally, research is poised to go beyond single-factor correlative studies by using multivariate statistical methods to analyze more than one possible cause of biological/ linguistic diversity overlap at a time (Gavin et al., 2013). How deep is the threat to biocultural diversity? Loh and Harmon (2014) compared the status of and trends in biological and linguistic diversity around the world. Because species and languages are alike in many ways, they used methods originally developed by biologists and adapted them to measure global linguistic diversity. Their analysis shows that at least 25% of the world’s 7,000 oral languages are threatened with extinction, compared with at least 30% of amphibians, 21% of mammals, 15% of reptiles and 13% of birds.
Parallels and Differences Between the Diversities: Reasons for the Disappearance of Linguistic Diversity: Linguicide and Biodiversity: Ecocide Why are languages disappearing? Obviously it is the languages with fewer speakers that disappear. Most of them are Indigenous/tribal peoples and minorities and minoritized groups/ 18
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people (ITMs). Both push and pull factors are involved. Among the push factors, the most important ones have to do with the poor and powerless economic and political situations of people who speak the numberwise small languages; this makes them extremely vulnerable. The regions where they live are often exploited by logging, mining, overfishing, spread of industrial agriculture, exploitation of their traditional medical and other knowledge, etc. Their ecoregions are ruined, and they can no longer live off their lands and forests. Many are forcibly moved. The jobs that the big companies promise go to others, not the original inhabitants of the region. Many are forced to seek employment in cities (urbanization) or even in other countries. Many of the same factors are also responsible for ecocide—this is one of the parallels. The pull factors are based on several myths. The ITM people are constructed as resourceless, ignorant, backward. Their way of earning their living, their cultures, their knowledges and their languages are stigmatized. The (urban) speakers of bigger, dominant languages are glorified; their lifestyles, cultures, knowledges, ways of earning their living, their habits, modes of dress, everything they do, are presented as preferable, more civilized, worthy of emulating. The dreams of a better life are connected to becoming like them, speaking and living like them. If only I learn their language and move to the city, then my children become educated, then . . . There are sometimes, even often, some benefits connected with the moves, and certainly knowing a dominant language or even several pays off economically. But here another myth interferes. People are made to believe in either/or: you have to choose. If you want to learn the dominant language and culture, it means you have to leave yours behind. Most ITM children (and their parents) obviously want in their own best interests to learn the official language of their country. This is also one of the important Linguistic Human Rights (LHR) principles (access to state languages) and implies for ITM speakers the right to become bilingual in their MT/L1 and the state language. Most children also want to learn English if it is not one of the official languages, given its current ascendancy as the dominant world language. Of course we endorse ITMs’ wishes to learn dominant languages, regional, national and international. But learning new languages, including dominant languages, should not occur in a subtractive bilingual environments, do not value children’s bilingualism/multilingualism, or its maintenance. The rationalizations based on the stigmatization and glorification, the promises of benefits connected with leaving one’s language and culture behind, which at the same time lead to the killing of the dominated languages and cultures, are false. Subtractive formal education, which teaches children (something of) a dominant language, but almost always at the cost of their mother tongue or first language, is genocidal. Skutnabb-Kangas and Dunbar (2010) provide a thorough legal, educational, sociological, sociolinguistic and economic discussion of ITM education as genocide and a crime against humanity. The International Convention for the Prevention and Punishment of the Crime of Genocide (E 793, 1948) has five definitions of genocide in its Article II. Two of them fit subtractive ITM education today: II(e), “forcibly transferring children of the group to another group”; and II(b), “causing serious bodily or mental harm to members of the group”; (emphasis added). Assimilationist submersion education where ITM children are forced to accept teaching through the medium of dominant languages can cause serious mental harm and often leads to the students using the dominant language with their own children later on; that is, over 19
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a generation or two the children are linguistically, and often in other ways too, forcibly transferred to a dominant group. This happens to millions of speakers of endangered languages all over the world (Harrison, 2007; Skutnabb-Kangas, 2000). If there are no schools or classes teaching the children through the medium of the threatened ITM languages, the transfer to the majority language-speaking group is not voluntary. Meaningful alternatives do not exist, and parents do not have enough reliable information about the long-term consequences of the various choices they are forced by circumstance to make. Because of this, disappearance of languages cannot be labeled ‘language death,’ or ‘language suicide,’ even if it might at first seem that the speakers are themselves ‘voluntarily’ abandoning their languages. An allied but equally false educational philosophy claims that minority children learn the dominant language best if they have most of their education through the medium of the dominant language. Many studies have demonstrated, however, exactly the opposite. If children are taught an additional language in an additive bilingual context, which recognizes the value of bilingualism and its ongoing maintenance, and uses the students’ bi-/multilingual linguistic repertoire as a basis for learning, they are more likely to achieve academically (Baker, 2011; García, 2009; May and Dam, 2014). Moreover, the longer the mother tongue/ first language remains the main medium of education, the better ITM children learn the dominant language and other subjects, while also, of course, maintaining and developing further the languages they already know (see, e.g., Thomas and Collier, 2002; McCarty, 2005; Skutnabb-Kangas et al., 2009; Tollefson and Tsui, 2003). Thus, linguistic genocide, especially in education, is the most important direct cause for the killing of the world’s linguistic diversity. Behind it we find many of the same global political, economic and technomilitary causes that are also responsible for the killing of biodiversity. We can summarize the three main reasons for the disappearance of biodiversity as follows: • • •
The poor and powerless economic and political situation of people living in the world’s most diverse ecoregions Habitat destruction through logging, spread of agriculture, use of pesticides2 and fertilizers, deforestation, desertification, overfishing, etc. Knowledge about how to maintain biodiversity and use nature sustainably disappears with disappearing languages; much of this knowledge is encoded in the small languages of ITMs and other local peoples (see the references to Harmon, Maffi and SkutnabbKangas, with colleagues, for the causal relationship; see also Posey, 1999; Maffi & Woodley 2010).
The striking correlations between the geographic distribution of species and languages mentioned earlier are a spatial representation of the parallels between biological and linguistic diversity. There are many other ways in which they are comparable, however. Both are fundamentally evolutionary, with all living species and languages the result of descent with modification from, respectively, a common genetic or linguistic ancestor. The histories of species and languages are traced by similar taxonomic methods and result in similar phylogenetic trees that reflect an evolutionary branching process. Both kinds of diversity can be classified hierarchically, with the genes/species/ecosystem ladder of biodiversity matched by structural/language/lineage levels of linguistic diversity. The quality of being restricted to or deeply associated with a particular place or region is of special interest in both, so that
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endemicspecies and Indigenous languages are considered to be especially important. The main driver of both speciation and language genesis is isolation (reproductive for species, communicative for languages), but on each side there are other ways new discrete forms can arise (see Harmon, 2002, for a discussion). The same biogeographic factors that give rise to species diversification are likely at least partly behind language diversification. Finally, as noted earlier, the extinction of biological and linguistic diversity shares the same root cause: neoliberal globalization. There are important differences between the two kinds of diversity, however. First and foremost is that linguistic diversity is volitional: the existence of languages depends on the behavioral choices of individual people, whereas a member of a nonhuman species cannot choose to abandon (or add to) its species’ identity. In other words, languages, but not species, are additive: one can be a speaker (even a native speaker) of more than one language, but one cannot be a member of more than one species. Relatedly, whereas the classic (though simplistic) way to decide whether two individual organisms are members of different species is to determine whether they can potentially interbreed, there is no such interchange barrier imposed in the linguistic realm: any human being is, in theory, capable of learning any language. In addition, human languages are shaped by a host of sociocultural factors that are far more intricate, and at the same time more wide ranging, than any that obtain in even the most complex societies of nonhuman social species.
Future Directions The future of both linguistic diversity and biodiversity will be determined by how the world’s people behave over the next few decades. If one or more of the major factors affecting the continued viability of the biosphere—population growth, overconsumption of resources, waste production, habitat destruction, and climate change—continue unabated, then prospects for avoiding the first-ever human-caused mass extinction of species are dim indeed. Of these factors, climate change is overarching, and so one might summarize the threats by saying that the future of biodiversity depends on how severe the impacts of climate change turn out to be. If formal education and mass media continue to kill languages and falsely legitimate this, instead of implementing linguistic human rights, also in education, then we minimize the chances of human success and adaptability that linguistic and cultural diversity maximize (see Phillipson and Skutnabb-Kangas, this volume). Why is biocultural diversity disappearing through linguicide and ecocide? The ultimate reason is neoliberal globalization. We now live in a world where the dominant economic and political forces are aligned to encourage untenable economic growth, which seems to require uniformity, homogeneity and the seamless global interchange of products and information. Government policies (supported by the private sector) generally favor developing resources for human use, which simplifies the landscape as it destroys wild animal and plant habitat. Similar policies promote linguistic unification either directly, through sanctions on Indigenous and minority language use, or indirectly, such as by concentrating economic opportunities in cities, thereby making it more difficult for the rural areas in which most languages evolved to remain viable places for the next generation of speakers. It is a question of both structural and ideological means of intentionally destroying human and natural resources, of committing equally heinous crimes against both humanity and nature, despite us in both cases having more than enough knowledge to counteract them.
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Further Reading Evans, N. (2009), Dying Words: Endangered Languages and What They Have to Tell Us. Oxford, New York: Wiley-Blackwell. Grenoble, L. A. and Whaley, L. J. (eds.) (1998), Endangered Languages: Current Issues and Future Prospects. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Harrison, K. D. (2007), When Languages Die: The Extinction of the World’s Languages and the Erosion of Human Knowledge. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Notes 1 These are Australia (244 languages), Brazil (288), Cameroon (281), China (301), Democratic Republic of the Congo (215), India (454), Indonesia (707), Mexico (288), Nigeria (529), Papua New Guinea (838) and the United States (420). Knowing some of these countries certainly testifies to the difficulty and unreliability of counting languages. 2 The most grim examples come from intentional destruction through chemical warfare, for example, in Vietnam from 1966: “The use of defoliants, herbicides, toxic gases transformed parts of the countryside into a lunar landscape. Whole areas became uncultivable and remain so to this day” (Ali, 2003: 293).
References Ali, T. (2003), The Clash of Fundamentalisms: Crusades, Jihads and Modernity. London, New York: Verso. Baker, C. (2011), Foundations of Bilingual Education and Bilingualism. 5th edition. Bristol, UK: Multilingual Matters. Barnosky, A. D., Matzke, N., Tomiya, S., Wogan, G. O., Swartz, B., Quental, T. B., Marshall, C., McGuire, J. L., Lindsey, E. L., Maguire, K. C., Mersey, B. and Ferrer, E. A. (2011), ‘Has the Earth’s sixth mass extinction already arrived?’, Nature, 471: 51–57. Ceballos, G., Ehrlich, P. R., Barnosky, A. D., García, A., Pringle, R. M. and Palmer, R. M. (2015, June 19), ‘Accelerated modern human–induced species losses: Entering the sixth mass extinction’, Science Advances. doi:1:e1400253 Dasmann, R. F. (1968), A Different Kind of Country. New York: Macmillan. Fill, A. and Mühlhäusler, P. (eds.) (2001), The Ecolinguistics Reader: Language, Ecology and Environment. London, New York: Continuum. García, O. (2009), Bilingual Education in the 21st Century: A Global Perspective. Malden, MA: Blackwell. Gavin, M. C., Botero, C. A., Bowern, C., Colwell, R. K., Dunn, M., Dunn, R. R., Gray, R. D., Kirby, K. R., McCarter, J., Powell, A., Rangel, T. F., Stepp, J. R., Trautwein, M., Verdolin, J. L. and Yanega, G. (2013), ‘Toward a mechanistic understanding of linguistic diversity’, BioScience, 63: 524–535. Gorenflo, L. J., Romaine, S., Musinsky, S., Denil, M. and Mittermeier, R. A. (2014). Linguistic Diversity in High Biodiversity Regions. Arlington, VA: Conservation International. Gray R. D., Drummond, A. J. and Greenhill, S. J. (2009), ‘Language phylogenies reveal expansion pulses and pauses in Pacific settlement’, Science, 323: 479–483. Harmon, D. (1995), ‘The status of the world’s languages as reported in Ethnologue’, Southwest Journal of Linguistics, 14: 1–33. Harmon, D. (1996), ‘Losing species, losing languages: Connections between biological and linguistic diversity’, Southwest Journal of Linguistics, 15: 89–108. Harmon, D. (2002), In Light of Our Differences: How Diversity in Nature and Culture Makes Us Human. Washington, DC: Smithsonian Institution Press. Harmon, D. and Loh, J. (2010), ‘The Index of Linguistic Diversity: A new quantitative measure of trends in the status of the world’s languages‘, Language Documentation and Conservation, 4: 97–151. 22
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Harrison, K. D. (2007), When Languages Die: The Extinction of the World’s Languages and the Erosion of Human Knowledge. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Krauss, M. (1992), ‘The world’s languages in crisis’, Language, 68(1): 4–10. Ladd, P. (2003), Understanding Deaf Culture: In Search of Deafhood. Clevedon, UK: Multilingual Matters. Ladd, P. (2008), ‘Colonialism and Resistance: A Brief History of Deafhood’, in H-D. L. Bauman (ed.), Open Your Eyes: Deaf Studies Talking. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, pp. 42–59. Ladefoged, P. (1992), ‘Another view of endangered languages’, Language, 68(4): 809–811. Lane, H. (1992), The Mask of Benevolence: Disabling the Deaf Community. New York: Alfred Knopf. Lane, H. (2008), ‘Do Deaf People Have a Disability?’, in H-Dirksen L. Bauman (ed.), Open Your Eyes: Deaf Studies Talking. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, pp. 277–292. Lewis, M. P., Simons, G. F. and Fennig, C. A. (eds.) (2014), Ethnologue: Languages of the World. 17th edition. Dallas, TX: SIL International. Online version: www.ethnologue.com/17/ Loh, J. and Harmon, D. (2005), ‘A global index of biocultural diversity’, Ecological Indicators, 5: 231–241. Loh, J. and Harmon, D. (2014), Biocultural Diversity: Threatened Species, Endangered Languages. Zeist, The Netherlands: WWF Netherlands. Macaulay, R. (1997), ‘Dialect’, in J.-O. Östman and J. Verschueren (eds.), Handbook of Pragmatics. Amsterdam: John Benjamins. McCarty, T. (ed.) (2005), Language, Literacy, and Power in Schooling. Mahwah, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum. Maffi, L. (1998), ‘Language, a Resource for Nature,’ Nature and Resources, 34(4): 12–21. Maffi, L. (2001) ‘Introduction’, in L. Maffi (ed.), On Biocultural Diversity: Linking Language, Knowledge and the Environment. Washington, DC: Smithsonian Institution Press, pp. 1–50. Maffi, L. (2005), ‘Linguistic, cultural, and biological diversity’, Annual Review of Anthropology, 29: 599–617. Maffi, L. and Woodley, E. (2010), Biocultural Diversity Conservation: A Global Sourcebook. London, Washington, DC: Earthscan. Makoni, S. and Pennycook, A. (2007), ‘Disinventing and Reconstituting Languages’, in S. Makoni and A. Pennycook (eds.), Disinventing and Reconstituting Languages. Clevedon, UK: Multilingual Matters, pp. 1–41. Manne, L. L. (2003), ‘Nothing has yet lasted forever: Current and threatened levels of biological and cultural diversity’, Evolutionary Ecology Research, 5: 517–527. May, S. and Dam, L. I. (2014), Bilingual Education and Bilingualism. Oxford Bibliographies. New York: Oxford University Press, www.oxfordbibliographies.com/view/document/obo-9780199756810/obo9780199756810-0109.xml Mishler, B. D. (2001), Biodiversity and the loss of lineages. In L. Maffi (ed.). On Biocultural Diversity. Linking Language, Knowledge and the Environment. Washington, D C: The Smithsonian Institution Press, pp. 71–81. Mittermeier, R. and Goettsch Mittermeier, C. (1997), Megadiversity: Earth’s Biologically Wealthieast Nations. Mexico City: CEMEX. Moore, J. L., Manne, L., Brook, T., Burgess, N. D., Davies, R., Rahbek, C., Williams, P. and Balmford, A. (2002), ‘The distribution of cultural and biological diversity in Africa’, Proceedings of the Royal Society, B 269: 1645–1653. Mufwene, S. S. (2001), The Ecology of Language Evolution. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Mühlhäusler, P. (1996), Linguistic Ecology: Language Change and Linguistic Imperialism in the Pacific Region. London: Routledge. Mühlhäusler, P. (2003), Language of Environment—Environment of Language: A Course in Ecolinguistics. London: Battlebridge. Nettle, D. (1999), Linguistic Diversity. Oxford: Oxford University Press. 23
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Oviedo, G. and Maffi, L. (2000), Indigenous and Traditional Peoples of the World and Ecoregion Conservation: An Integrated Approach to Conserving the World’s Biological and Cultural Diversity. Gland, Switzerland: WWF International & Terralingua. Posey, D. (ed.) (1999), Cultural and Spiritual Values of Biodiversity: A Complementary Contribution to the Global Biodiversity Assessment. London: Intermediate Technology Publications, for and on behalf of the United Nations Environmental Programme. Robinson, C. D. W. (1993), ‘Where minorities are in the majority: Language dynamics amidst high linguistic diversity’, in K. de Bot (ed.), Case Studies in Minority Languages: AILA Review, 10, pp. 52–70. Sasse, H.-J. (1992), ‘Theory of Language Death’, in M. Brenzinger (ed.), Language Death: Factual and Theoretical Explorations with Special Reference to East Africa. Berlin: Mouton de Gruyter, pp. 7–30. Simons, G. F. and Lewis, M. P. (2013), ‘The World’s Languages in Crisis: A 20-Year Update’, in E. Mihas, B. Perley, G. Rei-Doval and K. Wheatley (eds.), Responses to Language Endangerment: In Honor of Mickey Noonan—New Directions in Language Documentation and Language Revitalization. Amsterdam, Philadelphia: John Benjamins, pp. 3–20. Skutnabb-Kangas, T. (2000), Linguistic Genocide in Education—or Worldwide Diversity and Human Rights? Mahwah, NJ, London, UK: Lawrence Erlbaum. (South Asian updated edition in 2008, Delhi: Orient Longman). Skutnabb-Kangas, T. (2007). ‘Language Rights’, in J.-O. Östman and J.Verschueren (eds.), Handbook of Pragmatics. Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Skutnabb-Kangas T. and Dunbar, R. (2010), Indigenous Children’s Education as Linguistic Genocide and a Crime Against Humanity? A Global View. Gáldu Čála. Journal of Indigenous Peoples’ Rights No. 1. Guovdageaidnu/Kautokeino: Galdu, Resource Centre for the Rights of Indigenous Peoples. www.galdu.org Skutnabb-Kangas, T., Maffi, L. and Harmon, D. (2003), Sharing a World of Difference: The Earth’s Linguistic, Cultural, and Biological Diversity. Paris: UNESCO Publishing. Skutnabb-Kangas, T., Phillipson, R., Mohanty A. and Panda, M. (eds.) (2009), Social Justice Through Multilingual Education. Bristol: Multilingual Matters. Smith, E. A. (2001). ‘On the Coevolution of Cultural, Linguistic, and Biological diversity’, in L. Maffi (ed.), On Biocultural Diversity: Linking Language, Knowledge and the Environment. Washington, DC: Smithsonian Institute Press, pp. 95–117. Stepp J. R., Cervone, S., Castaneda, H., Lasseter, A., Stocks, G. and Gichon, Y. (2004), ‘Development of a GIS for global biocultural diversity’, Policy Matters, 13: 267–270. Stibbe, A. (2015), Ecolinguistics: Language, Ecology and the Stories We Live By. New York: Routledge. Stork, N. E., McBroom, J., Gely, C. and Hamilton, A. J. (2015), ‘New approaches narrow global species estimates for beetles, insects, and terrestrial arthropods’, Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, 112(24): 7517–7523. Sutherland, W. J. (2003), ‘Parallel extinction risk and global distribution of languages and species’, Nature, 423: 276–279. Thomas, W. and Collier, V. (2002), A National Study of School Effectiveness for Language Minority Students’ Long-Term Academic Achievement. Santa Cruz, CA: Center for Research on Education, Diversity and Excellence (CREDE). Tollefson, J. W. and Tsui, A. B. M. (eds.) (2003), Medium of Instruction Policies: Which Agenda? Whose Agenda? Mahwah, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum. Trim, J. L. M. (1959), ‘Historical, descriptive and dynamic linguistics’, Language and Speech, 2(1): 9–25. UNESCO (2003a). Language Vitality and Endangerment. UNESCO Intangible Cultural Heritage Unit’s Ad Hoc Expert Group on Endangered Languages. Approved 31 March 2003 by the Participants of the at International Expert Meeting on UNESCO Programme Safeguarding of Endangered
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Languages, UNESCO, Paris-Fontenoy,10–12 March 2003. http://www.unesco.org/new/fileadmin/ MULTIMEDIA/HQ/CLT/pdf/Language_vitality_and_endangerment_EN.pdf. UNESCO (2003b). Recommendations for Action Plan. International Expert Meeting on UNESCO Programme Safeguarding of Endangered Languages, UNESCO, Paris-Fontenoy,10–12 March 2003. http://www.unesco.org/endangeredlanguages. UNESCO (2003c). Education in a Multilingual World. UNESCO Education Position Paper. Paris: UNESCO. http://unesdoc.unesco.org/images/0012/001297/129728e.pdf. Wendel, J. N. (2005). ‘Notes on the ecology of language,’ Bunkyo Gakuin University Academic Journal, 5: 51–76.
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2 The Ecology of Language Contact Minority and Majority Languages Albert Bastardas-Boada
Introduction/Definitions Unsurprisingly in the evolution of scientific thought, a number of academics found it appropriate in the last third of the 20th century to begin applying the idea of ‘ecology’ to their study of the phenomena of language contact. Two factors, which mutually fed into one another, influenced the adoption of an ecological perspective to understand the evolutionary processes at work in situations in which two or more language varieties come into close relation. One of these factors was an increasingly acute awareness of the need for more general, systemic and comprehensive approaches to the facts that science was seeking to understand, and the other lay in the success that had already been achieved by applying ecological approaches in the field of biology. This shift toward an ‘ecologization’ of thought increased scientists’ attention to the interrelations and interdependencies of elements of reality and to the dynamic evolution of sociocultural situations. Situations of language contact possess these characteristics: each one involves the actions of different units and agents, which could result in highly significant changes in major human groups. In addition, the increased study of natural ecosystems sharply raised human awareness of the loss of specific biological species as a result of the destruction of their habitats, leading to the so-called crisis of biodiversity. It was, therefore, a logical and straightforward step for the approaches and concepts of biological ecology to be transferred by analogy to linguistic ecology, linking the crisis of biodiversity to the crisis of language diversity. Thus, the parallel rise in the awareness of a significant abandonment of human language varieties spurred on the conceptual transfers being made, at times not without hazard, from one field to the other. Turning specifically to relations between what have come to be called ‘minority’ and ‘majority’ languages, we can find many cases in which there is an intergenerational process leading toward abandonment of the ‘minority’ code and adoption of the majority language by the population that had previously used the former. Analogies readily spring to mind, such as a big fish swallowing up a smaller fish, or a species going extinct because its natural environment is being destroyed. Although these analogies can be thought provoking, however, we must never forget that languages are neither organisms nor biological species. Rather, they are contextually situated behaviors arising out of human culture. This clearly 26
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requires us to create a theory of the evolution of language contact that can take account of the singular nature of human behavior, perhaps keeping away from conceptualizations too closely bound up with biological facts. At the level of languages, the use of terms like ‘minority’ and ‘majority’ can mislead us into thinking that the cause of such a difference lies in some feature that can be attributed to a code itself, as though it were something intrinsic to the species, so to speak. Yet nothing could be further from the truth. All human languages serve their populations, which create and renew them in order to name the elements and ideas necessary to each group’s survival and development. In short, they are complete and fully functional instruments of the group’s daily life. Their transformation into ‘minority’ or ‘majority’ languages belongs not to their structural properties as codes, but typically to power relations between the individuals and/ or groups who use them. If a human group comes into frequent close contact with another group, and the former is much larger in number of speakers and in political and/or economic power than the latter, their respective languages can then turn into ‘majority’ and ‘minority’ languages. This is why there is a common preference to use the adjective ‘minoritized’ rather than ‘minority’ to indicate that this fact is the product of a relational process and is not a negative feature belonging internally to the code in question. As noted earlier, power differences between human groups coming into contact can be put down to a variety of factors. The clearest factor is demographic, where there is a major difference in the number of people speaking the two languages involved. However, this is not the only factor that can affect how a situation evolves. Sometimes other variables, such as the economic power of one group, can counteract or balance out the pressure exerted by a demographic asymmetry favorable to the other group. Political power is another of the major factors that can play a role, particularly in contemporary societies. In democracies, the demographic majority will logically tend also to dominate public institutions, enabling it, if it so chooses, to exercise significant influence over the minoritization process of the language of a demographically smaller group or groups. However, in undemocratic situations, the group holding political power, even though it may be demographically smaller in number, can influence the other group from the institutional level and cause this group’s code to become minoritized, at least at the level of formal public communications. The ecological perspective, as may be seen, is necessary to view such a situation in its entirety, and comprehend the interrelation of the different factors and the sociocognitive dynamics of the society leading the situation to evolve in one direction or another.
Historical Perspectives Although certainly there are aspects that we do not yet clearly understand and situations can present variations and follow different historical courses, the ecology of language contact field has developed significantly over the past four decades and we now understand its various phenomena much more clearly. This is all due to the large number of researchers who have opted to pursue a holistic ecological approach in sociolinguistics, though sometimes without yet using the term. Although T. S. Eliot spoke of an “ecology of cultures” as early as 1948, this approach appears to have first been taken up in linguistics in 1964 in a chapter by Carl and Florence Voegelin and then again in 1967 by the Voegelins and Schutz writing about Native American languages. The term they employed is ‘linguistic ecology.’ However, the text most frequently cited as foundational is one by the Norwegian-American linguist Einar Haugen, who defined linguistic ecology, in 1971, as the study of the interactions between a language and its environment. Haugen also sketched out a program of research, 27
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always situating the ecology of languages within the framework of a general sociology. Growing success in the application of ecological thinking to biological phenomena was a major contributor to increasing interest among other disciplines in the adoption of systemic approaches that included environments or contexts in their investigations. One example was Steps to an Ecology of Mind by Gregory Bateson (1972), which appeared just one year after Haugen’s paper, or La vie de la vie by Edgar Morin (1980). This was the emerging intellectual climate that gave rise to new contributions from Lluís-Vicent Aracil (1965, 1979), William F. Mackey (1974, 1979, 1980) and Norman Denison (1982), who implicitly or explicitly also promoted a sociolinguistics from an ‘ecological’ approach able to integrate the various interrelated aspects of language contact and of developments caused by the conditions in which it occurred. Indeed, these scholars were delving more deeply into the interdisciplinary and contextual line that Uriel Weinreich had first set out in 1953: “It is in a broad psychological and sociocultural setting that language contact can best be understood” (1968: 4). One of the greatest challenges to develop this ecological perspective on language contact was—and still is—how to conceive of its representation and imagine its conceptualization. Given that language is not a biological species, the advancements made in conventional ecology were not directly applicable to sociolinguistics. How should we think about the contexts of languages and language varieties, their elements and the interrelations that exist between them? To what extent can analogical transfers be useful to understand phenomena of contact between codes? What models should be built? One of the first decisions was to establish what constituted the environment or context of languages. From the very outset, Haugen’s view was clear: The true environment of a language is the society that uses it as one of its codes. Language exists only in the minds of its users, and it only functions in relating these users to one another and to nature, i.e. their social and natural environment. Part of its ecology is therefore psychological: its interaction with other languages in the minds of bi- and multilingual speakers. Another part of its ecology is sociological: its interaction with the society in which it functions as a medium of communication. The ecology of a language is determined primarily by the people who learn it, use it, and transmit it to others. (2001: 57) The ecology of languages, therefore, must clearly be interdisciplinary and focused on the communicative actions of humans, who are ultimately the ones responsible for the persistence or disuse of verbal codes. The problem, however, is that human beings are units that both form and live in complex sociopolitical ecosystems, which in turn have an influence on their language behaviors and can determine specific evolutions depending on the intervening factors in each case. In the development of linguistic ecology, roughly three major areas or approaches can be distinguished, though not sharply separated from one another, depending on whether they are more directly inspired by theoretical ecology’s ‘way of thinking’ or are closer to the metaphors coming out of bio-ecology. Within the second sub-group, a further distinction can be made between studies driven more by seeking a scientific understanding of the phenomena and studies that are concerned more with maintaining language diversity and therefore hew more closely to activism and political action undertaken to transform the evolution of sociolinguistic situations. In the end, however, the three lines lead to contributions 28
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that are not so very different, but rather cast light upon one another, and a variety of authors do move back and forth between the approaches. Drawing on the first of these perspectives, which is more inspired by systems thinking and complexity and yet obviously does not ignore advances in bio-ecology itself, authors like Mackey (1979) clearly argue that biological facts differ from facts at the sociocultural level: “The study of a society (. . .) is not analogous to the study of the physical world (. . .) [n]or is analogous to the study of life” (p. 455). This is probably what led authors like Haarman (1986) and Bastardas-Boada (1996) to conceive of an ecology of language contact grounded in a psycho-sociologico-political approach that is multidimensional and dynamic and can give an account of the intertwinings and interdependencies of levels and factors that influence and/or co-determine the language forms and varieties involved. This interdisciplinary collaboration is also followed by Mühlhäusler (1996), who is equally supportive of a general, holistic approach as the only way of being able to grasp the phenomena arising in the evolution of situations of language contact. Calvet (1999) sets out a useful “gravitational” image for the world’s ecosystemic organization of languages, which are also clustered into constellations (De Swaan, 2001). Terborg (2006) and Terborg and GarcíaLanda (2006, 2013) have also directly postulated a sociocultural ecology of languages, which draws on the ‘pressures’ that speakers feel in their environment to use one language variety or another. This approach, like the constitution of a general (bio)ecology, steers clear of fragmentation and specialization by taking the opposite road, integrating elements from vastly different sociocultural disciplines that are nevertheless useful and necessary to understand human sociolinguistic ecosystems and their whole–part interrelations. The major development of ecological thought applied to biological facts and, specifically, to contact among species and between species and their contexts has also inspired, analogously, as I have already noted, its application to the ecology of languages. If we think of languages as cultural ‘species’ that live in ecosystems that have a crucial influence on how they evolve, we can find an interesting line of study. While remaining cognizant of the differing properties of biological and linguistic entities, this strategy has been used by a number of authors with heuristic aims and to help push forward with the theorization of complex sociolinguistic phenomena (Mufwene and Vigouroux, 2012). For instance, Mufwene (2001), drawing inspiration from population genetics, uses the analogy of a parasitic, Lamarckian species to indicate that languages depend on their speakers, just as a parasite depends on its carrier, and he stresses the importance of the environment in relation to the changes that the species may undergo. From this perspective, he applies a competitionand-selection model of language forms to understand the evolution of contacts between different languages (Mufwene, 2008). In this way, the context is what gives competitive advantage to some languages and takes it away from others. The context causes a “natural selection” of languages, similar to biological evolution. Similarly, although not drawing inspiration from the parasite analogy but rather from an analogy of species in general, Bastardas-Boada (2002) suggests a research program in linguistic ecology to address the formation of language diversity, or speciation, and to examine language continuity, change and extinction, as well as language preservation or recovery. Like Pennycook (2004) and Edwards (2008), however, the author cautions against paying excessive heed to analogies between biological and linguistic species and, as a consequence, he underscores the need not to apply the metaphor uncritically. The temporal—and, frequently, spatial—coincidence between the crises of biodiversity and of language diversity (Maffi, 2001) has further encouraged the metaphoric borrowing of approaches and concepts from biology in linguistics, particularly in the case of endangered 29
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language varieties. Concern to preserve the diversity of language systems created by humans has given rise to a need for an in-depth understanding of the mechanisms that lead to language shift and, ultimately, to the total abandonment of minoritized languages (Junyent, 1989). An awareness of the severity of the crisis has led to the development of what might be called a ‘linguistic environmentalism’ that clearly encourages activism and the constitution of a ‘political’ ecolinguistics able to propose changes in the socioeconomic and cultural organization of human societies. From this perspective, the equality of the rights of languages is advocated, as well as the need to fight for their preservation and give support for a relation of nonsubordination and nonhierarchy among different human language groups (Junyent, 1998; Skutnabb-Kangas and Phillipson, 2008).
Critical Issues and Topics Bilingualization and Language Shift in Minoritized Populations The most important contributions of linguistic ecology to our understanding of phenomena of contact between ‘majority’ and ‘minority/minoritized’ language groups are the result of the broad, dynamic perspective that the ecosystemic view can give. Beyond a simple attention to the results that contact produces in the structures of codes in contact, linguistic ecology also enables us to apprehend the major causes driving how each case evolves. As a consequence, it also helps us move toward sociopolitical measures that can be proposed to reverse negative dynamics or support the sustainable maintenance of the languages involved. The most typical and most frequent situations of minoritization occur in states that have a linguistically diverse population and yet recognize only one official language, often striving to impose language homogenization among the different populations of the state. The fact that populations that have adapted linguistically to their contexts are exposed to new political and economic situations through what have come to be called modernization processes, has also wrought important ecosystemic changes that frequently have an impact at the level of language. Adaptively, such populations develop language competences in the majority language or languages depending on their contexts and age of exposure, and they move toward widespread bilingualism or plurilingualism. Through the official educational apparatus, mainly, with its vast social and symbolic impact, the official language enjoys dissemination at the optimal age of language acquisition in the case of children. If this process is also accompanied by a discourse that denigrates and stigmatizes the other languages or varieties, presenting them as systems without any fixed and written standard but purely as oral, dialectal and secondary, and parents are called on to speak the language of the schools with their children in order to help them achieve academic success, then the conditions leading to disuse of the varieties of the autochthonous language might gain greater and greater force. In this respect, the historical example of Spain—following the experience of France—is paradigmatic of situations of minoritization. Spain is one of the most linguistically complex states in the European Union. Four languages in particular stand out: Basque, Galician, Catalan and Castilian—the last of which is frequently referred to as ‘Spanish’—and other demographically less important ones, such as Asturian, Aranese and Aragonese. The greater part of speakers of the three non-Castilian main languages occupy compact, self-contained territories; they are usually not scattered around Spain. The populations of the areas of these three languages represent over a third of Spain’s total population. Before the advent of democracy in Spain in 1978, all of the non-Castilian languages went through long periods in 30
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which their public use was prohibited and/or they faced extremely hostile policies imposed by different Spanish governments. As a result, the native populations of these languages were subjected to processes of asymmetric bilingualization in Castilian, because the latter generally was the only code permitted in official public activities, in education and in the media. Castilian thus became indispensable, and the other minoritized languages lost ground; all of them felt the impact of the process of language shift, and some became almost unnecessary within their own territories. Nonetheless, the abandonment of a group’s own language system is not a quick or an easy process. The social elements that encourage behaviors to persist in the group, in interactions and in the individual will have an influence. Because the development of productive language competences becomes harder as an individual gets older, many adults in a situation of language contact may not be able to master fluency in the new code. As a result, they may avoid using it when not strictly necessary. That means that if they remain at this level of competence, they will also not use the official variety to speak with their children and that their children will not experience this variety as their first language of socialization. However, this does not necessarily lead to the second generation not becoming fully competent in the dominant language used as an institutional vehicle. Given the educational language policy present in most of the cases, the single, customary language of instruction in the education system will be the official one. In a context of ongoing exposure to the official code, which will also become the common language of all remaining public communication, particularly of the media and written communications of the official or para-official bodies of the government, members of the second generation can become asymmetrically bilingual in their codes. On the one hand, they gain only an informal oral competence in the vernacular variety of their first language. On the other hand, they acquire formal written and oral competence in the second language, the official one, in its standard version, with features that are more or less local depending on the case. This is the ‘bilingualism’ characteristic of situations of political subordination. The group’s own language is limited to the oral vernacular continuum, whereas the language declared official by those in political power becomes the group’s formal standardized written and spoken modality. This political framework is responsible for the typical hierarchical distribution of functions and for the high interference experienced by minoritized languages that tend to show all the processes of language shift before they advance effectively toward abandonment of their own vernaculars. In an ecosystem in which the use of the autochthonous language is not allowed in official and institutionalized communications in general, this code will necessarily be absent in such communications and it will necessarily not develop or adapt any suitable variety of its own to fulfill these types of functions. In the absence of such a variety or of any bodies that could take the relevant language decisions, it is hardly surprising that the trend will be to adopt forms coming from the only standard language model available to refer to the multitude of things in social life. Over time, even the denominations and constructions that already exist in the minoritized code can be replaced by others coming from the official language. In this way, the autochthonous vernacular continuum tends to present an image of mixing and blending with the dominant language. Perversely, the authorities can take advantage of this fact to corroborate the inferiority of the language system of the subordinate community and/or present it as a ‘simple dialect’ or a spurious and badly spoken ‘patois’ of the language declared to be official. According to this asymmetric model, the bilingualized generations of subordinate communities will present code switching, depending on the situation and the function. The most 31
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commonly seen distribution is spoken/written, given that the written level cannot be occupied by any variety of the autochthonous language and will only be performed by the alien official language, which is provided exclusively for these functions. When speaking, individuals will switch between one system and the other fundamentally according to how they categorize a function. In keeping with the policy instructions in force, formal speaking activity in official or assimilated areas will have to be in the official language. The community will tend also to listen to the speeches and contributions of its leaders and to the classes given by its teachers and professors solely in the official language. In general, all media will function in the official language, too. This does not mean that there will not be cases such as the situations of diglossia depicted by Ferguson (1959) in which the local authorities or teachers will speak autochthonous vernaculars when the microphone is switched off or outside the meeting room or classroom. Now, however, these communications will be experienced as individualized and therefore as less formal in nature. In this distribution of functions, individualized communications are still reserved for autochthonous vernaculars by force of group custom and the face-to-face norms established among speakers. However, this can break down if individuals see themselves forced to speak together in the official majority language because of any other constraints imposed, for example, by the norms of the domain in which their interactions take place. The strength of the personal or intra-group language norm can grow weak. If, as, for example, in the French case and in particular periods of the Spanish case, even the deliberations of municipal councils and other more or less public local institutions have had to make use of the official language, it is not surprising that these situations might evolve toward code switching that is not only institutional but also personal, at least between individuals who find themselves in these circumstances. In the light of this asymmetry of competences and the symbolic superiority of the official language, any interactions with individuals in these roles, which may include doctors, secretaries and other administrative staff in the city hall, pharmacists, lawyers, other professionals and priests, tend to occur in the dominant language. The influence of these people, who are typically of high status in the eyes of socioeconomic subordinate communities, extends so far as to affect the language behavior of minority individuals among one another when in their presence. In many cases, given the status of their interlocutors, they may even gain some satisfaction from being able to do so. The key moment in the disappearance of languages comes with the interruption of their native acquisition and use in the next generation. As in situations of contact due to migration, parents who become bilingual in the dominant language will decide to transmit it to their children and not the group’s own language. This decision stems from their view that it will be more advantageous for economic survival or for upward mobility or social acceptance. Characteristically, the process sustains a situation in which the generation of parents can still speak to one another in the minoritized variety, but use the second code—the official, prestigious one—to address their children. The children perfectly internalize the new language, which is typically also the language of instruction in the schools, and they establish new social norms of language use that spread as generational replacement occurs. It is even possible that the change may spread asymmetrically from the top to the bottom of the social ladder at the outset, if the extent of intergenerational language shift does not reach most of the population. As the language shift behavior spreads, the new code can become wide ranging and anyone still with the minoritized code as a native first language will grow ashamed and embarrassed at using it. They will avoid speaking it, at least in public, particularly with
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friends and classmates. By this point, an entirely new generation will have largely adopted the new language behavior through their parents, and the majority code will become native.
Language Preservation, Recovering and Development In addition to human communities who continue inexorably down the path toward total abandonment of their own language codes and the adoption of outside majority languages even for private uses, there have been and still are communities that have put up varying degrees of opposition to this apparently fatal evolution, trying to modify the ecosystem leading toward their disappearance as a linguistically distinct society. Whether as part of an overall process asserting demands for self-determination or self-government or as a movement basically focused on the achievement of recognition as a distinct cultural—and therefore language—community, a large number of ethnolinguistic groups have sought to throw off the political causes that obliged them to feel and act as minorities in their own historical territory. This type of process has at least two stages: first, the creation of self-consciousness in relation to the unjust situation of political and/or language subordination; and second, the process leading toward a change in the political or language structure deemed inadequate by the subordinate group. Looking first at the initial internal process, it should be noted that there will probably be at least two different positions within the subordinate ethnolinguistic group on how to define the actual situation. Depending on the case, a larger or smaller part of the group may view the situation as appropriate and ‘normal,’ and support the arguments of a language assimilation ideology. Drawing their views from the ruling political structure, they will tend to think that all groups and individuals residing within the sovereign area of the state in question should speak and write in the same manner as the demo-politically dominant group—whose language will most commonly be the only one declared official. Thus, the proponents of this position will subscribe to the arguments put forth by the established political power and they will believe in the language superiority of the dominant group. On the other side of the question, the prevailing ideology will tend to be ‘language pluralism,’ based on the right of linguistically distinct societies to maintain and cultivate their languages based on the principle of equal rights for all human language communities. In the cases where this is so, this segment of the group will also often have individuals who champion not only the recognition of cultural pluralism, but also the recovery or acquisition of the group’s own politically sovereign organization, without any ties of subordination or dependence to the politically dominant group. To varying degrees, this entire segment will be in favor of challenging the established political order and, in some cases, of securing a minimum of equal rights among the language communities within the state or achieving a maximum of separation from the state and constructing a new political entity. Thus, in the context of solutions based on autonomy and official multilingualism or independence and a single official language, that of the group, we can see historical processes of sociolinguistic transformation that have gone not in the direction of language shift but rather toward what, drawing on Aracil’s initial proposal of terminology, we might call language ‘normalization,’ or a ‘reversing language shift’ process, as Fishman said (1991). If language competence and use—at least in individualized communications—have been kept alive and the population and its autonomous institutions have the will to do so, this type of recovery process can move forward, halting any intergenerational process of language shift underway and reaching if not complete normalization in the use of its code, then
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relative language stability. In the case that the group did not reach independence, that typically occurs without necessarily eliminating the bilingualization of the subordinate community in the dominant language of the state as a whole. Spain could be again a good example to understand this kind of evolutions. Nowadays Basque, Galician and Catalan languages share equal status with Castilian as official languages within the limits of their ‘autonomous communities’ (communities with regional governments), and other languages such as Aranese, Asturian and Aragonese enjoy some recognition from the public authorities, although this varies a great deal depending on the case. Castilian is, nevertheless, the only official state language as such, which means that Spain presents itself officially as a monolingual state. The policy of Spanish governments since 1978—the year of the new constitution—has not essentially altered either the legal framework or the monolinguistic inertia of the central government in most of the areas inside its jurisdiction. For example, Catalan citizens and organizations cannot communicate with the central government in Catalan, even in writing, in spite of the fact that Catalan is the second most widely spoken language in Spain. Comparison with a country such as Switzerland, for example, whose egalitarian principles allow the French community to be Swiss without renouncing their own language, spotlights the ground still to be covered. As a result, recognition of the Basque, Galician and Catalan languages in Europe is almost nil. Nonetheless, within this limited framework, the new autonomous governments of the Basque-, Galician- and Catalan-speaking areas have, with varying degrees of commitment, set in motion processes of linguistic normalization aimed at (re)instating their own language in institutionalized communications. In doing so they aim to halt the processes of linguistic extinction and to construct new sociolinguistic ecosystems which will permit the recovery and habitual use of their own languages and which will guarantee their future stability and normality. These normalization processes resemble each other in so far as they encourage the customary processes of standardization—given that the political conditions that prevailed in the past made the normal existence of a standard variety impossible—but differ, obviously, due to the complexity of their respective situations. This complexity resides in the fact that in these territories many people do not speak the local language and use only Castilian, because of intergenerational language shift, or because they are immigrants from other language areas of Spain. For this reason, points of departure in the different areas have tended to vary. For example, in the Basque country—even though the population in the main supports self-government and is proud of its culture—individuals who habitually use an autochthonous vernacular language variety are in the minority in the population as a whole. In this case, then, the process is not simply one of typical standardization but one of recovering the autochthonous language variety and using it for communicative functions in all areas, official, public or private. In the case of Galicia, the situation is different again. Of all the non-Castilian linguistic communities, Galicia has the highest proportion of residents who know the Indigenous vernacular varieties, and is thus in theory the community with the most favorable preconditions. Nonetheless, the commonly accepted ideas of the value of local linguistic forms work against the normalization of Galician. As often happens in a situation characterized by long term political and economic subordination, the speakers of vernaculars come to see their own language negatively, devaluing it symbolically and investing Castilian—historically used in all official and nonofficial public functions—with greater prestige and higher use in urban settings. Within the language area in which Catalan is used in its several variants, we also find significant differences. One of the complex aspects of Catalan/Spanish contact is to understand 34
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why the repression and prohibition of the public use of Catalan during most of the first three-quarters of the 20th century produced disparate language behaviors and ideologies in Catalonia and other areas such as the autonomous community of Valencia or the Balearic Islands. It is not easy to explain the reasons for these contrasts. One of the differential elements might be the earlier industrialization of Catalonia, which led to the creation of an autochthonous bourgeoisie and a positive self-image with respect to other areas of Spain, which lagged behind in this respect. The autonomous community of Valencia, for example, had a more agricultural economy that was less developed. Today, however, the Valencia region has an advanced economy and developed agriculture. Yet the people’s image of their identity, in large part, does not correspond to that of Catalonia. Whereas numerous people in Catalonia report feeling strictly Catalan or more Catalan than Spanish, the opposite is true in the autonomous community of Valencia. That is, a substantial number of individuals feel more Spanish than Valencian or both in equal terms (Coller, 2006). It is in this aspect of the hierarchical organization of identities where we could find an explanation for their differing language behaviors. When making a choice of identity between the state and the community of origin, a positive group self-representation supports the intergenerational maintenance of the language. Conversely, if the group’s own identity is considered to be subordinate to the one of the state, the language will tend to be viewed as dispensable and the group will opt for the state’s dominant official language. Once again, we see how the elements that may have an effect on the selection of language behaviors are complexly intertwined. What this comparison between Catalonia and the Valencian community again shows is how important it is to ecologically introduce the historical element when examining language behaviors in situations of contact and to study such situations on a case-by-case basis. Perhaps in many processes of bilingualization and language shift, the elements are alike or very similar, but path dependency also exerts an influence and it can be crucial for the final outcomes. As the Irish case also appears to confirm, even when there is full political control, the previously subordinate group can run into enormous difficulties in achieving a successful reversing language shift process. Even when the population’s attitudes and predispositions strongly favor restoring full use of Gaelic, the sociolinguistic situation will be hard to change in those cases in which the language is not only missing from institutionalized communications but has also largely disappeared from individualized ones. It appears much easier to move from individualized to institutionalized communications, rather than the opposite. Yet the latter is not impossible, as the case of Hebrew in Israel seems to show. In particular, if the loss is not simply in use but also in competence, the reintroduction of an autochthonous language code basically through the school system offers no certainty that it will be adopted as a language of everyday colloquial communication, a basic function for the ‘natural’ sociocultural reproduction of languages. In the Irish case, there are also other factors that may further hamper the revitalization process. The significant degree of structural distance between Gaelic and English, for instance, may be an additional obstacle to the adoption of Gaelic in habitual social use. Given that competence in English has frequently been acquired at home, the norms of language use among individuals have already been established in that language. Just as any behavior does, such norms become subconscious and routine and so tend to persist automatically and hamper the adoption of Gaelic in interpersonal relations. Political independence may not be a necessary condition for a process of language recovery to be completely successful, however, if the community embarking on the process has 35
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control over its territory at least in language aspects, and the state to which it belongs recognizes and is organized to provide effective protection to the subordinate language community. In this sense, communities joined together in states with a confederal or federal structure based on the principles of egalitarian plurilingualism can, at least in theory, achieve quite stable sociolinguistic situations even though they remain politically bound up with other distinct language communities. In this type of structure, however, the weight of other factors (e.g., demographics, economics, the media, etc.) is not clear. The Swiss example, however, does have demographically uneven groups and it appears to show that the application of egalitarian plurilingualism at the federal level and the principle of territoriality at the level of each language community can lead to the normal and stable coexistence of linguistically diverse groups in a single shared political organization.
New Issues and Future Trends The current collection of processes we call ‘globalization’ present us now with a significant growth of linguistic contact in areas which historically have maintained a status quo that has allowed individuals and societies to ensure a certain functional monolingualism and political self-control, as majority language groups (Coupland, 2010; Bastardas-Boada, 2012). A novelty of this process is that the knowledge of more than one language or having to use these with different interlocutors or for different functions (an issue previously affecting only elite groups or minoritized or small linguistic groups) is now an increasingly everyday phenomenon for many individuals from larger and/or majority linguistic groups within their states. This extended language contact and the plurilingual needs of more and more members of human groups that were, up until now, nonminority (in the traditional sense of the word), are generating feelings of cultural threat and defensive reactions, previously only experienced by groups habitually minoritized through political integration without official and public recognition. Although these feelings of linguistic insecurity and threat may be exaggerated in most cases, this effect of globalization is a good starting point for a serious review of the foundations of the linguistic organization of mankind as a whole. Now that this sense of feeling threatened is not exclusive to politically-subordinated groups, now that it encompasses those that are beginning to suffer from the (inter)dependence of economies, technology and the mass media, it should be used to increase understanding of the classical situation of minoritization by larger, minoritizing groups. In fact, a vitally important question now arising is how as human beings we should organize ourselves so we can maintain and develop the language of each group without being globally minoritized. From the ecological complexity perspective two languages can coexist in an individual and in human societies if people can distribute the uses of the languages they speak and can identify themselves with different categories. Research should focus on the study of the application of the principle known as ‘subsidiarity’ in the field of linguistic communication. We could translate this politico-administrative category into a gloto-political one that, in a general manner, would establish the criteria that a more ‘global’ language should not do anything a ‘local’ language can do. This is to say that we would allow and promote an effective, massive learning of other languages, while always accepting whenever possible the functional preeminence of the language of every historically constructed linguistic group. The languages known as ‘foreign’ would be used for exterior contacts, but everyday local functions would be clearly assigned to each group’s own language. These preferent or exclusive functions of the group’s code should obviously 36
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not be limited to informal oral communication, but rather should encompass the maximum number of formal and written functions with the aim that the individual representations and valuations were not seen to be diverted towards other languages that are external to the group. This approach should promote a process of gradual transformation from the current model of the linguistic organization of the human species, a transformation whose objective would be to avoid that collective bilingualism or plurilingualism of human beings must require the abandonment by different cultural groups of their own languages. From this approach, a sustainable linguistic contact (Bastardas-Boada, 2007) will be that which does not produce linguistic exposure or linguistic use in allochthonous language at a speed and/ or pressure—to a degree—so high as to make impossible the stable continuity of the autochthonous languages of human groups. We can, then, state that the sustainable character of a massive bilingualization comes from the comparison between the degree of valuation and functions of the language that is not originally that of the group (L2) and that of the language that is originally that of the group (L1). If the first is lower, the contact massive and the bilingualization are sustainable. If it is greater, the bilingualization is not sustainable and the language original to the group will degrade and disappear in a few decades. This new form of language ethics should be based on an ecological vision of the sociolinguistic situation and not limit itself to the official or normative plan. It should involve the whole of the factors involved in the situation and its evolution, thereby ensuring that public authorities act in a compensatory, stabilizing manner, favorable to the linguistic groups that are proportionally weaker. This is a viewpoint that will allow us to create the right conditions for the sustainability of every linguistic group. More than merely seeking equality, we should seek fairness, in order to ensure a sociocultural ecosystem that favors stability and linguistic diversity, and, at the same time, the intercomprehension of the whole humanity.
Further Reading Boudreau, A., Dubois, L., Maurais, J. and McConnell, G. (2002), L’écologie des langues/Ecology of languages: Mélanges William Mackey/Homage to William Mackey. Paris: L’Harmattan. Creese, A., Martin, P. and Hornberger, N. H. (eds.) (2010), Ecology of Language: Encyclopedia of Language and Education. Vol. 9. New York: Springer. Edwards, J. (2010), Minority Languages and Group Identities: Cases and Categories. Amsterdam, Philadelphia: John Benjamins. Fill, A. and Mühlhäusler, P. (eds.) (2001), The Ecolinguistics Reader: Language, Ecology, and Environment. London and New York: Continuum. Nadège, L. (2009, June), ‘The intertwined histories of ecolinguistics and ecological approaches of language(s)’, presented at the Symposium on Ecolinguistics: The Ecology of Science, Odense, Denmark. . Steffensen, S. V. and Fill, A. (2014), ‘Ecolinguistics: State of the art and future horizons’, Language Sciences, 41: 6–25. Vandenbussche, W., Jahr, E. H. and Trudgill, P. (eds.) (2013), Language Ecology for the 21st Century: Linguistic Conflicts and Social Environments. Oslo: Novus Press.
References Aracil, L. V. (1965), Conflit linguistique et normalisation linguistique dans l’Europe Nouvelle. Nancy: Centre Européen Universitaire [Reprinted in Catalan in Papers de sociolingüística, Barcelona: La Magrana, 1982, 23–38]. 37
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Aracil, L. V. (1979), ‘Educació i sociolingüística [Education and Sociolinguistics]’, Treballs de sociolingüística catalana, 2: 33–86. Bastardas-Boada, A. (1996), Ecologia de les llengües: Medi, contactes i dinámica sociolingüística [Ecology of Languages. Environment, Contact and Sociolinguistic Dynamics]. Barcelona: Proa. Bastardas-Boada, A. (2002), ‘Biological and linguistic diversity: Transdisciplinary explorations for a socioecology of languages’, Diverscité Langues, 7 (published online: www.teluq.ca/diverscite/ SecArtic/Arts/2002/bastarda/ftxt.htm) (viewed December 22, 2015). Bastardas-Boada, A. (2007), ‘Linguistic sustainability for a multilingual humanity’, Glossa: An Ambilingual Interdisciplinary Journal, 2(1–2): 180–202. [Reprinted in Sustainable Multilingualism, 5 (2014): 134–163.] Bastardas-Boada, A. (2012), Language and Identity Policies in the ‘glocal’ Era: New Processes, Effects and Principles of Organization. Barcelona: Institut d’Estudis Autonòmics. Bateson, G. (1972), Steps to an Ecology of Mind. New York: Ballantine Books. Calvet, L.-J. (1999), Pour une écologie des langues du monde. Paris: Plon. [English version: Towards an Ecology of World Languages. Cambridge: Polity Press, 2006]. Coller, X. (2006), ‘Collective identities and failed nationalism: The case of Valencia in Spain’, Pôle Sud, 25: 107–136. Coupland, N. (ed.) (2010), The Handbook of Language and Globalization. Oxford: Blackwell. Denison, N. (1982), ‘A linguistic ecology for Europe?’ Folia Linguistica, 16(1–4): 5–16. De Swaan, A. (2001), Words of the World: The Global Language System. Cambridge: Polity Press. Edwards, J. (2008), ‘The ecology of language: Insight and illusion’, in Creese, P. Martin, and N. Hornberger (eds.), Encyclopedia of Language and Education. Vol. 9: Ecology of language. New York: Springer, pp. 15–26. Eliot, T. S. (1948), Notes Towards the Definition of Culture. London: Faber and Faber. Ferguson, C. (1959). ‘Diglossia’, Word, 15: 325–340. Fishman, J. A. (1991), Reversing Language Shift: Theoretical and Empirical Foundations of Assistance to Threatened Languages. Clevedon: Multilingual Matters. Haarman, H. (1986), Language in Ethnicity: A View of Basic Ecological Relations. Berlin: Mouton de Gruyter. Haugen, E. (2001 [1971]), ‘The ecology of language’, in A. Fill and P. Mühlhäusler (eds.), The Ecolinguistics Reader: Language, Ecology, and Environment. London, New York: Continuum, pp. 57–66. [First published in The Linguistic Reporter Supplement 25, pp. 19–26. Also reprinted in: Anwar S. Dil (ed.) (1972), The Ecology of Language, Stanford: Stanford University Press, pp. 325–339.] Junyent, C. (1989), Les llengües del món: Ecolingüística [The Languages of the World: Ecolinguistics]. Barcelona: Empúries. Junyent, C. (1998), Contra la planificació. Una proposta ecolingüística [Against Planning: An Ecolinguistic Approach]. Barcelona: Empúries. Mackey, W. F. (1974), L’écologie éducationnelle du bilingüisme. Quebec: Centre International de Recherche sur le Bilinguisme, Université Laval. Mackey, W. F. (1979), ‘Toward an ecology of language contact’, in W. F. Mackey and J. Ornstein (eds.), Sociolinguistic Studies in Language Contact: Methods and Cases. New York: Mouton, pp. 453–459. Mackey, W. F. (1980), ‘The ecology of language shift’, in P. H. Nelde (ed.), Sprachkontakt und Sprachkonflikt. Wiesbaden: Franz Steiner, pp. 35–41. Maffi, L. (ed.) (2001), On Biocultural Diversity: Linking Language, Knowledge, and the Environment. Washington, DC: Smithsonian Institution Press. Morin, E. (1980), La vie de la vie. Paris: Seuil. Mufwene, S. S. (2001), The Ecology of Language Evolution. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Mufwene, S. S. (2008), Language Evolution, Competition and Change. London, New York: Continuum. Mufwene, S. S. and Vigouroux, C. B. (2012), ‘Individuals, populations, and timespace: Perspectives on the ecology of language’, Cahiers de Linguistique, 38(2): 111–137. 38
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Mühlhäusler, P. (1996), Linguistic Ecology: Language Change and Linguistic Imperialism in the Pacific Region. London: Routledge. Pennycook, A. (2004), ‘Language policy and the ecological turn’, Language Policy, 3(3): 213–239. Skutnabb-Kangas, T. and Phillipson, R. (2008), ‘A human rights perspective on language ecology’, in A. Creese, P. Martin and N. Hornberger (eds.), Encyclopedia of Language and Education. Vol. 9: Ecology of language. New York: Springer, pp. 3–14. Terborg, R. (2006), ‘La ecología de presiones’ en el desplazamiento de las lenguas indígenas por el español. Presentación de un modelo’, Forum Qualitative Sozialforschung, 7(4): Article 39. Terborg, R. and García-Landa, L. (2013), ‘The ecology of pressures: Towards a tool to analyze the complex process of language shift and maintenance’, in A. Bastardas-Boada and À. Massip-Bonet (eds.), Complexity Perspective on Language, Communication and Society. Berlin: Springer, pp. 219–239. Voegelin, C. F. and Voegelin, F. M. (1964), ‘Languages of the world: Native America fascicle one. Contemporary language situations in the new world’, Anthropological Linguistics, 6(6): 2–45. Voegelin, C. F., Voegelin, F. M. and N. W. Schutz (1967), ‘The language situation in Arizona as part of the Southwestern culture area’, in D. Hymes and W. E. Bittle (eds.), Studies in Southwestern Ethnolinguistics: Meaning and History in the Languages of the American Southwest. The Hague: Mouton, pp. 403–451. Weinreich, U. (1968) [1953]. Languages in Contact. The Hague: Mouton.
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3 Language Endangerment and Language Death The Future of Language Diversity Suzanne Romaine
Introduction Global linguistic diversity is decreasing sharply and rapidly. Various estimates predict that 25% to 90% of the world’s 7,000 some languages (most unwritten and undocumented) may soon vanish. Precise calculations of extinction rates and endangerment risk are difficult to obtain and vary widely for reasons discussed in this chapter. After outlining the current state of linguistic diversity from a global perspective, this chapter will examine the issue of endangerment in more detail and consider some challenges in evaluating priorities for preserving the future of language diversity.
The Current State of Global Linguistic Diversity Different aspects of linguistic diversity are distributed in different ways across the world. The most commonly used metric in global assessments of language diversity and endangerment is language richness, i.e. number of languages in relation to some unit, like country or region. No one knows precisely how many languages exist, either historically or presently. The attention of linguists has been highly selective, focusing mainly on more familiar and easily accessible languages spoken by large numbers of people. Hence, 80% or more of the world’s languages have yet to be adequately recorded, classified, and studied. Most assessments of the current state of global language diversity rely on data compiled by the Summer Institute of Linguistics, released periodically since 1950 in the Ethnologue, a catalogue of all known languages of the world. Their most recent count lists 7,102 languages, including 137 sign languages, in use among the world population of 6.3 billion people (Lewis et al., 2015). This figure does not include dialects because no clear criteria exist for defining boundaries between languages and dialects (see Wolfram and Schilling-Estes [1998] on dialect endangerment; Hammarström [2015] on Ethnologue’s reliability). In addition, Ethnologue reports 367 languages that have become extinct since 1950. This rate of loss amounts to six languages per year, considerably more conservative than Crystal’s (2000: 19) estimate of one language extinction every two weeks. However, given our lack of knowledge about many regions, thousands of languages have probably gone extinct without 40
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a trace. Moreover, it is difficult to know exactly when to consider a language extinct. A language may have effectively disappeared from active everyday use without being completely forgotten by all its former speakers. Many languages survive only in remembered bits and pieces and are no longer regularly used. It is not always possible to locate all the remaining speakers in a dwindling and sometimes scattered population, and it is sometimes no longer clear even to community members themselves who still speaks or remembers a language once more widely spoken. In addition, languages like Manx, whose last speaker died in 1974, and the Miami language of Oklahoma, whose last speaker died in the early 1960s, are undergoing revitalization and gaining new speakers and uses. Some prefer to use the term ‘sleeping’ or ‘dormant’ rather than ‘extinct’ to refer to documented languages associated with populations claiming a heritage to but no speaking knowledge. Still other languages not spoken for over a century, like Kaurna, once used by Aboriginal people in what is now the area of Adelaide in South Australia, are being reconstructed from written sources and are being used for limited activities such as greetings, songs, and naming activities (Amery, 2001). The revitalization of dormant or sleeping languages is sometimes also referred to as ‘(re)awakening.’ For most of human history the world was close to linguistic equilibrium, with the number of languages dying roughly equaling the new ones created. This balance endured for millennia because there were no massive differences between the expansionary potential of different peoples of the type that might cause a single, dominant language to spread over a large area. However, various events have punctured this equilibrium forever. First, the spread of agriculture, the rise of colonialism, later the Industrial Revolution, and today mass media, globalization of economies, etc., have propelled a few languages to spread over the last few centuries. A very small number of Eurasian languages like Chinese, English, Arabic and Hindi have spread around the world to become the official languages of government and education, with English very much in the lead. Today a language of European origin— either English, Spanish, Portuguese or French—is the dominant language in every country in North, Central and South America.
Global Language Richness The spread of large languages in modern times has rendered the distribution of languages across the globe strikingly uneven. Figure 3.1 shows enormous disparities in the size of populations speaking the world’s languages. If all languages were equal in size, each would have around 885,000 speakers. Instead, however, the median size for a language is actually only about 7,000 speakers. Grouping all languages into three categories based on the size of their speaker populations reveals only 394 languages with at least a million speakers (Lewis et al., 2015). In fact, the number of languages with more than one million speakers has expanded over the last two decades as the world population has grown by about 25% (Loh and Harmon, 2014: 24). Most of the world’s languages (N = 3,943 or 55%), however, are spoken by a total of only 8 million people, a tiny fraction (less than 1%) of the world’s population. Between these two extremes, 357 million people speak a total of 2,765 languages ranging between 10,000 and 999,999 speakers. Figure 3.2 shows the nine largest languages, each with 100 million or more speakers as a percentage of world population. Altogether these very large languages are spoken by about half the world’s population and have large global footprints because they are all spoken in more than one country. Their spread would be even more extensive if figures for second language speakers are included. Although with only 335 million speakers, English is not the 41
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2,765 languages 357 million speakers 394 languages 5.9 billion speakers
3,943 languages 8 million speakers LANGUAGES
LANGUAGES SPEAKERS
Figure 3.1 The global language divide: Distribution of languages and speakers [based on data from Lewis et al., 2015]
Chinese 19%
Spanish 6% Other 50% English 5% Hindi 4% Arabic 4% Portuguese 3% Bengali 3% Japanese 2%
Russian 3%
Figure 3.2 Languages with 100 million or more speakers as a percentage of world population [based on data from Lewis et al., 2015]
world’s largest language, it is without doubt the most important of a small handful of what may be called ‘global languages’ in terms of geographic spread and number of users worldwide. In addition to large numbers of English speakers in the United States, UK, New Zealand, Canada, Australia and South Africa, the number of non-native speakers ranges from 470 million to more than 2 billion and greatly outnumbers native speakers (Crystal, 2003). Languages are also unevenly distributed across regions and countries of the world. Africa and Asia each have around 30% of the world’s languages, whereas the Americas account 42
Language Endangerment and Language Death
for around 15%, and Europe only 4%. Generally speaking, language richness (like species richness) correlates strongly with latitude, resulting in many more languages (and species) in the tropics than at higher latitudes (Mace and Pagel, 1995; Nettle and Romaine, 2000; Gorenflo et al., 2012, 2014; Gavin and Stepp, 2014). The reasons for this skewed geographic distribution for languages are still not well understood, given the complexity of different environmental, social, political, economic and historical factors operating in different areas (Currie and Mace, 2009). Eurasia, for instance, has a history of human settlement at least as ancient as New Guinea going back 50,000 some years, but yet has far fewer languages, presumably at least partly due to the spread of agriculture and the rise of empires. Conventional explanations for the linguistic diversity of New Guinea as well as other mountainous areas like the Caucasus have typically invoked the rugged terrain as a significant factor impeding communication between groups. However, geographic barriers to dispersion of groups and languages cannot on their own satisfactorily explain high levels of linguistic diversity. The areas of greatest linguistic diversity in New Guinea are concentrated in coastal regions like the northeast-facing coast and the islands to the east in the Bismarck Archipelago, whereas the highlands, by contrast, with some of the most isolated and rugged areas, are more uniform linguistically. The absence of state formation in New Guinea has generally inhibited the sustained spread of any one language group, whereas in the Highlands specifically, lower incidence of malaria has allowed a few large language groups like Enga, Huli, etc., with over 100,000 speakers to spread (see Fincher and Thornhill, 2008, concerning variation in parasite intensity and species dispersion). In addition, the presence of pidgins/creoles as lingua francas like Tok Pisin in Papua New Guinea has helped, at least until recently, to maintain linguistic diversity by facilitating inter-group communication. Social factors have probably played at least as important a role as geography in the development of linguistic diversity in the Caucasus too (Comrie, 2008: 140–141). Languages do not respect geopolitical borders; however, the nation-state is the most critical unit of analysis in assessing endangerment because policies pursued within national boundaries give some languages (and their speakers) the status of majority and others that of minority. As the bedrock of the current political world order, the nation-state therefore plays a key role in determining which cultures and languages will survive and which will not. Not coincidentally, the vast majority of today’s threatened languages and cultures are found among socially and politically marginalized and/or subordinated national and ethnic minority groups, who face unprecedented pressure to abandon their local languages. Estimates of the number of such groups range from 5,000 to 8,000, among them Indigenous peoples, who are particularly vulnerable to forces of language shift. Comprising about 4% of the world population, and one-third of the world’s 900 million extremely poor rural people, they speak around 60% of the world’s languages (Nettle and Romaine, 2000: ix). Figure 3.3a shows that just over 80% (N = 5,772) of the world’s languages are found in just 20 countries, including some of the richest in the world (United States, Canada and Australia) as well as some of the poorest (Chad, Democratic Republic of the Congo and Nigeria). Other measures of linguistic diversity provide a more nuanced view by examining the number of speakers of each language in a country as a proportion of the total population. Figure 3.3b shows the top 20 countries based on Greenberg’s (1956) index of linguistic diversity, ranging from 0 to 1, with 0 indicating no diversity, and 1indicating total diversity, i.e. no two people speak the same language. Although seven of the same countries (i.e. Papua New Guinea, Nigeria, Vanuatu, India, Cameroon, Democratic Republic of the Congo, Chad) appear in both rankings, these metrics yield somewhat different results. 43
Papua New Guinea Indonesia Nigeria India United States China Mexico Cameroon Australia Brazil Democratic Republic of the Congo Philippines Canada Malaysia Russian Federation Chad Tanzania Nepal Vanuatu
839 707 526 454 422 300 289 281 245 229 212 193 174 146 140 131 126 125 116 0
100
200
300
400
500
600
700
800
900
Figure 3.3a Twenty countries with highest number of languages Source: Based on data from Lewis et al., 2015
Papua New Guinea Cameroon Vanuatu Solomon Islands Central African Republic Democratic Republic of the Congo Chad Mozambique Benin South Sudan Kenya Uganda Côte d’Ivoire India Togo Liberia Nigeria South Africa Guinea-Bissau Mali 0.8
0.82 0.84 0.86 0.88
0.9
0.92
Figure 3.3b Twenty countries with highest index of linguistic diversity Source: Based on data from Lewis et al., 2015
0.94 0.96 0.98
1
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Global Phylogenetic Diversity Advances in various datasets and analytical methods allow researchers to address the distribution and composition of global linguistic diversity and its evolutionary dynamics in a more systematic fashion. Although measures of language richness give equal weight to all languages, computational phylogenetics is shedding new light on the geographic location and time depth of language families and their spread. Measures of phylogenetic diversity consider the number of different language families or branches of families in relation to some unit, e.g., country or region. Nettle and Romaine (2000: 32–39), for example, mapped hotbeds of linguistic diversity defined in terms of number of languages in relation to phylogenetic units. Although there is no unanimously agreed system of genetic classification, looking at the landscape of linguistic diversity from a phylogenetic or family perspective provides a more nuanced measure than simply counting the number of languages because the diversity distinguishing language families from one another has taken much longer to develop than that which distinguishes languages in the same family. Papua New Guinea, for instance, tops the list of both Figures 3.3a and 3.3b, followed by Cameroon and Vanuatu. Comparing these three, however, illustrates clearly the contrasts between various dimensions of language richness and phylogenetic diversity. Thus, Papua New Guinea has many more languages than Cameroon or Vanuatu; it also has a larger population and land area than Vanuatu, so that on average there is one language per 900 km2. Vanuatu, however, with 112 languages spoken by a population of about 260,000 scattered over 80 islands comprising 12,189 km2, has the greatest language density of all countries, with about one per 88 km2 (François et al., 2015: 8). Although not as dense, Papua New Guinea’s linguistic richness reflects deeper phylogenetic diversity. Vanuatu’s languages all belong to one family, viz. Oceanic, while Papua New Guinea’s belong to at least 40 or 50. Meanwhile, Cameroon has much less phylogenetic diversity than Papua New Guinea, but more than Vanuatu; its languages belong to three language families—Niger Congo, Nilo-Saharan and Afro-Asiatic. If all of Europe’s languages vanished, we would lose relatively little of the world’s phylogenetic linguistic diversity. Europe has only about 4% (N = 286) of the world’s languages, belonging to only six families. Four of the languages with more than 100 million speakers are European (Figure 3.2), and most of the largest European languages are also widely spoken outside Europe. More importantly, however, most of Europe’s languages are structurally quite similar because they are related historically. If the same number of languages in Papua New Guinea or the Americas (which contains the highest number of families—as many as 200) disappeared, the loss would be far more significant because the divergence between languages there runs much deeper. By contrast, the African continent with its 2,138 languages accounts for nearly one-third of the world’s languages, but contains relatively few language families. Even if all the languages of Europe and Africa disappeared, we would still lose a relatively small amount of global phylogenetic diversity. The Americas and Papua New Guinea are also rich in terms of the number of isolates, i.e., languages with no known relatives, and no demonstrable genetic relationship to any other language. Isolates are in effect language families with only one member and are distinct from unclassified languages, i.e., languages for which data is lacking to establish genetic relatedness to other languages.
Assessing Language Vitality and Criteria for Endangerment Differing data, terminology and categories used by different researchers and resources make it very difficult to assess language vitality and endangerment on a global and regional scale 45
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as well as to gauge trends longitudinally. Often the only common category is that of extinct, which is also open to differing interpretations. Therefore, comparing various resources reveals a wide range of overall endangerment estimates: 25% (Amano et al., 2014; Loh and Harmon, 2014), 32% (Sutherland, 2003), 34% (Lewis et al., 2015), 43% (Moseley, 2010), 46% (Catalog of Endangered languages, n.d.), 90% (Krauss, 1992). Most scholars offer more conservative estimates than Krauss (1992), who suggested that 50% of languages might already be moribund and that only those with over 100,000 speakers are safe. Relying on size as a proxy for endangerment will yield different risk rates globally and regionally depending on number of speakers considered necessary for a language to be viable. If Krauss is right, then using Ethnologue’s most recent data, 80% (N = 5,765) of the world’s languages could be at risk. If the viability threshold is set at the lower level of 10,000 speakers, then up to 55% (N = 3,943) of languages could be vulnerable. The lowest estimates in this range, 25% and 32%, also rely on population size, but are based on a more limited sample of languages, and apply the IUCN’s (International Union for Conservation of Nature) Red List criteria for species endangerment to languages. Biological criteria regard a language as threatened if speaker numbers fall below a critical threshold (1,000 for vulnerable, 250 for endangered, 50 for critically endangered), even if there is no decline across generations (see Table 3.1). Using the criteria of restricted geographical range, small population size and rapid population decline, Amano et al. (2014) concluded that 25% of languages are endangered, with the tropics, Himalayas and northwestern North America at greatest risk. In addition, they suggest that the viability threshold is about 330 speakers, much lower than Krauss’s. Although speaker numbers may be a critical indicator for vulnerability to the kinds of pressures leading to language extinction, and small languages can disappear much faster than large ones, size does not tell the whole story. In some parts of the world languages have always been small in terms of both speaker numbers and range, e.g., Australia and New Guinea. In Vanuatu languages typically have only a few hundred speakers and are spoken in one or two villages; only 22 languages have more than 3,000 speakers (François et al., 2015: 8). Available data do not always allow us to distinguish if a language originally had a small range size or if its range size has contracted recently. Even languages with large speaker numbers can lose many speakers within a short period depending on circumstances. Ravindranath and Cohn (2014) found little correlation between small size and threatened Table 3.1 IUCN Red List criteria applied to language endangerment Least concern Near threatened Vulnerable
Endangered
Critically endangered
Extinct 46
Speakers are widespread and abundant Not currently threatened, but likely to be in near future Speakers observed or projected to decline by 30% or more in three generations (75 years), or number less than 10,000 and declining by 10% or more in three generations, or speakers number less than 1,000 Speakers observed or projected to decline by 50% or more in three generations, or number less than 2,500 and declining by 20% or more in two generations (50 years), or speakers number less than 250 Speakers observed or projected to decline by 80% or more in three generations, or number less than 250 and declining by 25% or more in one generation (25 years), or speakers number less than 50 No speakers remain
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status (or conversely, large size and stability) for languages of Indonesia. Many large languages like Javanese, by far the most widely spoken local language, are endangered. Indeed, Javanese is the 11th largest language in the world, spoken in three countries by 84.3 million speakers. However, it is the only language in this group that is not a national or official language of any country. Even more importantly, however, younger speakers are shifting towards Indonesian as their primary home language. The health of a language quite obviously depends on the youngest generation. Languages are certainly in danger when parents or other caretakers no longer transmit them to children. UNESCO’s Atlas of the World’s Languages in Danger of Disappearing suggested that languages being learned by less than 30% of young people may be vulnerable, and estimated that up to half of the world’s languages may be endangered (Wurm, 2001: 14). UNESCO’s most recent edition of the atlas, covering about 2,466 potentially threatened languages (Moseley, 2010), relies on an index of Linguistic Vitality and Endangerment (LVE) incorporating nine factors (UNESCO, 2003). Each factor may be further broken down, as indicated in Table 3.2, highlighting six possible degrees of endangerment for intergenerational transmission. Overall, LVE distinguishes four levels of endangerment: vulnerable, definitely endangered, severely endangered, and critically endangered. Globally, at least 43% of languages assessed are endangered, with around 18% falling into the severely or critically endangered categories. The Catalogue of Endangered Languages (ElCat), a similar resource to UNESCO’s atlas, focusing specifically on endangered languages, lists 3,242 languages, categorized into eight levels of endangerment (at risk, vulnerable, threatened, endangered, severely endangered, critically endangered, dormant and awakening) based on four factors: intergenerational transmission, absolute number of speakers, speaker number trends, and domains of use. Table 3.2 UNESCO’s Linguistic Vitality and Endangerment (LVE) 1. Absolute number of speakers 2. Intergenerational language transmission 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9.
Degree of endangerment safe spoken by all generations vulnerable spoken by most children, but may be restricted to certain domains definitely endangered no longer learned at home severely endangered spoken by grandparents and older generations, but not used with children critically endangered youngest speakers are grandparents and older, use the language partially and infrequently extinct no speakers left Community members’ attitudes towards their own language Shifts in domains of language use Governmental and institutional language attitudes and policies, including official status and use Type and quality of documentation Response to new domains and media Availability of materials for language education and literacy Proportion of speakers within the total population 47
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ElCat’s estimate for global endangerment is 46%, with one language disappearing every three months, but unlike UNESCO’s, LVE does not regard amount and quality of documentation as a factor contributing to language vitality. Table 3.2 also compares LVE with the criteria used by EGIDS (Expanded Graded Intergenerational Disruption Scale), an adaptation and expansion of Fishman’s (1991) Graded Intergenerational Disruption Scale (GIDS). Since 2013, each Ethnologue language entry includes an EGIDS score ranging from 0 to 10 based on the state of development versus endangerment. Languages undergoing endangerment have greater disruption and receive higher numbers, while those with lower numbers demonstrate greater levels of development. Globally, the majority of languages (N = 4,655, or 66%) are vital, i.e., level 6a or higher, but about 34% (N = 2,447) of languages worldwide are in trouble or dying because their EGIDS scores are between 6b and 9. They are spoken by 67,346,555 speakers, who make up 1.07% of population. This represents more than the number (N = 1,598, 23%) of developing languages, i.e., those above the 6a default stage of vigorous oral use. Only 8% (N = 576) of the world’s languages can be considered institutionalized, i.e., have reached EGIDS stages 1–4. Endangerment is also distributed unevenly, as seen in Figure 3.4, which shows EGIDS scores grouped into five categories for languages by region and the world. The Americas have the highest percent (61%) of languages at risk, followed by Asia with 38%, Europe with 35%, the Pacific with 34% and Africa with 17%. These figures also reflect a correlation between size and risk. European, Asian and African languages tend to be large, whereas languages in the Americas and Pacific are much smaller. There are also clearly strong links between language vitality, size, domains of use and status. A healthy language is used in all domains. The three highest EGIDS levels distinguish international, national, provincial recognition. The healthiest (and safest) languages are the six official languages of the United Nations: English, French, Spanish, Russian, Arabic and Chinese. These six account for
100% 90%
131 245
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50%
693
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8a-9 dying 2,479
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6a vigorous
234
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203
Africa
Pacific
Americas
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1,598
5 developing
578
0-4 institutional
73
Europe
WORLD
Figure 3.4 Language endangerment by region using EGIDS scores Source: Based on data from Lewis et al., 2015
48
6b-7 in trouble
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0.1% of the world’s languages. The world’s 95 national languages (EGIDS 1) are spoken by about 60% of the world’s population, with a median size of about 7 million speakers. Fewer than 4% of the world’s languages have any kind of official status in the countries where they are spoken. A very small handful of languages function as languages of government and education. English, for example, is the dominant de facto or official language in at least 98 countries, whereas French has official or co-official status in 54. Less than 10% of the world’s languages have reached EGIDS 4, i.e., are used in education, whereas fewer than a third have reached EGIDS 5, i.e., literacy. Uninstitutionalized languages (EGIDS 5–6a) constitute 57% of the world’s languages and have a median size of about 20,000 speakers. Overall then, the distribution of languages along a continuum of endangerment to development is skewed toward endangerment in the Americas and Pacific, but toward development in Europe. Africa has relatively few developed languages, with most countries favoring colonial European languages as official. Even regions like Europe, where 25% (N = 73) of languages are institutionalized (more than three times the rest of the world), the connection between official recognition and development status is evident. A quarter (N = 73) of Europe’s languages have official status at the international, national or provincial level, whereas fewer than 1% (0.7%, N = 503) have similar status in the rest of the world. Lewis and Simons (2014) found greater degrees of endangerment for European minority languages not covered by the European Charter for Regional and Minority Languages (ECRML), an instrument providing some measures of protection for some of Europe’s minority languages (Council of Europe, 1992). There are twice as many endangered languages, i.e., those with EGIDS scores between 6b and 10, in the 22 out of 47 countries that have not ratified ECRML.
Problems in Assessing Endangerment Endangerment scales like EGIDS and LVE can be only as reliable as the sources of information they rely on. Inevitably, these tools provide a static snapshot of a language at a single moment in time using available resources. In practice, the amount and kind of data required for reliable evaluation of risk can be gained only through rigorous on-the-ground fieldwork and on-going monitoring of individual communities. Although EGIDS is currently the most comprehensive tool available for assessing language endangerment globally, regionally, and country-by-country and represents a major step toward global evaluation of language vitality, it is not without problems. EGIDS does not consider absolute or relative speaker numbers, community language attitudes, government policies and documentation like LVE. Ethnologue treats every language as a single speech community, assigning the highest possible EGIDS score on a country-by-country basis even though within countries a language may encompass numerous smaller speech communities with different and often continually changing sociolinguistic dynamics. Hence, cross-border languages and languages spoken by widespread diasporic populations may have different EGIDS scores, depending on factors like size of speech community, presence of other languages, language status etc. Venda in South Africa ranks as EGIDS 1 as one of 11 official languages, whereas in neighboring Zimbabwe it is only EGIDS 5. Chinese ranks as EGIDS 1 in China and Malaysia, where it shares co-official status with English and Malay, but in Myanmar, where it is spoken by about half a million, Chinese is EGIDS 5. Although Ethnologue provides speaker numbers for 96% of languages, they vary in quality and recentness. Because population estimates are not automatically extrapolated to the current year, this creates some anomalies, especially when comparing countries like 49
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Canada, Australia, Ireland, and the United States, which collect various kinds of information on languages in their census reports. Ethnologue uses the most recent information for Canada (2011) and the United States (2010), but not for Australia (2011) or Ireland (2011). ElCat uses the most recent census data for Irish, but not for Indigenous languages in Australia or Canada. ElCat, however, has a useful feature allowing comparison of some key facts like speaker numbers and endangerment level across different sources, including UNESCO’s atlas and Ethnologue (albeit not the most recent version). ElCat also gives an estimate of reliability for its vitality ratings. In addition, UNESCO’s LVE allows finer distinctions within each of its nine factors, thus yielding a more detailed assessment of the relative strength or weakness of a language or community overall than EGIDS or ElCat. Nevertheless, lack of commensurability means that different conclusions will be reached regarding a language, country, or region, depending on the source consulted. The fact that many languages are known by alternate names with variant spellings also makes comparison across resources difficult. Some of the problems arising from differing data, terminology and categories can be illustrated by comparing the situation of Indigenous languages in Australia and Canada using Ethnologue’s EGIDS, UNESCO’s LVE and ElCat. The Australian language family is the most endangered in the world, with 94% of languages threatened with extinction or already extinct since 1970, representing the fastest decline in linguistic diversity of any country-continent (Loh and Harmon, 2014). Once the location of considerable linguistic diversity, many of Australia’s Indigenous languages have disappeared since British colonization in the late 18th century largely due to massacre, forced removal and resettlement of their speakers. Assimilationist policies practiced by missions, government and schools further disrupted intergenerational transmission of language and culture. Currently, only 120 languages remain of more than 250 once spoken by around 600 tribes, who inhabited the continent for at least 50,000 years before European contact (Marmion et al., 2014). The 2011 Census lists 60,550 speakers, representing 11.6% of the population identifying as Aboriginal, concentrated primarily in remoter parts of four areas: the Northern Territory, Queensland, Western Australia and South Australia (Biddle, 2012). Only around 15 languages are still strong and spoken by all age groups—five less than 10 years ago (Australian Institute of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Studies and Federation of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Languages, 2005). Generally speaking, both Ethnologue and UNESCO’s atlas agree that most of Australia’s languages are threatened or extinct, but differ in the details and coverage. Neither source uses the most recent census data. According to Ethnologue, which assessed 389 languages (compared to UNESCO’s 108, and ELCat’s 390), only 36 (9%) have EGIDS scores 1–6a and are safe. Forty-five per cent (N = 176) have EGIDS scores 6b-9, indicating various degrees of endangerment, and another 45% (N = 177) are extinct. According to UNESCO’s LVE, 94% (N = 102) of languages are endangered to differing extents, but only 6% (N = 6) are extinct. All but 19 languages are spoken by 1,000 or fewer speakers. Some languages may already be extinct, whereas others like Pitjantjatjara have increased speaker numbers by 30% (from 2,600 in 2006 to 3,394 in 2011). Both UNESCO and ELCat consider Pitjantjatjara as vulnerable, i.e., equivalent to EGIDS 6b, but Ethnologue ranks it as EGIDS 4 based on 2006 census data. Nearly half of Ethnologue’s data (44%) on speaker numbers for Australian endangered languages come from the 2006 census; for some languages the sources cited date from the 1970s. Ethnologue’s EGIDS scores for Canada’s Indigenous languages are not always congruent with assessments based on UNESCO’s atlas and ElCat; nor do they always accord with conclusions reached by others using Canadian census data. The 2011 census recorded over 50
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60 Aboriginal languages belonging to 12 distinct language families, with around 213,400 people reporting that they spoke an Aboriginal language at home. The languages with the largest number of speakers are Cree (83,475), Inuktitut (34,110) and Ojibway (19,275), which together account for almost two-thirds of the population claiming an Aboriginal language as their mother tongue (Statistics Canada, 2012). Census statistics from 1981 to 2001 show that for most languages the proportion of children with an Aboriginal mother tongue is well below Wurm’s (2001: 14) suggested minimum of 30%. Only about 20 languages are at or above this threshold (Norris and Jantzen, 2002; Norris, 2011). Statistics Canada (2012) estimated that only Cree, Ojibway and the Inuit languages have sufficient numbers to continue to be spoken well into the future. Among the 50 or so other Aboriginal languages spoken by 3,000 speakers or fewer, most were spoken at home by between 30% and 60% of the people who reported them as mother tongues. A language can, nevertheless, be viable even if spoken by only a very small population, as long as transmission is intact (Loh and Harmon, 2014: 33). Small languages like Dene (11,860 speakers), Montagnais (10,965 speakers), Micmac (8,030 speakers), Attikamek (5,915 speakers), Dogrib (2,080 speakers) and Naskapi (620 speakers) may also be viable because they tend be spoken in isolated or well-organized communities with strong selfawareness, who regard language as an important identity marker (Norris, 2011: 34). Given the strong association between home language use and likelihood of transmission, children are most likely to acquire Aboriginal mother tongues if they live in Aboriginal communities and in families where both parents have an Aboriginal mother tongue or first language. In fact, Statistics Canada (2012) revealed a higher proportion of Attikamek (91.7%), Naskapi (90.2%) and Montagnais speakers (88.6%) reporting regular home use of their languages than speakers of Inuktitut (79.5%), Cree (55.2%), and Ojibway (37.4%). The average age of those reporting an Aboriginal mother tongue or speaking it as a home language also indicates the extent to which the language is being passed on to the younger generation. Using census data from 1981 to 2001, Norris (2011: 34–36) calculated a continuity index measuring the degree to which a language is transmitted at home by comparing the number of people who speak a language at home to the number who learned that language as their mother tongue. Viable languages like Attikamek, Inuktitut and Dene are characterized by relatively young mother tongue populations (average ages between 25 and 29 years) and corresponding high indexes of continuity (between 79 and 92), whereas endangered languages like Haida, Kutenai and Tlingit have typically older mother tongue populations (average ages between 45 and 60) combined with extremely low continuity indexes of 16 or less. The Ethnologue gives Inuktitut (EGIDS 2) the highest score of any Aboriginal language due to its status as a statutory provincial language in Nunavut and the Northwest Territories. It ranks Attikamek, Cree, Dogrib and Naskapi as EGIDS 5, but regards Ojibway, Montagnais, Micmac and Dene as EGIDS 6b. ElCat, however, with information on 74 languages, ranks Inuktitut, Ojibway, Cree, Dene Attikamek as vulnerable, Dogrib as endangered, and Micmac as threatened based on information sources dating from 2008. UNESCO’s Atlas also ranks Cree, Attikamek, Montagnais, Dene, Naskapi and Dogrib as vulnerable (= EGIDS 6b), but its population numbers come from the 2001 census.
Assessing the Status of Revitalizing Languages Assessing the status of revitalizing languages poses special difficulties because they may be expanding into new domains like education while contracting in others and continuing to 51
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be endangered in the home as the locus for intergenerational transmission shifts to schools. Irish illustrates well the complex dynamics involved in revitalizing languages undergoing significant institutionalization, which is reflected in the differing assessments offered by the Ethnologue (EGIDS 3), UNESCO’s atlas (definitely endangered—in effect equivalent to EGIDS 7), and ElCat (vulnerable). ElCat is the only one of the three resources using the most recent 2011 census, in which 1.77 million people (41.1%) of the total population of 4.5 million reported themselves as able to speak the Irish language, representing a slight proportional decline from 1.6 million (41.9%) in the 2006 census. However, only 1.8% (N = 77,185) of the population over the age of 3 said they spoke Irish daily outside of school, a decline from the 2006 figure of 3.2%. In Gaeltacht areas, legally recognized and protected traditional enclaves of Irish speakers, 35% of the population who actually can speak Irish claimed to speak it daily outside of school (Central Statistics Office, 2012: 40–41). Clearly, most Irish people no longer habitually speak Irish in their everyday lives and have not done so for centuries. Nevertheless, with the establishment of the Irish Free State (later the Republic of Ireland) in 1922, Irish was declared the first official language and English recognized as a second official language; Irish is also one of 24 official languages of the European Union. Before the 17th century when the majority of the population overwhelmingly spoke Irish, it once ranked comfortably within the top hundred world languages in terms of speaker numbers; English was dominant only in a small eastern region around Dublin. By 1851, however, Irish had nearly disappeared from the eastern half of the country and was losing ground among young people everywhere except the far western margins. The great famine from 1845 to 1849 killed around 1 million people and led to mass emigration of another 1.5 million. By 1900 these losses reduced the population by more than half. Census data reveal a continuing fundamental weakness in intergenerational transmission within and without the Gaeltacht despite nearly a century of Irish language policy and planning devoted to revitalization. Increases in the number of people reporting themselves as Irish-speakers in recent censuses are largely the result of school-based reproduction. State policies have not reversed the course of the moving frontier creeping ever westward, and it is arguable whether they have even slowed it. As traditional Irish-speaking communities continue to decline, the number of second-language speakers outside of the Gaeltacht has increased. About three-quarters (N = 59,230) of all daily speakers of Irish outside education live outside the Gaeltacht. Despite these weaknesses, Irish is in a stronger position than most Aboriginal languages in Canada, the United States, Australia and many other countries that cannot draw on official support or rely on institutions like schools to produce new users.
Establishing Priorities for Securing the Future of Linguistic Diversity This chapter has discussed a variety of ways of assessing global linguistic diversity and evaluated the usefulness of EGIDS, LVE and other tools for prioritizing documentation and revitalization efforts. Over the last 500 years, as small languages nearly everywhere have come under intense threat, the fate of most of the world’s linguistic diversity, and by implication its cultural diversity, lies in the hands of a small number of people most vulnerable to pressures of globalization. The crucial role language plays in the acquisition, accumulation, maintenance and transmission of human knowledge means that the prospect of language extinction on such a large scale raises critical issues about the survival of humanity’s rich and diverse intellectual heritage. 52
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With limited resources and much needing to be done quickly to secure the future of numerous languages under threat of extinction, establishing priorities is of critical importance. The high degree of endemism among languages with small numbers of speakers means that the risk to rare and unique languages is greater than the risk to more common ones (Nettle and Romaine, 2000: 62–67). Certain areas of the world, generally those with many stocks, also show a wide diversity of structural language types. Whalen and Simons (2012) identified 50 language families that have disappeared since 1950 and 102 families where intergenerational transmission is reported to be broken in every surviving language within the stock. In biological terms, the death of a language family would be equivalent to losing a whole branch of the animal kingdom. The population expansion of speakers of Eurasian languages has seriously skewed the typological distribution of the world’s languages and our expectations concerning the nature of human language. Object-initial languages, for example, the rarest word order type, were discovered only relatively recently (Derbyshire, 1977), and are found only among small groups. Such languages were once thought not to exist because it was believed they violated a linguistic universal requiring the subject or verb to go first. Compared to Africa, Eurasia and the Americas, we know less about the languages of Melanesia than those of any other region on earth. More than half have only a wordlist or less of published descriptive material, and the Papua-Austronesian region is the region with the largest number of poorly documented languages and the largest proportion of poorly documented languages (Hammarström and Nordhoff, 2012: 26). Half of the world’s least documented language families are found in Papua, the easternmost province of Indonesia. This means that Papua tops the priority list of both endangered and least documented language families (Anderbeck, 2015: 37). The Australian macro-family comprising the large Pama-Nyungan stock covers most of the continent but there are around 27 non-Pama- Nyungan stocks in the far north. Relative to its size, this part of northern Australia is comparable in its family diversity to New Guinea. We urgently need a clearer understanding of the various demographic, sociolinguistic and attitudinal factors leading individuals and communities toward language shift and proactive language policies supporting language diversity. This entails shifting our focus from regarding languages in isolation to considering the ecological niche occupied by language in a community (Romaine, 2010). Much of the professional linguistic literature on language preservation has been concerned with preserving the structures of individual languages in grammars and dictionaries, or has directed its attention to education programs in endangered languages. Although salvage operations aimed at documenting endangered languages are worthwhile and much-needed endeavors, and may be all that can be accomplished for some severely eroded languages, they do not address the root causes of language death and decline. Without further action, they do not contribute substantially to language maintenance efforts and cannot ensure survival in the long term.
Further Reading Austin, P. K. and Sallabank, J. (eds.) (2011), The Cambridge Handbook of Endangered Languages. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Fishman, J. (ed.) (2001), Can Threatened Languages Be Saved? Reversing Language Shift Revisited: A 21st Century Perspective. Clevedon: Multilingual Matters. Harrison, K. D. (2010), The Last Speakers: The Quest to Save the World’s Most Endangered Languages. Washington, DC: National Geographic Books. 53
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References Amano, T., Sandel, B., Eager, H., Bulteau, E., Svenning, J.-C., Dalsgaard, B., Rahbek, C., Davies, R. G. and Sutherland, W. J. (2014), ‘Global distribution and drivers of language extinction risk’, Proceedings of the Royal Society: Biological Sciences, 281: 2014.1574. doi:http://dx.doi.org/10.1098/ rspb.2014.1574. Amery, R. (2001), Warrabarna Kaurna! Reclaiming an Australian language. Lisse: Swets & Zeitlinger. Anderbeck, K. (2015), ‘Portraits of language vitality in the languages of Indonesia’, in I. W. Arka, N. L. Seri Malini, and I. A. M. Puspani (eds.), Language Documentation and Cultural Practices in the Austronesian World: Papers From 12-ICAL. Vol. 4. Canberra: The Australian National University, pp. 19–47. Austin, P. K. and Sallabank, J. (eds.) (2011), The Cambridge Handbook of Endangered Languages. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Australian Institute of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Studies and Federation of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Languages (2005). National Indigenous Languages Survey Report 2005. Canberra: Commonwealth of Australia. Biddle, N. (2012), Indigenous Language Usage. Canberra: Centre for Aboriginal Economic Policy Research. Research School of Social Sciences, Australian National University. The Catalogue of Endangered Languages (ElCat) (n.d.), University of Hawai‘i, www.endangered languages.com/ Central Statistics Office (2012), This Is Ireland—Highlights From Census 2011, Part 1. Dublin: Central Statistics Office. Comrie, B. L. (2008), ‘Linguistic diversity in the Caucasus’, Annual Review of Anthropology, 37: 131–143. Council of Europe (1992), European Charter for Regional or Minority Languages. CETS No. 148. Strasbourg: Council of Europe. Crystal, D. (2000), Language Death. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Crystal, D. (2003), English as a Global Language. 2nd edition. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Currie, T. E. and Mace, R. (2009), ‘Political complexity predicts the spread of ethnolinguistic Groups’, Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, 106: 7339–7344. Derbyshire, D. C. (1977), ‘Word order universals and the existence of OVS languages’, Linguistic Inquiry, 8: 590–599. Fincher, C. L. and Thornhill, R. (2008), ‘A parasite-driven wedge: Infectious disease may explain language and other biodiversity’, Oikos, 17: 1289–1297. Fishman, J. A. (1991), Reversing Language Shift: Theoretical and Empirical Foundations of Assistance to Threatened Languages. Clevedon: Multilingual Matters. Fishman, J. A. (ed.) (2001), Can Threatened Languages Be Saved? Reversing Language Shift Revisited: A 21st Century Perspective. Clevedon: Multilingual Matters. François, A., Franjieh, M., Lacrampe, S. and Schnell, S. (2015), ‘The exceptional linguistic density of Vanuatu’, in A. François, S. Lacrampe, M. Sébastien, M. Franjieh and S. A. Schnell (eds.), The Languages of Vanuatu: Unity and Diversity. Studies in the Languages of Island Melanesia, 5. Canberra: Asia-Pacific Linguistics, pp. 1–21. Gavin, M. C. and Stepp, J. R. (2014), ‘Rapoport’s rule revisited: Geographical distributions of human languages’, PLoS One, 9(9): e107623. doi:10.1371/journal. pone.0107623 Gorenflo L. J., Romaine, S., Mittermeier, R. A. and Walker-Painemilla, K. (2012), ‘Co-occurrence of linguistic and biological diversity in biodiversity hotspots and high biodiversity wilderness areas’, Proceedings of the National Academy of Science, 109: 8032–8037. Gorenflo, L. J., Romaine, S., Musinsky, S., Denil, M. and Mittermeier, R. A. (2014), Linguistic Diversity in High Biodiversity Regions. Arlington, VA: Conservation International. Greenberg, J. H. (1956), ‘The measurement of linguistic diversity’, Language, 32(1): 109–115.
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Hammarström, H. (2015), ‘Ethnologue 16/17/18th editions: A comprehensive review’, Language, 91(3): 723–737. Hammarström, H., Forkel, R., Haspelmath, M. and Bank, S. (2015), Glottolog 2.6. Jena: Max Planck Institute for the Science of Human History. http://glottolog.org. Hammarström, H. and Nordhoff, S. (2012), ‘The languages of Melanesia: Quantifying the level of coverage’, in N. Evans and M. Klamer (eds.), Melanesian Languages on the Edge of Asia: Challenges for the 21st Century: Language Documentation and Conservation Special Publication. Vol. 5, pp. 13–33. Harrison, K. D. (2010), The Last Speakers: The Quest to Save the World’s Most Endangered Languages. Washington, DC: National Geographic Books. Krauss, M. E. (1992), ‘The world’s languages in crisis’, Language, 68(1): 4–10. Lewis, M. P. (2014), ‘A profile of danger and development of the languages of Europe’, in J. Laakso (ed.), Dangers and Developments: On Language Diversity in a Changing World. Studies in European Language Diversity 34, pp. 9–24. Lewis, M. P. and Simons, G. F. (2010), ‘Assessing endangerment: Expanding Fishman’s GIDS’, Romanian Review of Linguistics, 55: 103–120. Lewis, M. P., Simons, G. F. and Fennig, C. D. (2015), Ethnologue: Languages of the World. 18th edition. Dallas, TX: SIL International, www.ethnologue.com Loh, J. and Harmon, D. (2014), Biocultural Diversity: Threatened Species, Endangered Languages. Zeist, The Netherlands: WWF Netherlands. Mace, R. and Pagel, M. (1995), ‘A latitudinal gradient in the density of human languages in NorthAmerica’, Proceedings of the Royal Society London B, 261: 117–121. Marmion, D., Obata, K. and Troy, J. (2014), Community, Identity, Wellbeing: The Report of the Second National Indigenous Languages Survey. Canberra: Australian Institute of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Studies. Moseley, C. (ed.) (2010), Atlas of the World’s Languages in Danger. 3rd edition. Paris: UNESCO. Nettle, D. and Romaine, S. (2000), Vanishing Voices: The Extinction of the World’s Languages. New York: Oxford University Press. Norris, M. J. (2011), ‘Aboriginal languages in urban Canada: A decade in review, 1996 to 2006’, Aboriginal Policy Studies, 1(2): 4–67. Norris, M. J. and Jantzen, L. (2002), From Generation to Generation: Survival and Maintenance of Canada’s Aboriginal Languages Within Families, Communities and Cities. Ottawa: Indian and Northern Affairs, Canadian Heritage, Government of Canada. Ravindranath, M. and Cohn, A. C. (2014), ‘Can a language with millions of speakers be endangered?’, Journal of the Southeast Asian Linguistics Society, 7: 64–75. Romaine, S. (2010), ‘Language and ecology’, in P. Binder and K. Smith (eds.), The Language Phenomenon. New York: Springer, pp. 217–234. Simons, G. and Lewis, M. P. (2013), ‘The world’s languages in crisis: A 20-year update’, in E. Mihas, B. Perley, G. Rei-Doval and K. Wheatley (eds.), Responses to Language Endangerment: In Honor of Mickey Noonan. Amsterdam: John Benjamins, pp. 3–19. Statistics Canada (2012), Aboriginal Languages in Canada: Language, 2011 Census of Population. Ottawa: Minister of Industry. Sutherland, W. (2003), ‘Parallel extinction risk and global distribution of languages and species’, Nature, 423: 276–277. UNESCO Ad Hoc Expert Group on Endangered Languages (2003), Language Vitality and Endangerment. Paris: UNESCO. Whalen, D. H. and Simons, G. F. (2012), ‘Endangered language families’, Language, 88(1): 155–173. Wolfram, W. and Schilling-Estes, N. (1998), ‘Endangered dialects: A neglected situation in the endangerment canon’, Southwest Journal of Linguistics, 14: 117–131. Wurm, S. A. (ed.) (2001), Atlas of the World’s Languages in Danger of Disappearing. 2nd edition. Paris: UNESCO.
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4 The Economy of Language Ecology1 Economic Aspects of Minority Languages Alwin F. Fill
Bilingualism is a widespread phenomenon, yet its economic effects are under-researched. (Henley and Jones, 2003: abstract)
Introduction: Language as an Economic Factor Language is part of the cultural capital of individuals and societies (cf. Bourdieu, 1991). But language is also an economic factor of extremely high significance. This became poignantly clear when in 2005 the so-called Grin Report was published. In this report, François Grin (2005: 94) states that the United Kingdom, merely from possessing the dominant language in Europe, gains more than 10 billion euros per year from a number of sources, among them the following: • • • • •
The sale of books and other goods relating to the English language The translation of books, etc., into English An estimated 700,000 people go to Britain each year to learn and improve their English A great number of people from Britain have jobs outside of England because of their native knowledge of English; these jobs include the teaching of English The absence of a need to teach foreign languages saves the British school system money
In connection with this, the idea of a language tax was put forward by Grin and Van Parijs. In their view, such a language tax is now being paid by non-native English countries; if justice prevailed, the UK would have to pay such a tax from the profits it gains as shown earlier. Van Parijs writes: Most straightforward would be to charge a global tax to the native English community and leave it to allocate this tax among its members, while distributing the proceeds among other linguistic communities so as to equalize all rations of benefit to cost. (Van Parijs, 2007: 78). 56
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In an article from 2011, Van Parijs adds that because of the dominance of English, the brain flow into Anglophone countries is immense: he mentions an estimate that three of those countries (the US, Canada and Australia), totaling hardly more than 5% of the world population, house nearly 75% of the world’s ‘expatriate brains,’ defined as those graduates of higher education who are not currently domiciled in their country of birth. (2011: 194–195) In the present chapter, however, it is not the economic aspects of English which will be the main topic, but the economy of ‘small’ and endangered languages. According to Hughes (2007), language can be seen as an “economic currency,” particularly for cross-border workers. The focus of this chapter will thus be on minority languages as an ‘economic currency.’ The main question to be discussed is: in what way are minority languages an economic advantage or disadvantage to countries and to individual speakers?
Languages as an ‘Ecosystem’ Following the Haugenian school of ecolinguistics, the mutual relation between animals, plants and their environment can be transferred directly to languages. In the same way as there are large animals and small animals (and some animal species may be a danger to others), we see that in a certain area there are ‘large’ languages, i.e., languages spoken by many people (the majority), and ‘small’ languages spoken by minorities. The relation between these languages is like an ‘ecosystem,’ an unstable equilibrium in which one language can become dominant, and the others, the minority languages, can be negatively affected by this. This may be the case on the level of economy, but may also be a question of their continued existence. As Tove Skutnabb-Kangas and others have shown, there are parallel developments concerning species and languages: both are diminishing in number, and interestingly at almost the same rate (Skutnabb-Kangas and Harmon, Chapter 1, this volume). The number of species is now being estimated at between 5 and 15 million (Skutnabb-Kangas quoting Harmon, 2002: 63), and the number of languages is about 6000, but their fate is the same: “Language endangerment is significantly comparable to—and related to—endangerment of biological species in the natural world” (Krauss, 1992: 4). The threats to both realms of diversity can be linked—as done by Krauss in 1992. He quotes biologists (e.g., Jared Diamond) who think that about 50% of the species are doomed to disappear by the end of the 21st century (1992: 7, Fn. 8). The fate of the world’s languages is about the same: However, two other linguists with wide experience have both independently guessed, along with me, that the total [of moribund languages] may be more like 50%, or at least the number of languages which, at the rate things are going, will become extinct during the coming century is 3,000 of 6,000. (Krauss, 1992: 6) More recent estimates (discussed by Skutnabb-Kangas) are less pessimistic: the number of languages spoken and the number of species in existence have fallen by 30% over the last 40 years. On the whole, 25% of the world’s oral languages are threatened with extinction, and between 20% and 30% of species (amphibians, mammals, reptiles, etc.) are about to disappear (again roughly the same percentage!). 57
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This chapter will be about language endangerment chiefly in Europe, with the main emphasis being on economic aspects concerning the salvation of its small languages. (See also Table 3.2 in Romaine, this volume.)
Historical Aspects: Defending Language Diversity Arguments for maintaining language diversity have so far mostly been of an ideological or epistemic nature. The maintenance of small languages has been defended, for instance, by arguing that each language represents a view of the world so that the disappearance of a language is tantamount to the disappearance of a worldview and the loss of irretrievable knowledge about certain ontological areas. In all studies by linguists it is tacitly assumed that language diversity is ‘a good thing’ and should be maintained by all means. Among the reasons given for this are the following: • •
• •
Each language contains a ‘construction of reality’ which disappears with the extinction of the language. Each language is also “a unique and threatened specimen of human linguistic evolution and tradition” (Denison 2001: 77). Each language stores knowledge which should not get lost (see Mühlhäusler, 2003: 151–157 about “the lexicon of ‘other languages,’ ” and Nettle and Romaine, 2000: 56 ff. concerning the encyclopedic knowledge of people in Tahiti and Hawaii about fish). Languages are ‘classifier systems’ which “allow us to examine how human experience is meaningfully categorized and culturally structured” (Nettle and Romaine, 2000: 62). Languages serve to identify speakers. As Laycock (2001: 169) writes about Melanesia: It has more than once been said to me around the Sepic that ‘it wouldn’t be any good if we all talked the same; we like to know where people come from.’ In other words, linguistic diversity, of however minor a kind, is perpetuated as a badge of identification.
The question of whether language diversity is an economic advantage or a liability for a country (and for its inhabitants) is rarely addressed. This topic will be dealt with in the next few sections of this chapter.
Economic Aspects of Language Diversity All reasons adduced for the maintenance of small languages are fine and commendable, but there is always the economic factor which seems to work against language diversity. Shifts to dominant languages have economic causes, as Nettle and Romaine (2000: 127) show concerning an area in Papua-New Guinea: What was changing was something much less concrete and less easily observable, but equally powerful. People had come to associate Tok Pisin with the economic possibilities of the modern world, which seemed to them fantastically attractive. By shifting their language, they were attempting to gain symbolic association with, and entry into, the sphere of the developed economy, much in the same way that young women in Oberwart, Austria, chose German over Hungarian because they perceived the former to be of greater economic value.
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This development is taking place on a worldwide scale. Henry Widdowson (personal communication) tells the following story which also illustrates this problem: A linguist goes to an African village in order to document the language spoken there. He hears a father speaking English with his children. The linguist: “Use your own language, man, your language is dying!” The father: “That’s your problem, not mine.” The gap between the interests of the linguist (maintenance of the language) and those of the Indigenous population (career chances for their offspring) could not be better illustrated. In the last 20 years, researchers have looked more closely at the economic aspects of small languages, and they have come up with data which are somewhat surprising and more encouraging than this story might suggest. Maintaining language diversity may on the one hand be costly to a country (the need for translation and interpreting, for school teaching and media diversity); but on the other hand, it may have beneficial economic consequences such as the creation of jobs (in various areas to be shown later), the sustenance of small businesses and the prevention of migration to large centers. This chapter offers a systematization of these economic aspects of language diversity and societal multilingualism. In this context, a development towards more selfconfidence of minority speakers can be observed and will be discussed in the next section. Some studies of the economic value of possessing language skills have focused on immigrants and their linguistic assimilation (see, for instance, the articles in Breton, 1998, for Canada). In this chapter, however, I will concentrate on Europe, where the situation of languages seems a bit brighter than in the rest of the world.
Critical Issues and Topics: Dealing with Minorities in Europe In June, 2016, an interesting football tournament took place in South Tyrol (Grödnertal and Gadertal = val Badia, a side valley of the Pustertal): the third Europeada, i.e., the football championship of the representatives of linguistic and ethnic minorities in Europe. The idea of uniting linguistic and ethnic minorities with the help of a football tournament was born in 2008, when the Europeada took place for the first time, in Chur (Switzerland, where RhaetoRomance is spoken)—at the same time as the regular European football championship. In 2012, the Europeada was held in Oberlausitz, where the Sorbians are a minority in Germany. The South Tyrol tournament of 2016 again took place in the same year as the regular European football championship. For the first time, teams of women took part in the tournament. This tournament highlights a development which has been observed in Europe in recent years: although the number of languages worldwide is decreasing—as we have seen, at about the same rate as the world’s species—in Europe, efforts to combat this development are being made. Minorities are operating in combination with one another and try to establish a feeling of identity, togetherness and pride in their cultures and languages. In addition, the economic consequences of belonging to a minority are increasingly being considered.
Kin State Before discussing this topic in more detail, one point concerning terminology has to be made: we distinguish between language minorities with a ‘kin state’ and those without it. German, for example, is a minority language in ‘host-states’ such as Belgium, Italy,
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Romania and Denmark, but it has a kin state, Germany, so there is no danger of it dying out. In Europe, there are about 40 million speakers of minority languages with a kin state (see also Wheatley, 2007: 16 and 31f., and Grin, 2016: 619). In contrast to these, languages without a kin state (euphemistically called LWULs, i.e., less widely used languages) are much more endangered. The number of these small languages, as given in different sources, varies greatly. Salminen (1999) names 26 seriously endangered and 38 endangered languages. The following twenty languages are perhaps the ‘most famous’ LWULs in Europe: Alsatian—Aragonese—Asturian—Basque—Breton—Catalan—Corsican—Frisian— Friulian—Irish Gaelic—Scottish Gaelic—Galician—Ladin—Occitan (langue d’oc)— Romauntsch—Sami—Sardic—Sorbian—Welsh—Yiddish Several of these are in acute danger of dying (or rather of ‘becoming extinct’). In Great Britain, to give an example, this has happened to the following: Cornish in Cornwall. The last native speaker of this language is said to have died in 1777. Manx on the Isle of Man, whose last native speaker (his name was Ned Maddrell) died in 1974. However, attempts at reviving both these languages are being made (see Lewin, 2015 and Broderick, 2015; see also the work by Fishman, 2001). Hornberger (2002: 373, note 1) writes about this issue: “Language revitalization thus becomes the third in the trinity of logical alternatives for minority language use and change in situations of language contact— language shift and maintenance being the other two.”
Organizations Representing Minority Languages In Europe, there are quite a few organizations which represent minority languages and LWULs. In particular, the following should be mentioned: • • • •
•
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NPLD (Network to Promote Linguistic Diversity), launched on June 11, 2008, in Brussels by the European Commission. Another organization, called EBLUL (European Bureau for Lesser Used Languages) was founded in 1982, but disbanded in 2010! FUEN (Federative Union of European Nationalities), founded in 1949. This is the organization which organizes the earlier-mentioned football tournament for minority groups. YEN (Youth of European Nationalities), founded in 1984. The president of YEN is currently (2017) a representative of the Carinthian Slovenes (in Austria), the vice-president a Sorbian from Lausitz. They call themselves “a dynamic and active network of youth organizations in a multicultural and multilingual Europe, representing their interests” (homepage). ECMI (European Centre for Minority Issues), founded in 1996 and housed in a historic building in the center of Flensburg. Its purpose is action, research, and documentation. However, the officials of this organization (president, vice-presidents) nearly all represent languages with a kin state. Thus the long-term President Hans Heinrich Hansen is a representative of the German minority in Denmark, and Vice-President Martha Stocker represents the German minority in South Tyrol (Italy).
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In addition to these European organizations, there are numerous smaller associations which represent the individual ethnicities and their languages, e.g., Bund deutscher Nordschleswiger, Elsaß-Lothringischer Volksbund, The Macedonian minority in Greece and many others.
Language Minorities: Costs and Benefits This section now addresses the main topic of this chapter, viz. the economic aspects of language minorities, and the costs and benefits pertaining to them on several levels. The terms ‘cost’ and ‘benefit’ are mostly understood from the economic perspective. However, it must be made clear that ‘benefit’ does not necessarily mean financial benefit only. It may also mean “effective communication” (Gazzola and Grin, 2007: 101) or cultural reputation or becoming known as a linguistically interesting country—a fact which again may have financial consequences (cf. Mühlhäusler and Damania, 2004). Grin and Vaillancourt (1997: 43) assume “that benefits and costs both rise along with the extent of multilingualism.” Having two languages in a community instead of one language will make the benefits rise so that they exceed costs. Having 11 languages instead of 10, however, will make the costs rise to such an extent that this by far outweighs the increase in benefits. “In other words, there is good reason to suppose that the net value associated with different degrees of multilingualism first increases, reaches a maximum and then decreases” (Grin and Vaillancourt, 1997). The optimum may be in the region of two to five languages, depending on the size of the country. According to Grin and Vaillancourt (1997: 43), it is assumed in some states that “the costs of multilingualism always exceed its benefits. In other words, the optimal degree of multilingualism is zero, a case better known as unilingualism.” On the other hand, linguists and multiculturalists (for whom multilingualism is ‘a resource’) “appear to assume that language rights should always be granted, irrespective of the number of claimants and the costs implied. This amounts to an assumption that benefits always exceed costs, and that the optimal degree of multilingualism tends to infinity” (Grin and Vaillancourt, 1997). Grin (2016: 642) contends that the “costs of minority language maintenance [. . .] have been investigated in a few, mostly European, cases, and these costs turn out to be much lower than appears to be commonly believed.” In 2015, Michele Gazzola, François Grin and Bengt-Arne Wickström brought out a Concise Bibliography of Language Economics, in which more than 500 publications about the economic aspects of languages are listed according to different topic areas (e.g. ‘influence of linguistic variables on economic variables,’ ‘language and nationalism,’ etc.). This bibliography shows that all topic areas concerning language economics are being researched at present, with perhaps a certain emphasis on the value of diversity and on the role of English. One group active in this research is based at the Humboldt-University in Berlin (Research in Economics and Language, REAL), with B.-A. Wickström, M. Gazzola and T. Templin as members. Among other activities, the group organized the conferences “The Economics of Language Policy” in 2013 and “Economics, Linguistic Justice and Language Policy” in 2015. What we see from this survey of research going on at present is that the economy of language ecology is being looked at from a number of different viewpoints and with a great number of different foci. In view of this, the next section of this chapter aims at establishing a systematic framework of what should be investigated and in what areas data should be collected. 61
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Recommendations for Research: Costs, Benefits and Discrimination Effects as Economic Parameters The following is an attempt at systematizing the investigation of the costs and benefits concerning both minority languages in general and less widely used languages in particular, and at indicating areas where more research is needed. To the costs and benefits I would like to add a third factor, viz. discrimination effects. These come into play for instance when employers think that speakers of minority languages are less mobile than monolinguals and thus discriminate against them. On the other hand, there may be positive effects (perhaps to be called ‘procrimination effects’) in so far as bilingual speakers may belong to networks closed to monolinguals (cf. Henley and Jones, 2003). The system presented here distinguishes between three levels: (1) The individual level (the level of the individual speaker) (2) The community level (the area in which the small language is spoken) (3) The state and global level, at which the costs and benefits of language possession and multilingualism are negotiated on a continental and even global scale2
Individual Level On this level, the costs, the discrimination effects and the benefits are distributed in the following way:
Costs: Incurred in some cases for tuition and perfection in the ‘smaller’ language.
Benefits: (1) Noneconomic benefits: cognition, additional worldview, recognition (2) Earnings: additional earnings from being able to use the minority language (the socalled language premium—discussed later) (3) Employment: enhanced possibility of obtaining a job Concerning (2) and (3), the following factors have to be considered: In most countries, bilingual speakers have: (a) A higher level of education (b) Better qualification and motivation for their job (c) A lower frequency of illness (!) This shows that it is not simply being bilingual which may have advantages! The benefits accrued from the earlier-mentioned factors have to be deducted to find the genuine language premium (discussed later). Possible discrimination effects: Concerning this, Henley and Jones (2003: 19) write of “an earnings discrimination effect arising from employers taking advantage of the relative immobility of bilingual workers, due to the value of living where the minority language can 62
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be spoken.” Whether such an effect arises very much depends on the kind of job that the worker has. ‘Procrimination effects’: networks to which minority speakers may belong.
Community Level (1) Businesses:
Costs: Incurred in some cases for tuition and perfection in the minority or less widely used language Benefits (for the businesses): • • • • • •
Demand for minority language speakers Improving the quality of customer service Attracting new customers Increasing customer loyalty Harnessing goodwill at relatively low cost Enhancing public relations efforts (cf. Henley and Jones, 2003) (2) Radio and TV programs Costs of establishing and maintaining them; paying employees Benefits: jobs for bilinguals (3) Newspapers and magazines Costs of establishing and maintaining them; paying employees Benefits: jobs for bilinguals (4) School teaching Costs: additional teachers, teaching materials, etc. Benefits: jobs for teachers; job opportunities for learners; higher payment for learners (5) Translation (financially the least important factor) Costs: translators, interpreters Benefits: jobs for bilingual speakers (translation into and from the minority language) (6) Migration Costs: travel allowances Benefits for speakers of a language with a kin state: the possibility of obtaining a job in the ‘kin state,’ i.e., a neighboring country in which the minority language is the majority language
State and Global Level On this level, the costs and benefits are most difficult to calculate, since there are many circumstances (such as economic developments at all levels) which are difficult to assess and 63
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which may change from year to year. The following is therefore just a tentative list of the costs and benefits to be calculated: (1) Relation between the number of languages and the GNP of a state. (2) Number of languages and per capita income. Coulmas (1992: 25) writes the following about this topic: “the contention that language is an asset must not be taken to mean that a multiplicity of languages is conducive to social wealth. Rather, the inverse connection seems to suggest itself and has, indeed, been interpreted as a causal rather than merely an accidental correlation.” Coulmas’ Table 2.1 (1992: 24), which lists the number of languages and the per capita income of 18 countries, seems to confirm this. However, in many countries this correlation has other causes. Papua New Guinea has 849 languages and a very low per capita income, whereas Iceland has only one language but a high individual income—a difference which can hardly be ascribed to the language situation. (3) Reputation of a country concerning research in more than one language. (4) Possible influence of the existence of endangered languages on tourism and vice versa (see Mühlhäusler and Damania, 2004, about Australia). Greathouse-Amador (2005) investigated the effect of (eco-)tourism on the preservation of Indigenous languages in Mexico. She writes about the township of Cuetzalan: “It appears that tourism may very well be supporting the preservation and maintenance of the Indigenous language found here” (2005: 50). Many tourists show an interest in the Indigenous languages spoken there, so that this interest “has greatly motived and encouraged the Indigenous population to unite to rescue and revitalize their native tongue” (2005: 57). The role of tourism in preserving minority languages is definitely a topic which deserves the attention of ecolinguistic researchers. Jonathan Wheatley’s (2007) method of assessing the value of minorities at the state level involved finding out the GDP per capita and the unemployment figures of members of ethnic minorities. He found that some minorities do better than the majority population, while others worse—it depends on the individual situation in each country. There seems to be little evidence that the so-called “regional minorities” perform badly economically: in three cases (the Aaland islands, Catalunya and the Basque country), regions associated with a (sub-)national identity perform better than the rest of the country, in two cases (Galicia and Wales) they perform worse and, in one case (Scotland), economic development is similar to that in the rest of the country. (Wheatley, 2007: 4) However, as stated earlier, people who maintain their bilingualism are more versatile and ambitious and therefore have economic advantages—in other words, cause and effect may be reversed!
Applying the System in Practice In order to obtain data concerning the earlier parameters, the author wrote to 40 organizations which represent individual minorities in Europe (mostly members of FUEN). The questionnaire sent out mainly contained questions concerning level 2 of the system, e.g., costs and benefits from radio and TV programs, school teaching and translation. Answers were received from only five organizations, among them the Macedonian minority in Greece 64
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and the European Centre for Minority Issues (ICMI, Flensburg). In addition, through personal contacts,3 the author obtained materials concerning Irish Gaelic, Welsh, Ostfriesisch and Catalan. All these data were of differing quality and certainly need verification. They will therefore be published in a different context. What will be presented here are a few relevant figures concerning Catalan and Welsh, mostly obtained from Rendon (2007) and Wheatley (2007) concerning Catalan, and from Henley and Jones (2003) and Blackaby et al. (n.d.) concerning Welsh. Reliable figures concerning the other minorities and LWULs still have to be researched.
Catalan vs. Castilian (Spain) Those who can find resources in the Spanish language to express their Catalan habitus could be said to possess a high degree of linguistic capital. (Vann, 1999: 75)
Spain has several LWULs (e.g., Basque and Asturian) which could be studied from the point of view of their economic position (see Chapter 2, this volume). The most important language minority, however, is Catalan, which is spoken in a large area in the East of the country (around Barcelona) and on the Balearic islands (Mallorca, Ibiza, etc.). The attempts of Catalonia to become independent are well-known and have a long history. At the time of writing this (2016), Catalonia is still part of Spain, and consequently Catalan is a language without a kin state. More than 5 million people in Catalonia can speak it.
Individual Level Most studies report a significant positive language premium for Catalan/Spanish speakers in Catalonia. Silvio Rendon (2007) measured the influence of knowing Catalan on finding a job in Catalonia. He found that in the 1980s “a drastic language policy change (called normalització) promoted the learning and use of Catalan and managed to reverse the falling trend of its relative use versus Castilian (Spanish), thereby recovering its economic value.” (2007: abstract). The ‘Catalan premium’ reported by Rendon is as follows: [T]he probability of being employed increases by 3% for men and 4–6% for women if individuals know how to read and speak Catalan; it increases by 2% for men and 5–6% for women for writing Catalan. (2007: 680) The reason for the premium being higher for women than for men lies in the different professional areas in which women and men typically work. (The same effect concerning women and men was observed in Switzerland by Grin.). Women are also more likely to know Catalan than men (ca. 59% vs. 46%) (Rendon, 2007: 678). Rendon obtained his results from looking at the figures of 250,000 randomly selected individuals.
Community Level According to Wheatley (2007: 3, Table 1), Basques and Catalans in Spain are better off than the Spanish majority by a comparatively large margin: their GDP is 120% when compared with Spain in general, and their unemployment rate is 9.7% compared to an 11% average in 65
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Spain. Interestingly, these figures are nearly the same for the Catalan and the Basque minority, whereas the Galician minority is disadvantaged (80% GDP, 13.6% unemployed). Of course, these figures have to be taken with caution, because the economic situation in Spain has undergone several changes in the last few years. In Catalonia, an interesting question would be the impact of tourism on the preservation of Catalan. Tourists certainly take an interest in the Catalan culture, including its language, and this could be a factor responsible for preserving it and having a positive economic effect on Catalonia.
Welsh vs. English The situation concerning the economic effects of Welsh has changed dramatically in the last 150 years. In 1847, a government commission concluded that “the Welsh language is a vast drawback and a manifold barrier to the commercial progress of the people. It is not easy to overestimate its evil effects [. . .]” (quoted From Henley and Jones, 2003: 305). At that time, this may have been true. Today, all speakers of Welsh are bilingual. Thus, the ‘barrier’ has developed into an asset. A study carried out in 2005 found that “nearly one in 10 businesses in Wales have a demand for Welsh-speaking employees.” The sector with the highest demand is the media sector (18%), while the one with the lowest demand is the retail sector (5%) (Future Skills Wales Survey, 2005).
Individual Level Costs: No costs involved.
Benefits: Blackaby et al. (n.d.) found that both men and women are significantly more likely to be employed if they know Welsh. However, the factors mentioned earlier come into play: those who know Welsh are also those with better education, better qualification for their job and, a little surprisingly, a lower incidence of illness! Henley and Jones (2003) even conclude that bilingual skills may not be intrinsically rewarded, but rather reflect other immeasurable human capital characteristics associated with bilingualism. As far as the earnings of individuals are concerned, Henley and Jones (2003: 317) summarize their findings concerning Wales as follows: Our data point to a raw earnings differential of 8–10 per cent in favour of bilinguals. However, this differential is substantially smaller for those who report the use of Welsh in the work place compared to those whose workplace is monolingual. [. . .] Nevertheless, we conclude that bilinguals fare better in the Welsh labour market. Of these percentage points, however, only 3.2% are due to the individuals’ knowledge of Welsh; the rest is due to the factors mentioned earlier (better education, etc.).
Community Level Generally, the Welsh are worse off than people in the UK in general. In Wheatley’s Table 1 (2007: 3) their GDP per capita is only 78% when compared with the UK in general. 66
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However, attributing this only to the language would certainly be too crude, because other factors come into play, particularly the closure of mines. It also has to be considered that all these figures may be somewhat out of date, because they were collected before the financial crisis that began in 2008.
Costs: A sum of £13 million is spent by the Welsh government each year to promote the Welsh language. This money goes into a number of projects, e.g., TWF—Teaching Welsh to Families (twf is also a Welsh word for ‘growth’). The idea behind TWF is to make parents speak Welsh to their children, so that they have “two languages from the cradle.” A sum of £1.2 million goes into teaching Welsh in nursery schools (Elin Wyn, personal communication). £74.4 million is the annual grant for the Welsh channel S4C from the UK Department for Culture, Media and Sport (CMS) (BBC). For a long time, the channel S4C (siannel for Cymru) broadcast 15 hours of programs in Welsh per day. Since March 2010, S4C has broadcast solely in the Welsh language.
Benefits: S4C broadcasting exclusively in Welsh has created several hundred jobs for bilingual (Welsh-English) speakers. The figures in Table 4.1 below (from Future Skills Wales Survey, 2005: 1) show the percentages of employees with Welsh/English skills needed by different employment sectors.
Summary of Examples To summarize the discussion of these examples, we see that in both cases (Catalan and Welsh), the existence of the minority language is an advantage both on the individual and on the community level. Of course, we have to consider the factors mentioned before: bilingual speakers have better education, more ambition and, as we saw, a lower incidence of illness. However, concerning the latter two factors, the cause and effect situation is by no means clear: is bilingualism the cause of having more ambition and better health, or is it the other way round, viz. that ambition and good health are the causes of people staying or becoming bilingual? This question was also addressed by some researchers who investigated the consequences of speaking Irish Gaelic in Ireland. Borooah et al. (2009: 436) find that Irish speakers in Table 4.1 Welsh/English skills needed in different employment sectors Employment Sector
Companies questioned
Bilingual skills
%
Manufacturing Service Retail Tourism Total
177 381 183 99 840
74 260 114 60 508
42 68 62 61 60
Base: 840 companies in Carmarthenshire, Pembrokeshire, Ceredigion, Powys, Gwynedd, Anglesey and Rhondda Cynon Taff. Source: Gorwelion project
67
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Ireland “have considerable advantage in the labour market,” an advantage “that remains after accounting for relevant employment related factors like educational qualifications— that Irish speaking workers enjoy over workers who are not able to speak Irish” [italics in the original]. Watson and Nic Ghiolla Phádraig (2011: 437) even write that it is more fruitful “not to approach [this] as a question of Irish speakers having an advantage, but, rather, to approach it from a different direction and see it as a question of people with an advantage being more likely to speak Irish.” In spite of these reservations, the research presented here has shown that Catalan and Welsh are positive examples of ‘the economy of language ecology.’ Clearly, a positive effect of having the minority language at one’s disposal is possible, although many other ‘small’ languages (particularly in other parts of the world) have no effects of this kind.
Future Prospects of Less Widely Used Languages in and Outside of Europe Latin America: “monolingual indigenous and bilingual workers are disadvantaged relative to monolingual Spanish speakers.” (Henley and Jones, 2003: 302)
This chapter focuses very much on Europe and disregards minority languages in other parts of the world. One reason for this is that the economics of ‘small’ languages in Europe are much better researched than those concerning languages on other continents. For example, the articles in a book entitled Endangered Languages (Austin and Simpson, 2007) discuss a great number of endangered languages all over the world—among them the following: Australian Aboriginal languages Urarina (Peru, 3000 speakers) Leggbó (Upper Cross language spoken in Nigeria) Mayan languages (Guatemala) Garifuna (also called Black Carib, Central America) Archi (Daghestan) Jalonke (Guinea, West Africa) Kinnauri (Tibeto-Burman language) Cusco-Quechua (Peru)4 Northern Wakashan (Amerindian language, Pacific Northwest) However, the focus of the articles is mostly on features of syntax, morphology and sound systems. Economic aspects are hardly mentioned at all. It is to be hoped that these aspects will be considered in future research. The following general remarks apply to both biology and languages: when biological degradation through humans reached a stage which was dangerous for the human species itself, ecological and environmental movements arose as counter-forces—perhaps just in time to prevent total disaster. The same self-saving forces may be at work concerning language diversity. If the emergence of language and the development of language diversity was an evolutionary process which took place for the good of the human species, it can be assumed that the same evolutionary forces will be active to save a certain degree of language diversity. 68
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Indeed, the loss of languages is already being counteracted by forces which on the surface are rooted in ideologies and moral argumentation, but which are ultimately based either on hard economic figures or on demographic facts and developments; among these, particularly the fact that all speakers of less widely used languages in Europe are now bilingual and have perfect command of a ‘larger’ language should be mentioned. As a result, speaking the small language is now an additional asset for work conditions. Besides, it makes those speakers special, and young people are beginning to develop a certain pride in being bilingual and in sharing bilingualism with other young people, as the following examples may show: 1. A meeting of YEN (Young European Nationalities, see earlier) in Burgenland/Austria in September 2008 was held under the motto: “You are not alone”—a motto which turns shared negative discrimination into shared positive discrimination. In 2015, a meeting was held in Tulcea (Romania) under the motto: “Awakening the Identity.” The YEN homepage of 2016 promotes a new slogan, together with the following aims: The main aim of YEN is the preservation and development of the culture, language, identity and rights of the autochthonous, national minorities. Under its slogan “Living Diversity—Vielfalt leben,” YEN works for the preservation of the linguistic and cultural diversity of Europe and for participation in a European civil society, which is founded on values such as tolerance and equality, diversity and multilingualism, as well as on nondiscrimination. (www.rml2future.eu/partners/p_jev_en.html) 2. The Europeada football tournament mentioned at the beginning of this chapter is another manifestation of this development. 3. A third manifestation is that certain cultural competitions (such as song contests) in lesser used languages have come into existence in recent years. 4. Since October 2015, FUEN (see earlier) has been represented in Brussels with an office in the building of the ‘Hanse-Office.’ What is now developing is a kind of ‘ecological interaction’ between the representatives of minority languages, an interrelation and Wechselwirkung which, I hope, will become a fruitful one. Haugen, the originator of ‘the ecology of languages,’ writes (2001: 60): Ecology suggests a dynamic rather than a static science, something beyond the descriptive that one might even call predictive and even therapeutic. What will be, or could be, for example the role of “small” languages; and how can they or any other language be made ”better,” “richer” or “more fruitful” for mankind? A possible answer to Haugen’s question is contained in a speech that Hester Knol, then president of Young European Nationalities, gave at the FUEN congress in Hungary (May 2008), in which she suggested using minority languages as much as possible on social media (e.g., Facebook and YouTube). The future of European language minorities does not lie in folklore, but in the new media and the new spirit of cooperation and ecological interrelation. New ideas are needed to further this development. Nongovernmental organizations (NGOs) such as TERRALINGUA (founded in 1996 by Luisa Maffi and David Harmon), which advocate biocultural diversity, 69
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should be supported by national and international institutions. For the challenges posed by this see the articles in Cenoz and Gorter (2008).
Further Reading Ammon, U., Mattheier, K. J. and Nelde, P. H. (eds.) (1997), Einsprachigkeit ist heilbar. Monolingualism is curable. Le monolinguisme est curable. Sociolinguistica 11. Tübingen: Max Niemeyer Verlag. Denison, N. (2001), ‘A linguistic ecology for Europe?’ in A. Fill and P. Mühlhäusler (eds.), The Ecolinguistics Reader. London: Continuum, pp. 75–83. Gazzola, M. and Grin, F. (2007), ‘Assessing efficiency and fairness in multilingual communication: Towards a general analytical framework’, AILA Review, 20: 87–105. Ginsburgh, V. and Weber, S. (eds.) (2016), The Palgrave Handbook of Economics and Language. Houndsmills, Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan. Grin, F. (1999), ‘Economics,’ in J. A. Fishman (ed.), Handbook of Language and Ethnic Identity. New York, Oxford: Oxford University Press, pp. 9–24. Roider, F. M. (2014), Sprachenvielfalt und Sprachensterben aus ökolinguistischer Sicht. Zur Bedeutung von Mehrsprachigkeit, Übersetzen und Dolmetschen in einer globalisierten Welt. Innsbruck: Innsbrucker Beiträge zur Kulturwissenschaft (ed. W. Meid).
Notes 1 Parts of this chapter are based on a talk given by the author at the AILA Conference in Essen, Germany, in 2008. 2 This work is based on research by the following scholars: François Grin, François Vaillancourt, Silvio Rendon, Jonathan Wheatley, Philippe Van Parijs and Florian Coulmas. 3 I would like to thank the following people for providing materials: Ewa Chylinski (ECMI Deputy Director), Petros Dimtsis (Macedonians in Greece), Harro Hallmann (Nordschleswiger in Dänemark), Elma Hoek (Ostfriesisch), Cornelia Naht (Ostfriesisch), Robert Joachim (Elsaß-Lothringen), Olga Martens (Moscow), Tommy Standun (RTE, Dublin, Irish Gaelic), Hewell Jones (Welsh Language Board), Elin Wyn (Welsh Language Board).
4 See, however, the discussion of attempts at unifying the local and regional varieties of Quechua in Hornberger (1998).
References Austin, P. K. and Simpson, A. (eds.) (2007), Endangered Languages. (= Linguistische Berichte, Special Issue 14). Hamburg: Helmut Buske. Blackaby, D., Latreille, P., Murphy, P., O’Leary, N. and Sloane, P. (n.d.), The Welsh Language and Labour Market Inactivity. Department of Economics, University of Wales, Swansea. Report for the Economic Research Unit, Welsh Assembly Government, www.learningobservatory.com/uploads/ publications/1175.pdf (last viewed April 6, 2016). Borooah, V. K., Dineen D. A. and Lynch, N. (2009), ‘Language and occupational status: Linguistic elitism in the Irish labour market’, The Economic and Social Review, 40(4): 435–460. Bourdieu, P. (1991), Language and Symbolic Power. Cambridge: Polity Press and Blackwell. Breton, A. (ed.) (1998), ‘Economic approaches to language and bilingualism: New Canadian perspectives’, http://files.eric.ed.gov/fulltext/ED429438.pdf (last viewed January 26, 2016). Broderick, G. (2015), ‘The revival of Manx Gaelic in the Isle of Man’, in S. Ureland and J. Stewart (eds.), pp. 33–58. Cenoz, J. and Gorter, D. (eds.) (2008), Multilingualism and Minority Languages: Achievements and Challenges in Education (Special issue of AILA Review, 21). Amsterdam, Philadelphia: John Benjamins. Coulmas, F. (1992), Language and Economy. Oxford, Cambridge, MA: Blackwell. 70
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Fishman, J. A. (ed.) (2001), Can Threatened Languages Be Saved? ‘Reversing Language Shift Revisited. Clevedon, Avon, UK: Multilingual Matters. Future Skills Wales Survey—Welsh language skills in seven sectors (2005), available online under FSW Welsh Language Skills in 7 sectors—Learning and Skills . . . (last viewed December 6, 2016). Gazzola, M., Grin, F. and Wickström, B.-A. (eds.) (2015, September), A Concise Bibliography of Language Economies. Centre for Economic Studies and Ifo Institute working paper No. 5530, category 1: Public finance (electronic version: www.CESifo-group.org/wp). Greathouse-Amador, L. M. (2005), ‘Tourism and policy in preserving minority languages and culture: The Cuetzalan experience’, Review of Policy Research, 22(1): 49–58. Grin, F. (2005, septembre), ‘L’enseignement des langues étrangères comme politique publique’, Paris: Haut Conseil de L’Evaluation de l’école, rapport 19, www.ladocumentationfrancaise.fr/var/ storage/rapports-publics/054000678.pdf (last viewed January 12, 2016). Grin, F. (2016), ‘Challenges of minority languages’, in V. Ginsburgh and S. Weber (eds.), The Palgrave Handbook of Economics and Language. Houndmills, Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, pp. 616–658. Grin, F. and Vaillancourt, F. (1997), ‘The economics of multilingualism: Overview of the literature and analytical framework’, in W. Grabe (ed.), Multilingualism and Multilingual Communities. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, pp. 43–65. Harmon, D. (2002), In Light of Our Differences: How Diversity in Nature and Culture Makes Us Human. Washington, DC: The Smithsonian Institute Press. Haugen, E. (2001) [1972], ‘The ecology of language’, in A. Fill and P. Mühlhäusler (eds.), The Ecolinguistics Reader. London: Continuum, pp. 57–66. Henley, A. and Jones, R. E. (2003), ‘Earnings and linguistic proficiency in a bilingual Economy’, The University of Wales, Aberystwyth. Research paper No. 2001–2018. The Manchester School, 73(3): 300–320, http://repec.org/res2003/Henley.pdf (last viewed May 31, 2016). Hornberger, N. H. (1998), ‘Authenticity and unification in Quechua language planning’, Language, Culture and Curriculum, 11(3): 390–410. Hornberger, N. H. (2002), ‘Language shift and language revitalization’, in R. B. Kaplan (ed.), The Oxford Handbook of Applied Linguistics. Oxford: Oxford University Press, pp. 365–373. Hughes, S. (2007), ‘Language as economic currency—the example of North East France’, in K. Pelsmakers and R. Craig (eds.), Economically Speaking: Essays in Honour of Christ Braecke. Antwerp– Apeldorn: Garant, pp. 47–59. Krauss, M. (1992), ‘The world’s languages in crisis’, Language, 68(1): 4–10. Laycock, D. (2001), ‘Linguistic diversity in Melanesia: A tentative explanation’, in A. Fill and P. Mühlhäusler (eds.), The Ecolinguistics Reader. London: Continuum, pp. 167–171. Lewin, C. (2015), ‘Revived Manx, Classical Manx and English: Competing standards’, in S. Ureland and J. Stewart (eds.), pp. 23–31. Mühlhäusler, P. (2003), Language of Environment: Environment of Language. A Course in Ecolinguistics. London: Battlebridge. Mühlhäusler, P. and Damania, R. (2004), ‘Economic costs and benefits of Australian Indigenous Languages’, Department of Communications, Information Technology and the Arts. Canberra. Nettle, D. and Romaine, S. (2000), Vanishing Voices: The Extinction of the World’s Languages. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Rendon, S. (2007), ‘The catalan premium: Work and language in catalonia’, Journal of Population Economics, 20(3): 669–686. (Also available online.) Salminen, T. (1999). “UNESCO Red book on endangered languages: Europe’, www.helsinki. fi/~tasalmin/europe_index.html (last viewed December 6, 2016). Ureland, S. and Stewart, J. (eds.) (2015), Minority Languages in Europe and Beyond—Results and Prospects. Berlin: Logos Verlag. (= Studies in Eurolinguistics, ed. P. S. Ureland, vol. 9). Vann, R. (1999), ‘An empirical perspective on practice: Operationalising Bourdieu’s notions of linguistic habitus’, in M. Grenfell and M. Kelly (eds.), Pierre Bourdieu: Language, Culture and Education. Berlin: Peter Lang, pp. 73–83. 71
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Van Parijs, P. (2007), ‘Tackling the Anglophones’ free ride: Fair linguistic cooperation with a global lingua franca’, AILA Review, 20: 72–86. Van Parijs, P. (2011), ‘Linguistic justice and the territorial imperative’, in M. Matravers and L. H. Meyer (eds.), Democracy, Equality, and Justice. London, New York: Routledge, pp. 181–202. Watson, I. and Ghiolla Phádraig, M. N. (2011), ‘Linguistic elitism: The advantage of speaking Irish rather than the Irish-speaker advantage’, The Economic and Social Review, 42(4): 437–454. Wheatley, J. (2007), ‘The economic status of national minorities in Europe: A four-case study’, JEMIE, Journal on ethnopolitics and minority issues in Europe, 6(1): 1–35. Also available at http://nbnresolving.de/urn:nbn:de:0168-ssoar-61913
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5 Language Evolution from an Ecological Perspective1 Salikoko S. Mufwene
Preliminaries I use the term language evolution in a broader sense than do McMahon and McMahon (2013), who restrict it to the phylogenetic emergence of languages in mankind. My usage is patterned on the term biological evolution, which biologists apply as much to the phylogeny of various species as to the lives or successive generations of modern ones (Mufwene, 2001). Language evolution subsumes changes in both structural and pragmatic aspects of languages, as well as in their vitality.2 I have explained my take on the ecology of language in Mufwene (2001, 2005a, 2008) and acknowledged therein the intellectual debt that we owe to Voegelin et al. (1967) and to Haugen (1971). They showed how a concept originally developed by biologists to account for the vitality of organisms and species in their natural habitats could be extended to explain the fates of languages in their social environments. This is the fundamental position developed in macroecology, from which I have sought inspiration since the 1990s. It is apparent in my discussion later, which in some ways is at variance with the approach of linguists who have also invoked language ecology to advocate for the maintenance of linguistic and cultural diversity (e.g., Mühlhäusler, 2003). As observed by several linguists since the 19th century, especially Darmesteter (1886), languages, too, have lives. However, we can account adequately for their birth or death, as well as for their capacity to stay alive, only if we also conceive of them as species, albeit of the viral kind. After all, their existence depends on the interactional practices of their speakers, who are both their creators/shapers and their hosts. The focus on species, rather than on organisms (the dominant tradition since the 19th century) is critical, because it makes evident the significance of variation within a language as an extrapolation from idiolects spoken by individuals communicating with each other (Mufwene, 2001, 2008). This shift in focus is also significant because the birth and death of languages are, typically protracted processes, associated with an increasing number of speakers behaving in a particular way. In the first case, more and more individuals converge in speaking a language in a way increasingly more divergent from an established language (variety), such as the Romance languages diverging from Vulgar Latin or creole vernaculars from their lexifiers. 73
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In the second case, there is contraction of the number of speakers and/or domains in which a language (variety) can be used. In either case, no exact birth or death certificate can be issued, unlike for organisms or individuals, because the relevant events are acknowledged (long) after they have happened. Language varieties die or are born like biological species rather than like organisms. In a nutshell, the vitality of languages depends on how regularly members of the populations associated with them get to use them in various settings. The consequences vary depending on whether they are used in all domains of the speakers’ knowledge or experiences, only in some but not in others, or in none at all. Thus the vitality of languages depends on what their speakers (do not) do with them. Therefore, there can be no accurate account of the ecology of a language that does not factor in the population associated with it and the communicative settings in which it evolves, including the particular socioeconomic structure that leads speakers to decide, where more than one language (variety) is involved, which one is more advantageous to them, in which particular communicative events (Mufwene and Vigouroux, 2012). Indeed, vitality becomes an issue only in societally multilingual ecologies, where competition may arise between the coexistent languages. Like in Darwinian evolutionary theory, competition in language evolution does not entail that languages or their features have some animacy. Although a language prevails over its ‘competitor(s)’ when it is used in more domains and is spoken by more speakers than the latter, competition simply means that the coexistent languages or their differing features are often ranked unequally by the population(s) associated with them in the ‘spacetimes’ in which they are used.3 The ranking, which is social, has little if anything to do with their particular structures. It is based on the socioeconomic and political power as well as on the differing social attitudes that the relevant population has toward the competing languages. One may also explain the behavior in terms of the social benefits the speakers hope to derive from using one or another language in particular domains of interaction, for instance, the particular kinds of jobs one aspires at, the particular social positions one wishes to hold, one’s shopping practices or one’s activities in other public spheres, in one’s neighborhood, at one’s home, etc.4 Competition is associated with the choices that speakers face, and it need not be resolved in exclusive terms, with one language driving its competitors out. Often, the outcome is a communicative division of labor between at least some of the competing languages. This may be observed in Africa, where European colonial languages, spoken primarily as lingua francas within the elite class, are restricted to communicative domains introduced by the colonial regime but are seldom used in those that are traditional to Indigenous cultures. Thus the European languages are used in the modern education system, though more and more countries are endeavoring to use Indigenous languages in primary school, in public administration and in the higher court system (Mufwene, 2008; Albaugh, 2014). Usually correlated with competition, selection is the way that the former is resolved, through the agency of speakers, either in associating particular languages with specific domains or in letting one language prevail in all domains, as within dominant, mainstream populations in European settlement colonies, including those that produced creoles. The selection process need not be conscious, as speakers typically focus on communicating in ways that are beneficial to them, in the here and now, even when this simply means being understood. Speakers have no foresight of how the choices they make in their communicative acts, language- or feature-wise, will ultimately affect the structures or vitality of their language(s). In some drastic cases of social conflicts, as has happened in some Central
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European territories, the competition is resolved politically by dividing what used to be the same countries into separate countries that become each constitutionally monolingual. What this chapter is not concerned with is the brand of the language-ecology approach identified by its practitioners as ‘ecolinguistics,’ which has capitalized especially on linguistic diversity (e.g., Couto, 2007, 2009) and has often advocated for protecting or revitalizing endangered languages (e.g., Mühlhäusler, 2003). For me, promoting linguistic diversity and its usefulness to humanity is only a moral derivative of the study of language ecology proper but not in the domain of its definition (Mufwene, 2015). The difference is similar to the distinction between ecology and environmentalism in biology at large. Linguistics will undoubtedly be very much enriched by learning the extent to which language structures, especially within the lexicon, are shaped by the social and nonsocial ecologies in which particular languages are practiced, what Couto (2014) calls “natural ecology.” This includes the faunas and floras in which their speakers evolve, as well as their socioeconomic organizations. Although I have argued that languages emerged in mankind to serve as means for rich and explicit communication beyond our fundamental, animal mind-reading capacity (Mufwene, 2013a), I also submit that languages would not function adequately as communicative systems if they did not also evolve as representational systems reflecting cognitive organizations peculiar to the populations speaking them. Their cognitive categories impose culture-specific chunks in which information is packaged linguistically, beyond some universals in the general architecture of their languages as communication technologies. Whether or not linguists should be concerned by the loss of some of these culture-specific ways of communicating information is another issue. In the following sections, I articulate the manifold ways in which I have interpreted the notion of ecology relative to language evolution. It should not at all be confused with, for instance, ecosystem, which denotes an integrated system of organisms or species interacting not just with their shared habitat but also with each other. Thus, coexistent languages are part of an ecosystem. Multilingualism as a facet of it can indeed count as an ecological factor, particularly when it is associated with unequal power relations, which foster differential evolution.
The Cascade of Ecological Determinisms Mufwene (2014) and Mufwene and Vigouroux (2012) invoke a “cascade of (partial) ecological determinisms” to account for the differential evolution of European languages in the colonies. Their intention is to highlight the fact that the European colonization of the world from the 15th to the 19th centuries was driven by economic considerations, which were subject to climatic considerations. For instance, it is not by accident that the colonies that thrived on sugarcane cultivation were concentrated between the tropics, on islands and in coastal areas, where sugar cane could be cultivated lucratively. The tropical temperatures were found suitable, in places where the vegetation is not arid and a minimum of 12 inches of rain water per year was guaranteed. Otherwise, an affordable irrigation system was developed, where the topography allowed this, as in colonial Haiti and now in Mauritius. The revolution of this industry in the 17th century led Caribbean planters to gradually develop huge plantations exploited with overwhelming majority slave laborers. This situation prompted them to impose a racially segregated population structure, in order to control the circulation of weapons and prevent possible insurrections (Wood, 1974). The tradition in Brazil, where the industry had started a century earlier, consisted in spreading the slaves
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over numerous small farms in which they remained minorities and assimilated with European indentured servants (Schwartz, 1985). Racial segregation in the Caribbean favored the emergence of creoles among the slaves, whereas the population structure of Brazil produced no Portuguese creole. Generally, the segregation of populations and rapid population replacement appear to have been more critical ecological factors in the emergence of creoles than the traditionally-invoked demographic disparities of 20% Europeans vs. 80% African slaves (Mufwene, 2001, 2005a, 2008). As a matter of fact, these demographic disparities did not obtain in many colonies that produced creoles, for instance, in Barbados, where by the mid18th century, at the peak of the expansion of the sugarcane cultivation, the ratio of African slaves to the European colonists hardly exceeded 2 to 1 (Williams, 1985: 31). Segregation and rapid population replacement appear to have applied also in Cape Verde, which produced a creole, though it had no viable sugarcane cultivation, nor even any other kind of agricultural industry requiring a large slave population in permanent residence. The archipelago functioned as a slave depot preparing slaves for their exploitation in Brazil, within a race-based segregation system intended to control effectively the population of especially bozal, African-born slaves, which typically constituted the overwhelming majority in relation to the European and locally-born, Creole population. The case of the Netherlands Antilles, where no plantation economy developed, is also noteworthy, because an additional factor, viz., the geographical isolation of the slave population from Brazil, from which they had been brought by their Dutch owners, was a form of segregation. Portuguese, which was kept as the slaves’ vernacular, evolved into a creole, although the Dutch spoken by their owners and Spanish, spoken in the neighboring territories, must have influenced this evolution. Just as ecology is said to roll the dice in biological evolution, languages also evolve at the mercy of the socioeconomic ecologies in which they are embedded. The cascade of ecological determinisms invoked here in the context of European colonization consists in the following: the natural ecology favored particular kinds of economic activities; these in turn generated particular kinds of population structures, although Brazil and the Caribbean show that the determinism allowed variation; and the population structure influenced language evolution. To make more sense of all this, one must embrace the social geographers’ position that space shapes society as much as society shapes it, as also suggested by the “niche- construction” theory (e.g. Odling-Smee et al., 2003). Thus, from the point of view of language evolution, the Caribbean differed from Brazil by the particular social practices that fostered race-based language speciation within the former’s colonial population but not in the latter. We must also remember that even in places where race segregation was institutionalized, the colonial languages did not evolve uniformly among the slaves. Creole continua date, in fact, from the early days of the emergence of creoles (Alleyne, 1980; Dillard, 1972; Lalla and D’Costa, 1990; Chaudenson, 1992, 2001; Mufwene, 2001), due not only to differential access to the koiné spoken by the colonists but also to differences in languagelearning skills and time of arrival or birth on the plantation, among other factors.
The Significance of Individuals and Populations as Ecological Factors I have focused so far on ecological factors that are external to language and do not work directly on it. They influence individual speakers. Note that, although evolutionary linguists 76
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have typically focused on languages as population-wide phenomena, it is the convergence of the behaviors of individual speakers that produces the changes that interest them. Working each in their own respective interests for survival in or adaptation to the new socioeconomic ecologies, individual speakers behave in ways that “maximize their fitness.” A great deal in how they adapt depends on their learning skills and their motivation in particular (Mufwene, 2001; Mufwene and Vigouroux, 2012). Humans are not equally good at learning by inference, which is the case in cultural, hence language evolution; nor are they equally motivated in what they do. Thus, one must factor in variation while trying to understand the dynamics of self-organization that produce population-wide patterns interpreted as social norms. One cannot claim to approach language dynamics and evolution ecologically without factoring in the speaker as the most direct external ecological factor. The speaker both contributes variation to the emergent, ever-evolving language and participates in: 1. the spread or elimination of particular variants through the selections he/she makes from among the extant competing variants; 2. the emergence of new norms, insofar as his or her behavior converges with those of others; and 3. sometimes the emergence of new varieties, depending on segregation patterns in the relevant population. Speakers operate within specific population structures, which constrain who they can(not) interact regularly with, and when they can(not) accommodate the practices of other speakers and thereby converge with or diverge from them. However, there would be no population structure to speak of without the ontologically prior existence of individuals, who must be organized in some ways for the survival of the whole, even when the social organization means the exploitation of a subgroup by another. We must definitely make sense of the complex dynamics of inter-individual and inter-group interactions in order to understand how structures of languages evolve toward new norms, how they speciate, and how they maintain or lose their vitality. However, even inter-group interactions presuppose inter-individual interactions on patterns that are typically dyadic or triadic (Mufwene, 2008; Mufwene and Vigouroux, 2012). Although the possible algorithms for making sense of these dynamics are further complexified by the fact that one’s interlocutors often change, we can assume that there are some speakers who interact with each other regularly enough to generate convergence of small-scale norms within networks and communities of practice (Lave and Wenger, 1991; Eckert and McConnell-Ginet, 1992). On the other hand, as noted in Mufwene and Vigouroux (2012: 123), The [concept of community of practice] alone will not account for all aspects of language practice. It must be complemented by an ecological, albeit ethnographic, approach that highlights how language practices are shaped by and in turn construct the physical space in which they occur. As networks and communities of practice overlap, through individuals that participate in more than one, larger-scale norms associated with neighborhoods, towns, cities, regions, or nations can emerge. On the other hand, speakers have different interactional histories and are subject to various subjective ecological pressures, there will always be variation among them. Norms and variation are definitely not mutually exclusive. 77
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When, due to the earlier ecological factors, they also diverge between populations or communities of practice, the extrapolations projected from such emergent norms have traditionally been characterized as dialects or languages, depending on the ancestry of the varieties and/or sociopolitical ideologies of those identifying them. Such differential evolution may be illustrated with the speciation, say, between different modern English varieties or between creoles and their Indo-European lexifiers. Indeed, such inter-group variation has also been identified intra-nationally between different regions, such as between different dialects of Haitian Creole. Embodying discontinuous geographical timespaces, archipelagos must have naturally favored such differential evolution, especially at times when cross-island mass transportation was not as regular and affordable as it is nowadays and their inhabitants interacted sporadically with those of other islands. They exhibit topological segregation fostered by nature. This is confirmed, for instance, by the emergence of various dialects of Cabo-Verdiano (Baptista, 2003). Population structure can also produce enclaves of minority languages surrounded geographically by a dominant language. This is the case for pockets of Brazilian Native Americans surrounded by majority monolingual Portuguese speakers, who influence their communicative practices. The vitality of such “language islands” (Couto, 2014) depends on the kinds of ecological pressures the dominant population exerts on their speakers, especially as interactions increase between the two populations and social assimilation is possible. Another kind of language islands consists of languages spoken by immigrant populations that have remained isolated from the host population and have resisted adopting the latter’s language as their vernacular. Couto’s examples include German used as a vernacular in countries where it is not the dominant language (such as Hungary, Poland, and Romania, among other European nations). There have actually been many such cases in recent colonial history, such as German in rural Wisconsin (Salmons, 2003; Wilkerson and Salmons, 2008). I am sure this was the case for many other European languages that died before German in Anglophone North America. From an ecological perspective, we should explain why these language islands did not all die at the same time or why they did not all survive. What particular ecological structures sustained those that appear to be ‘buying time,’ as Chaudenson (2008) speculates about French in Quebec, because the province is surrounded by Anglophone provinces and the United States, which together are demographically and economically more powerful. We must bear in mind that language islands presuppose social islands. Like geographic islands, which can be connected to the mainland by bridges or boats or canoes, social islands need not be completely isolated. They can be connected to majority or mainstream populations by “dispersing individuals” (Hanski, 1996). As a matter of fact, this notion has been posited on the assumption that large populations consist of discontinuous ‘habitat patches.’ The dispersing individuals transport features in and out their ‘habitat patches’; and the local interactional dynamics roll the dice on whether or not they will spread in the new ecology. Linguistic elements or practices introduced into a population by the dispersing individuals can spread and affect their heritage languages, especially if such individuals are influential or numerous. For instance, they may introduce some bilingualism, if they introduce economic or other kinds of activities, such as trade or popular music, which operate in the imported language. These new practices may exclude their heritage language from these particular domains. The dispersing individuals may also introduce adversative language practices, such as when they communicate most of the time in the imported language and this practice is socially, politically, or economically rewarding. Other locals may emulate their behavior in a way that disadvantages their current vernacular. 78
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The latter behavior may explain the spread of Portuguese in Brazil at the expense of Indigenous languages. In Black Africa, it can explain the spread of Indigenous urban vernaculars to rural areas, though these have typically been accepted as lingua francas. The reason for this reluctant acceptance of urban vernaculars lies in the current deteriorating national economies and questionable political practices of governments, which provide no significant incentives for emulating the dispersing individuals. These include boarding school drop-outs and returnees from the city, as or when they do not bring back much symbolic capital (economic or political) to justify their promotion of the urban vernacular. On the other hand, there are also urbanites who are economically successful and return to their ancestral life only because they are disenchanted with city life; they practice their ethnic language with some vengeance, so to speak, and make the locals more loyal to their heritage cultures. Overall, differences in economic development may account for this differential language evolution between Brazil and Black Africa. However, a good proportion of the dispersing individuals may also be associated with exodus from home, in search of better economic opportunities. Such population movements may erode the vitality not only of an island population but also of its language, especially when there is massive emigration in favor of a territory that is economically more affluent. Those natives who return “home” later speaking only the language of the demographically and/or economically dominant population likewise erode the vitality of their heritage language if they bring back enough socioeconomic capital. Native American populations in the United States have very much been affected by such population movements since the 19th century, especially also with the expansion of populations of European descent into their reservations (Banner, 2005). Hitherto isolated Native American populations in Brazil are now having similar experiences too (Ball, 2014). Exogamy is another ecological factor that can be associated with population structure, just like schooling outside one’s heritage community. It is thus that several European immigrants to the Americas and Australia have shifted to the dominant European vernacular of the destination colony. In industrialized nations, the assimilation of members of population islands to cultures of the dominant populations has typically entailed loss of their ancestral languages. Both Couto (2014) and Ball (2014) also show that relocating from one’s community and marrying a member of the dominant population have typically resulted in the adoption of the majority population’s language as a vernacular by the relocatees, with their children becoming monolingual in that language. In Anglophone North America and Australia, continental European immigrants have gradually shifted to English as their vernacular through a similar assimilation process. In places like Louisiana, the gradual relocation of rural Francophones to the city has also entailed language shift, under pressure to function fully in the socioeconomic structure of urban life, whose vernacular is English (Dubois, 2014). In countries such as Brazil and Mexico, where the Anglophone immigrants have been in the minority, they, too, have been shifting to Portuguese and Spanish, respectively. The history of the United States and Australia also shows that for continental European immigrant families, how fast they shifted to the dominant host language and culture is largely correlated with how soon the Anglo economic system prevailed over their parochial national economies (Mufwene, 2009). If Louisiana is not included, this observation explains why the Germans have been among the last to lose their heritage language, as their economic practices appear to have been quite competitive. Like Quebec, Louisiana prompts us to look into whether resistance to cultural assimilation is not another ecological factor. It apparently explains why the Québécois Francophones (in the ethnic interpretation of 79
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the term Francophone) have managed to revitalize French in their province and French is not dead yet in Louisiana, like in parts of the maritime provinces of Canada. On the other hand, the differential evolution of French in Quebec and Louisiana, where the language is now moribund, highlights the significance of empowering a language also economically to nurture its vitality. The French saying is: La langue doit nourrir son homme ‘the language must feed its man.’
The Mind and the Anatomy as Ecological Factors There are two other important ecological factors whose significance is made most evident by the phylogenetic emergence of language: 1) (the emergence of ) a human-specific mind that is capable of processing and storing a lot of information, as well as of producing or learning modern human languages; 2) the human endowment with a buccopharyngeal anatomy which fundamentally evolved for mastication and vocalizations but was exapted for the production of speech.5 In the animal kingdom, only humans can learn the language(s) of their social environment and those of other human populations that they wish to interact with, thereby becoming multilingual. Even though their anatomical structures are similar, birds can generally not develop some counterpart of human multilingualism, because their minds do not enable them to do so. The human mind is a critical ecological factor not only in the phylogenetic emergence of languages but also in learning them. It may also very well be that variation in how much dexterity speakers display in their linguistic performance may be correlated with variation in their mental capacities. For example, some speakers are certainly more articulate, more expressive, more precise, wittier, or more entertaining than others. The significance of the mind as an ecological factor is also apparent in communication between humans and nonhuman animals. As usually reported in the literature, the other animals that manage to understand bits and pieces of human languages, and even those that can mimic them (such as Alex the African gray parrot), can only do so in a very limited way. Communication is generally limited to their survival needs but barely at all for simple needs of socialization. Adult nonhuman primates hardly match the communicative and socialization capacity of a 2-year-old human child. However, what has received less attention is the fact that, although we are as good at reading the minds of other animals as they are with ours, no humans have been reported yet to communicate with animals in the latter’s means of communication. The lesson appears to be that both parties are severely constrained as much by their anatomies as by their mental specificities from learning means of communication of other species. Humans can learn each other’s languages across ethnolinguistic populations also because the same anatomical structures have been exapted to produce them. Although we humans have figured out what bees and ants communicate in their colonies, and even how they do it, we are deprived of the right anatomies for mimicking them. What can also be learned from parrots mimicking speech is that although a different anatomical design can be used to produce speech, the mind remains a critical ecological factor in the production of language. Human speakers differ from parrots in that they can produce novel utterances they have never heard before, whereas parrots typically repeat utterances they have learned. Differences in mental capacities explain why parrots have not invented spoken languages of their own and can only mimic or be taught, after countless hours of training, how to communicate minimally with humans only. No ‘speaking’ parrots have been reported to communicate between themselves in speech, unlike human multilinguals, 80
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who can communicate in any language that they share! The significance of the mind is also made evident in the fact that the Deaf have produced sign languages, whose architecture is as complex as that of spoken languages. A critical ecological requirement for communication in a human language is therefore being endowed with a modern human mind. As argued in Mufwene (2013a), this has enabled hominines to also produce modern cultures through their adaptive responses to various ecological pressures. Culture must be interpreted here as ways of doing things and behaving which are specific to a population. They include population-specific ways of sharing their feelings and their knowledge about what Couto (2014) identifies as their “natural ecologies.” The mind of the multilingual is home to the coexistence and competition of languages (Haugen, 1971; Weinreich, 1953). It determines whether the different linguistic systems a speaker develops remain separate and intact (if they can at all), or whether they overlap and can influence each other, apparently for reasons of economy of memory space in information storage (Mesoudi, 2011: 31). The overlap may very well be for reasons of efficiency too. The mind also responds to external ecological pressures of communication regarding which language to use and how it must be adapted to each communicative event. It is the patterns arising from its responses to communicative pressures that roll the dice on the fate of the languages that the speaker knows, viz., whether or not their structures change and how, and whether they thrive or suffer from atrophy/attrition and may eventually die. At the communal level, which is the focus of evolutionary linguistics (according to Croft 2008 and Mufwene 2013a), language change, speciation, maintenance, and loss are the ultimate outcomes of the cumulative and convergent behaviors of individual speakers, as explained in Part 1. Although there are often institutional interventions to determine or control various aspects of language evolution (such as with the creation of academies), we all know that such attempts have typically not been as successful as planned. Speakers contribute to the evolutionary trajectories of their languages unwittingly through the usual deviations associated with “learning with modification,” what Lass (1997) calls “imperfect replication.” Also, the occasions when speakers reuse the same words or phrases are not always identical to previous ones, which can trigger new evolutionary trajectories. Through their practices in response to various indirect external ecological pressures (discussed above), speakers are the direct external ecologies to their languages.
The Internal Ecology Another fold of the ecology of language is ‘internal’ (Mufwene, 2001, 2005a, 2008). This has little to do with the traditional distinction between externally and internally-motivated change in historical linguistics. Historical linguists have typically associated externallymotivated change with language contact and treated every other change as internally motivated. They have thus suggested that languages have histories which are independent of the agency of their speakers or that speakers in an ethnolinguistically unmixed population are so symbiotically tied to their languages that they do not count as ecologies. From an ecological perspective, both inferences are untenable. To be sure, what historical linguists have had in mind is simply to consider as internally motivated those changes that originated within the population of native speakers. Thus, the grammar of the standard or written variety of a language may change simply because attitudes to nonstandard elements have changed and the elite stratum of the population has become more tolerant of some nonstandard features. The account would also be the same 81
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if population movements within the national boundaries of an ethnolinguistically unmixed population produced structural changes that can be associated with the new patterns of contacts between and mutual influences from its dialects. In contrast, I submit the following: because the speakers are themselves not part of their languages (as shown in the above section), all language changes are in a sense externally motivated. One may consider some debatable exceptions, such as when the English verb need used as a modal auxiliary verb does not take the third person singular agreement marker and is negated without the auxiliary do. This kind of change is said to be analogical, as it is patterned on the behavior of more established modal auxiliary verbs such as can and will. On the other hand, changes are also largely constrained or facilitated by the current composition of the feature pool of a particular language, which avails structural materials that can be exapted for new functions. The feature pool imposes limits on how the materials can be extrapolated. It also determines which variants stand as ecologies to each other (Mufwene, 2001, 2005a, 2008). In phenomena such as grammaticization, nothing happens that is not licensed by the extant grammar. For instance, while functioning as a semi-auxiliary verb in Is Paula going to swim?, the verb go in English continues to behave like a motion verb inflected in the progressive, modified by its own copular auxiliary be, which is inflected in the third-person singular (Mufwene, 2005b). Although it is used as an auxiliary, it is blocked from the subject-auxiliary inversion rule! Likewise, in Gullah, the English creole spoken on the coast of South Carolina and Georgia, in the United States, the morpheme fuh [fǝ] ‘for’ functions as an obligation modal in the construction Robert fuh come see me ‘Robert has to/must come (to) see me.’ The reason is that the preposition fuh can also be used predicatively without a copula in a construction such as dis book fuh me ‘this book [is] for me.’ One can even argue that it remains a preposition even in this derivative grammaticized function, though its complement is a verb, rather than a noun. Gullah’s grammar appears to have facilitated the cooption of the predicative preposition with a purpose meaning for the modal function where an English-like language would instead recruit a purpose verb in this head-of-predicate-phrase position. Similar considerations apply to verbs that have evolved into auxiliary verbs in syntactic environments in which they could take verbal or clausal complements. Although, in English, their specialization has led them to behave differently from other transitive verbs (especially regarding contraction, the subject-auxiliary inversion, and the ability to combine with the negation marker not), they continue to behave like other verbs in the Romance languages. For instance, in French, aller ‘go’ in Je vais lire le roman ‘I am going to read the novel’ inverts with the subject in Vais-je lire le roman? ‘Am I going to read the novel?,’ the same way that the regular motion verb aller does in Je vais à l’église ‘I go/am going to church’ and Vais-je à l’église? ‘Do/Am I going go to church?’
Final Remarks It is difficult to account for historical and phylogenetic aspects of language evolution without invoking changes in the ecology of human communication. This regards whether the relevant innovations or structural changes are caused by changes in their mental capacity and/or social organization (most relevant to phylogeny); by population contact, which can generate a new population structure and affect the strength of variants relative to each other; or by simple population dispersal, which can entail an unequal, nonuniform distribution of variants between the allo-populations. 82
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Regarding the phylogenetic emergence of Language, changes in the hominine mental capacity, undoubtedly compounded with population growth, exerted a lot of ecological pressure on our hominine ancestors to develop more efficient and explicit communication technology, in response to their expanding knowledge (Mufwene, 2013a, to appear). An interesting feedback loop between richer knowledge and high-fidelity communication has culminated in modern human languages. The mind is a critical ecological factor and in fact the driver of the evolutionary process, because it coopted the buccopharyngeal or manual anatomy to develop language. In turn, the anatomy imposed obvious constraints on how it can be used in the manufacture of language as communication technology. Phonetic sounds can be produced only linearly; and linearity prompted the need for syntax. This started with constraints on how to combine sounds into words; and similar combinatorial principles were extrapolated to the production of larger units, imposing, among other things, also the identification of basic and complex units called constituents. In contrast, the anatomy used for the production of manual signs, in signed languages, need not operate in a strictly linear fashion. One can produce complex signs that conflate, for instance, motion, manner, and direction in one complex sign. This architectural difference, generated by the kinds of anatomical parts used, enables signed languages to communicate information as fast as spoken languages, although the organs used in the former are larger and slower, operating in larger space than those used in the latter. In other words, the kind of material used constrains how a particular communication technology can(not) be developed. Ecological changes invoked to account for language history, which are not embodied in the speaker/signer, can alone explain a large proportion of differences, for instance, between English varieties. One can indeed invoke differing contacts of dialects or of languages to account for these differences. However, this is not the full story. For instance, one may wonder why there is a negligible amount of influence on the grammars of White American Englishes that can be traced incontrovertibly to continental European languages, whereas the overwhelming majority of White Americans are of continental European descent. This suggests that this influence must be postformative (Mufwene, 2009). One must factor in other ecological factors, such as the time of arrival, the fact that up to the early 20th century White Americans did not constitute an integrated group and resided in national, segregated settlements or urban neighborhoods functioning in their respective parochial economic systems, until the Anglo system prevailed, at different times for different populations. This event entailed pressure to assimilate and shift to English as a vernacular, with the children acquiring American English(es) natively and the adults taking most of their xenolectal features with them to their graves. Varieties such as Amish English, which still bears the marks of isolated social life, give us an idea of how distinct Italian and German Englishes, for example, must have been before the integration of White America caused their death. Regarding population dispersal, changes in the distribution of variants affect the ‘balance of power’ between them and can set in motion new dynamics of usage that may produce structural change and sometimes language speciation (Mufwene, 2008). This cascade of changes can certainly be invoked to account for speciation between, for instance, English in the British Isles, and on the Falkland Islands and Tristan da Cunha, where the English and American colonists barely mixed with non-Anglophones (Schreier, 2003). Koinèization as the outcome of dialect contact (Trudgill, 1986, 2004) is an instance of the kind of historical language evolution discussed here, assuming that it arises by competition and selection (Mufwene, 2001). It differs from the emergence of, for instance, creoles in that the relevant competition involves no other languages. 83
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Offsetting the ‘balance of power’ among variants is also one of the things that language contact, an important ecological factor as actuator of change in both population structure and language, can do. For instance, it can favor some variants over others, under the influence of the other language(s) that the dominant language came in contact with. In the case of the emergence of Atlantic creoles, contact between the European lexifier and the substrate languages, a large proportion of which have an isolating morphosyntax, has typically favored periphrasis over inflections, although other ecological factors contributed to this particular kind of evolution. Structural characteristics suggesting this kind of analysis include the selection of the expression of tense and grammatical plural with free markers rather than with affixes, as in the case of dem bin talk ‘they talked’ and di book dem or dem book ‘the books’ in several English creoles. Most importantly in an ecological approach, one cannot at all ignore the significance of individual speakers as the ultimate and most direct ecology of a language. They are the unwitting agents of changes not only in its structures but also in its vitality. Every external ecological factor I have invoked since Mufwene (2001), including socioeconomic power, work or peer pressure, religious ideology, formal education and social integration or segregation, works through individuals as they interact, or do not interact, regularly with each other. Their own personalities matter, as they determine whether they follow or resist particular trends, and whether or not they yield to social pressures. Also, as with other social skills, there are good and poor language learners, those that keep up with new trends and those that are conservative. This variation explains why a language does not evolve uniformly, notwithstanding other ecological factors such as agegrading and the fact that population structure may prevent part of a population from participating in a trend that another part is engaged in. In contact settings, everything being equal, inter-individual variation explains why a language does not evolve in a uniform fashion. For instance, some speakers will exhibit more, or less, substrate influence than others. As explained earlier, this is part of the explanation for the emergence of ‘creole speech continua.’ From an evolutionary perspective, the mind of the speaker remains the most important driver of evolution, as it filters all influences from both outside and within the speaker. This is evident even in incipient pidgins, which, although reflecting drastic changes in the structures of the lexifier, remain human languages nonetheless. They maintain a fundamental character of the architecture of languages in remaining linear and compositional from sounds to words and from words to sentences, as well as in preserving what Hockett (1959) and Martinet (1960) (mis)identified, respectively, ‘duality of patterning’ and ‘double articulation.’ They also exhibit some grammar, however rudimentary this may be considered. For instance, they maintain a distinction between nouns and verbs, they resort to demonstratives and quantifiers to specificity reference, and they have predication, regardless of whether or not the relevant word order is variable. Acting as a critical ecological factor, the modern human mind of the contact populations has prevented the lexifier from disintegrating completely. Finally, I must underscore the fact that the ecology of language is also relevant to synchronic linguistics, especially regarding the ethnography of communication (Mufwene and Vigouroux, 2012). Relevant to this is Bourdieu (1977), who projects Homo loquens as Homo economicus. The speaker putatively adjusts his/her linguistic behavior in every communicative event according to the particular intérêts expressifs he or she may gain, in the form of special attention or symbolic benefit, within his or her champ (‘his field of interactions’). The speaker operates in a linguistic market, in which languages, like monetary currencies, acquire market values, which can appreciate or depreciate when they cross the boundaries 84
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of their traditional champs. Thus, the vitality of a language can increase or decrease according to whether its market value generally appreciates or depreciates, in different domains of interaction, in the habitus of the relevant population. The depreciation, which can be induced by especially settlement colonization, is what causes the populations associated with them to speak them less and less, until attrition kicks in and/or the language has fewer and fewer people exposed to and learning it naturalistically. Colonization causes language loss only indirectly, through how speakers adapt to the new socioeconomic ecology it creates. In the final analysis, one must realize that although speakers reflect the history of their language(s) and their own personal interactional histories, they shape the ongoing history of their language(s) through how they (do not) use it on different occasions to meet their respective communicative needs in, compliance with the pressures emanating from their socioeconomic and political ecologies.
Further Reading Boudreau, A., Dubois, L., Maurais, J. and McConnel, G. (eds.) (2002), L’écologie des Languages— Ecology of Languages. Paris: L’Harmattan. The book deals especially with interactions embedded in specific timespaces of contacts between speakers, who are influenced by the political ideologies of their nation-states. Most of the contributions discuss language coexistence, competition and shift, assessing the pioneer work of William Mackey in the context of multilingualism. Couto, H. H. do (2007), Ecolingüística: estudo das relaçτnes entre lingua e meio ambiente. Brasilia: Thesaurus Editora. This book focuses on what Sune Vork Steffensen and Alwin Fill, as well as the author himself, call ‘natural ecology,’ in relation to the ecosystem in which the speakers of a language live and the extent to which the linguistic system reflects how they interact with this natural ecology. Fill, A. and Mühlhäusler, P. (eds.) (2001), The Ecolinguistics Reader: Language, Ecology and Environment. London: Continuum Press. This book includes various publications since the early 20th century which the editors consider as important milestones in the emergence of ecolinguistics as a research area. Lechevrel, N. (2011), Les approches écologiques en linguistique : enquête critique. Louvain-LaNeuve: Academia Bruylant. This book is a historical overview of how ecological approaches to language have developed from the 1970s to 2010, highlighting differences between ecolinguistics as practiced especially by Peter Mühlhäusler and the ecology of language as articulated in my own work. The author explains why it is important not to confuse the two approaches. Vandenbussche, W., Hákon Jahr, E. and Trudgill, P. (eds.) (2013), Language Ecology for the 21st Century: Linguistic Conflicts and Social Environments. Oslo: Novus Press. The contributions assess the legacy of Einar Haugen’s innovative work on language ecology: what its continued value and its applicability to various research areas are, assuming that linguistic theory must be embedded in society, its true environment, according to the editors.
Notes 1 This chapter is a significantly revamped version of an earlier essay “The ecology of language: Some evolutionary perspectives” published in 2013 in Da fonologia à ecolinguística: um caminho dedicado à linguagem (Homenagem a Hildo Honório do Couto), ed. by E. Kioko, N. N. do Couto, D. Borges de Albuquerque, and G. Paulino de Araújo, 302–327. Brasíia: Thesaurus. 2 The term vitality is chosen here to avoid the dominant bias in linguistics that has drawn attention almost exclusively to language endangerment and loss (Mufwene, 2004, 2008). The discipline has hardly articulated the ecological dynamics that have sustained some languages demographically, 85
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geographically and/or functionally. Vitality serves as an umbrella term for all the possible evolutionary trajectories that the life of a language can take, although every now and then I use it more narrowly in the phrases loss/lack of vitality. 3 Wallerstein’s (2004) notion of Spacetime (sometimes reproduced as Timespace, as in Vigouroux, 2009) may be more suitable than the traditional ethnographic notion of setting. A place of interaction is indeed shaped by the population evolving in it at a specific time in its history and on a specific occasion (Mufwene and Vigouroux, 2012). 4 I focus on speaking in this chapter because it is in spoken, rather than in written form, that a language typically maintains its vitality. Individuals that are competent in dead languages can write them without bringing them back to life. It is not clear that Classical Latin may be considered a living language simply because the Vatican’s curia can still speak it as a lingua franca. Perhaps keeping a language alive has to do especially with using it in more than a restricted communicative domain, including socialization/enculturation at and/or outside home. 5 Assuming that languages are communication technologies (McArthur, 1987, Koster, 2009, Mufwene, 2013a), one must realize that good technologies are typically designed with some anticipation of how well the consumer will use them. Alternatively, technologies survive according to how much success they score ‘in the hands’ of the users. Successful perception too appears to have been a critical ecological factor in the evolution of language(s).
References Albaugh, E. A. (2014), State-Building and Multilingual Education in Africa. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Alleyne, M. C. (1980), Comparative Afro-American: An Historical Comparative Study of EnglishBased Afro-American Dialects of the New World. Ann Arbor: Karoma. Ball, Chr. (2014), ‘Linguistic subjectivity in ecologies of Amazonian language change’, in S. S. Mufwene (ed.), Iberian Imperialism and Language Evolution in Latin America. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, pp. 244–273. Banner, S. (2005), How the Indians Lost Their Land: Law and Power on the Frontier. Cambridge, MA: Belknab Press. Baptista, M. (2003), The Syntax of Cape Verdean Creole: The Sotavento Varieties. Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Bourdieu, P. (1977), ‘L’économie des échanges linguistiques’, Langue Française, 34: 17–34. Chaudenson, R. (1992), Des îles, des hommes, des langues. Paris: L’Harmattan. Chaudenson, R. (2001), Creolization of Language and Culture. London: Routledge. Chaudenson, R. (2008), ‘On the futurology of linguistic development’, in C. B. Vigouroux and S. S. Mufwene (eds.), Globalization and Language Vitality: Perspectives From Africa. London: Continuum Press, pp. 171–190. Couto, H. H. do (2007), Ecolinguística: Estudo das relações entre língua e meio ambiente. Brasília: Thesaurus Editora. Couto, H. H. do (2009), Ecologia, linguística e ecolinguística: contato de línguas. São Paulo: Editora Contexto. Couto, H. H. do (2014), ‘Amerindian language Islands in Brazil’, in S. S. Mufwene (ed.), Iberian Imperialism and Language Evolution in Latin America. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, pp. 76–107. Croft, W. (2008), ‘Evolutionary linguistics’, Annual Review of Anthropology, 37: 219–234. Darmesteter, A. (1886), La vie des mots étudiée dans leurs significations. Paris: Delagrave. Dillard, J. L. (1972), Black English: Its History and Usage in the United States. New York: Random House, Vintage Books. Dubois, S. (2014), ‘Autant en emporte la langue: la saga louisianaise du français’, in S. S. Mufwene and C. B. Vigouroux (eds.), Colonisation, Globalization, et vitalité du français. Paris: Odile Jacob, pp. 155–178. Eckert, P. and McConnell-Ginet, S. (1992), ‘Think practically and look locally: Language and gender as community-based practice’, Annual Review of Anthropology, 21: 461–490. 86
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Hanski, I. (1996), ‘Metapopulation ecology’, in O. E. Rhodes Jr., R. K. Chesser, and M. H. Smith (eds.), Population Dynamics in Ecological Space and Time. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, pp. 13–43. Haugen, E. (1971), ‘The ecology of language’, The Linguistic Reporter (Supplement 25): 19–26. Reprinted in A. S. Dil (ed.) (1972), The Ecology of Language: Essays by Einar Haugen. Stanford: Stanford University Press, pp. 325–339. Hockett, C. F. (1959), ‘Animal “languages” and human language’, Human Biology, 31: 32–39. Koster, J. (2009), ‘Ceaseless, unpredictable creativity’, Biolinguistics, 3: 61–92. Lalla, B. and D’Costa, J. (1990), Voices in Exile: Three Hundred Years of Jamaican Creole. Tuscaloosa: University of Alabama Press. Lass, R. (1997), Historical Linguistics and Language Change. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Lave, J. and Wenger, E. (1991), Situated Learning: Legitimate Peripheral Participation. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. McArthur, D. (1987), ‘Le langage considéré comme une technologie’, Cahiers de Lexicologie, 50: 157–164. McMahon, A. and McMahon, R. (2013), Evolutionary Linguistics. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Martinet, A. (1960), Elements de linguistique générale. Paris: Armand Colin. Mesoudi, A. (2011), Cultural Evolution: How Darwinian Theory Can Explain Human Culture and Synthesize the Social Sciences. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Mufwene, S. S. (2001), The Ecology of Language Evolution. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Mufwene, S. S. (2004), ‘Language birth and death’, Annual Review of Anthropology, 33: 201–222. Mufwene, S. S. (2005a), Créoles, écologie sociale, évolution linguistique. Paris: L’Harmattan. Mufwene, S. S. (2005b), ‘How many bes are there in English?’, in S. S. Mufwene, E. J. Francis and R. S. Wheeler (eds.), Polymorphous Linguistics: Jim McCawley’s Legacy. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press, pp. 225–246. Mufwene, S. S. (2008), Language Evolution: Contact, Competition and Change. London: Continuum Press. Mufwene, S. S. (2009), ‘The indigenization of English in North America’, in T. Hoffmann and L. Siebers (eds.), World Englishes: Problems, Properties, Prospects. Amsterdam: Benjamins, pp. 353–368. Mufwene, S. S. (2013), ‘Language as technology: Some questions that evolutionary linguistics should address’, in T. Lohndal (ed.), In Search of Universal Grammar: From Norse to Zoque. Amsterdam: John Benjamins, pp. 327–358. Mufwene, S. S. (2014), ‘Language ecology, language evolution, and the actuation question’, in T. Afarli and B. Maelhum (eds.), Language Contact and Change: Grammatical Structure Encounters the Fluidity of Language. Amsterdam: John Benjamins, pp. 13–35. Mufwene, S. S. (2015), ‘Creoles and pidgins do not have inadequate lexica: A response to Peter Mühl häusler’, Journal of Pidgin and Creole Languages, 30: 142–158. Mufwene, S. S. (in press), ‘The evolution of language as technology: The cultural dimension’, in W. Wimsatt and A. Love (eds.), Beyond the Meme. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press. Mufwene, S. S. and Vigouroux, C. B. (2012), ‘Individuals, populations, and timespace: Perspectives on the ecology of language’, Cahiers de Linguistique, 38(2): 111–138. Mühlhäusler, P. (2003), Language of Environment, Environment of Language: A Course in Ecolinguistics. London: Battlebridge. Odling-Smee, F. J., Laland, K. N. and Feldman, M. W. (2003), Niche Construction: The Neglected Process of Evolution. Princeton: Princeton University Press. Salmons, J. (2003), ‘The shift from German to English: World War I and the German-language press in Wisconsin’, in W. G. Rädel and H. Schmahl (eds.), Menschen zwischen zwei Welten: Auswanderung, Ansiedlung, Akkulturation. Trier: Wissenschaftlicher Verlag, pp. 179–193. Schreier, D. (2003), Isolation and Language Change: Contemporary and Sociohistorical Evidence From Tristan da Cunha English. New York: Palgrave Macmillan. 87
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Schwartz, S. B. (1985), Sugar Plantations in the Formation of Brazilian Society: Bahia, 1550–1835. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Trudgill, P. (1986), Dialects in Contact. New York: Basil Blackwell. Trudgill, P. (2004), New-Dialect Formation: The Inevitability of Colonial Englishes. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Vigouroux, C. B. (2009), ‘A relational understanding of language practice: Interacting times-spaces in a single ethnographic site’, in J. Collins, S. Slembrouck and M. Baynham (eds.), Globalization and Language Contact: Spatiotemporal Scales, Migration Flows, and Communicative Practices. London: Continuum Press, pp. 62–84. Voegelin, C. F., Voegelin, F. M. and Schutz, N. W. Jr. (1967), ‘The language situation in Arizona as part of the Southwest culture area’, in D. Hymes and W. E. Bittle (eds.), Studies in Southwestern Ethnolinguistics: Meaning and History in the Languages of the American Southwest. The Hague: Mouton, pp. 403–451. Wallerstein, I. (2004), World-Systems Analysis: An Introduction. Durham, NC: Duke University Press. Weinreich, U. (1953), Languages in Contact: Findings and Problems. New York: Linguistic Circle of New York. Wilkerson, M. E. and Salmons, J. (2008), ‘ “Good immigrants of yesterday” who didn’t learn English: Germans in Wisconsin’, American Speech, 83: 259–283. Williams, J. (1985), ‘Preliminaries to the study of the dialects of White West Indian English’, Nieuwe West-Indische Gids, 59: 27–44. Wood, P. (1974), Black Majority: Negroes in Colonial South Carolina From 1670 Through the Stono Rebellion. New York: Alfred A. Knopf.
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6 Ecolinguistic Aspects of Language Planning Robert B. Kaplan
Languages do not bloom and die like roses, as Kloss (1967) suggested; rather, they are modulated through human intervention. Such intervention may be casual or programmatic, local or governmental. Languages are, however, instruments of portrayal and communication. Clearly, intervention into languages is likely to affect the lives of the people who use them. Thus, traditionally, language planning has been seen as the deliberate, future-oriented systematic-change of language code, use and/or speaking, most visibly undertaken by government, in some community of speakers. Language planning is directed by, or leads to, the promulgation of language policy(s)—by government or some other authoritative body (e.g., a governmental ministry) or person (e.g., Kim Il Sung; see Kaplan and Baldauf, 2011). Language policies are bodies of ideas, laws, practices, regulations, and rules intended to achieve some planned language change. Language policy may be realized in: • • •
Very formal (overt) language planning documents and pronouncements (e.g., Canada’s 1977 Bill 101) that are either symbolic or substantive in form Informal statements of intent Unstated (covert) practices
Although the distinction between language policy (the plan) and language planning (implementation) is an important one, the two terms have frequently been used interchangeably in the literature where language policy is described as being large scale, and generally ‘top down.’ That being so, what is at issue is a kind of social engineering, where Language Planning is an activity frequently leading to Language Policy. The stated intent of Language Planning is to trigger specific transformations in the language usage of a given human community, effectively causing social change in a human population (Cooper, 1989).
Introduction This type of top-down planning, particularly as it relates to English, has been criticized as being imperialistic, and being involved in the suppression of linguistic human rights (see, e.g. Cunningham, 2003; May, 2005; Phillipson, 1992; Phillipson and Skutnabb-Kangas, 1997; Skutnabb-Kangas, 2000; Skutnabb-Kangas and Phillipson, 1994). However, some of 89
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the alternatives proposed by these scholars are potentially equally ‘top-down’ and clearly run the risk of creating a new type of apartheid, where minorities are forced to learn particular languages. As Ammon (2004) has pointed out, much of this ‘burden’ of language maintenance may fall on the poorest sectors of minority communities, those least able for social or economic reasons to develop bilingual alternatives that allow them to participate fully in society. Rather, as English has expanded, it has changed, at least in some contexts; that is, it has moved from typically dominant situations (e.g., L1 to L1 speakers and L1 to L2 speakers) to lingua franca situations where it is used between L2 and L2 speakers or where L1 speakers have become a distinct minority (see e.g., van Els, 2001; Wright, 2004).1 This change in the disciplinary context, with increased focus on the individual, on the social context and on identity, has contributed to a challenge toward a macro top-down conceptualization of the discipline, gradually shifting the focus of language planning over the last 15 years, leading to greater interest in meso and micro planning.
Historical Perspectives Since the late 1960s, a number of language planners have put forward their ideas about what might constitute a model for language policy and planning (e.g., Cooper, 1989; Ferguson, 1968; Fishman, 1974; Haarmann, 1990; Haugen, 1983; Neustupný, 1974), whereas others (e.g., Annamalai and Rubin, 1980; Bentahila and Davies, 1993; Nahir, 1984) have contributed to the understanding of the field by concentrating on defining the nature of language planning goals. Hornberger, (1994) has explicitly brought these two strands together in a single framework, and Kaplan and Baldauf, (2011) have argued that any such framework is situated within an ecological context. Kaplan and Baldauf (2003), using examples drawn from polities in the Pacific basin, have illustrated how these elements might come together to form a revised and expanded framework (Baldauf, 2005), encompassing • • • • •
Status (van Els, 2005) Corpus (Liddicoat, 2005) Prestige planning (Ager, 2005) Language-in-education (Baldauf and Kaplan, 2005) The issue of minority language rights (May, 2005)
Although such goal-related perspectives may be conceptually useful for mapping out the discipline, most of the language planning and policy goals are not independent of each other. For example, a particular language planning problem may have a number of different goals, some of which may even be contradictory; e.g., a widespread language (like English) entering the environment may potentially conflict in the school curriculum with goals related to regional, national, or local language maintenance. Depending on the level at which it is introduced, all kinds of social change involved are not always beneficial, although they may be deemed politically expedient. For confirmation one merely needs to look at the language changes proposed by political leaders. Here are a few examples of such quite successful leaders: • • •
North Korea: Kim Il-sung (46 years, 1948–1994) The Soviet Union: Joseph Stalin (24 years, 1929–1953) Singapore: Lee Kuan Yew (30 years, 1959–1990)
(see, e.g. Kaplan and Baldauf, 2011; Chua, 2010) 90
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Apparently, when language planning is directed at a political objective, i.e., • • • •
Promoting a socialist state (North Korea, Soviet Union) Promoting a national language focused on unity in a multilingual polity to serve economic objectives (Singapore) Attempting to achieve unity in a polity divided by language and religion (Sudan) (Abdelhay et al., 2011) Striving for economic advantage in a polity depressed by poverty or lack of modernization (Pakistan) (Mansoor, 2003; Rahman, 1996)
language planning is widely undertaken, but success appears to be rather limited, perhaps because the language-planning activist has failed to recognize that the proposed (or adopted) planning reduces the value of the language presently in use by the population and belittles the attachment of those speakers to their language—a situation that occurs because, above and beyond their status as abstract semiotic systems, languages are communicational and representational tools; any action that attempts to insert another language, for whatever reason, in lieu of the established language will affect the daily lives of the people who use the established language. Upon entering school, children of diverse cultures are required to abandon their cultural roots and their first languages, to accept the normative language chosen by the school. For a language to survive, a considerable number of people must maintain their speech and perhaps their ways of life against the inroads of a changing social and linguistic environment (De Swaan, 2001: 54). Languages die gradually and inconspicuously as a consequence of the communicative practices of the relevant population, in ecologies where the speakers themselves can be considered as victims, as they themselves have adapted to change. We cannot just encourage them to maintain their ancestral languages even if only as home varieties without providing the ecologies that can support our prescription (Mufwene, 2002: 42). Human beings seem to be approaching the point of forming a global constellation of languages (De Swaan, 2001) and a new global (eco)linguistic system. The boundaries between nation-states have become more permeable in terms of both economic exchange and communication, although this has not always been extended to include the free movement of people. The old markets have been reorganized into global networks, and potential customers are now everywhere. Globalization is the label used to describe this new situation, which also includes (Santos, 2006) an economy dominated by a global financial and investment system, by flexible production processes and by ubiquitous, fiscal and monetary policies aimed at containing inflation and reducing the cost of transport. These modifications have developed along with a revolution in information and communications technologies and minimal state intervention in local economies, normally including reduced expenditure on social policies as well as the privatization of the entrepreneurial sector. Like all massive social changes, globalization cannot be understood without the ideological background that underpins it. Steger (2005) uses the term ‘globalism’ to refer to the ideology driving globalization, based on such familiar assertions as: • • •
globalization involves the liberalization and global integration of markets (in fact, as noted by Fairclough [2006], globalism identifies globalization with the spread of the free market); globalization is both inevitable and irreversible; globalization does not belong to anybody; 91
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• •
globalization is a beneficial process for the whole world; globalization fosters the spread of democracy around the world.
The true role played by languages in a global market is that language is the market. According to Grin (1994: 35), a market is commonly defined in economic studies by four elements: • • •
a commodity, i.e. goods or services; a set price; a demand forecast, which represents the volume of goods or services that agents are willing to consume, for each price bracket; and a forecast of supply, which identifies the volume of goods or services that agents are willing to produce for every price bracket.
Economic Issues Language skills are an important form of human capital. They satisfy the three basic requirements for human capital: • • •
they are embodied in the person; they are productive in the labor market and/or in consumption; and they are created at a sacrifice of time and out-of-pocket resources. (Chiswick and Miller, 1995: 248)
According to Grin and Vaillancourt’s synthesis (1997), individuals with a super-collective character and whose value increases as the number of people that use it grows, broadening its communication effectiveness. In terms of human communities, the sum of this individual human capital is a form of social capital. Given the (positive) network externality and their collective character, languages can also be seen as a type of hyper-collective goods. Such an imposition effectively represents a variety of social engineering.
Definitions: Social Engineering As argued by Ferdinand Tönnies, in his article “The Present Problems of Social Structure” (1905), society can no longer operate successfully by using obsolete methods for social management. Rather, to achieve first-rate outcomes, conclusions and decisions must employ the most advanced techniques, including appropriate statistical data, which can be applied in any attempt to modify and improve a social system. In sum, social engineering is a databased scientific system to develop a sustainable design intended to achieve intelligent management of Earth’s resources to achieve in a human population the best possible order, prosperity, happiness and freedom. Language Planning, as a methodological implement, may be understood to be unbiased, since there is no reason for the rationalization of action within a particular sociolinguistic framework to be fundamentally dispassionate or ultraconservative, or neither good nor evil. However, • • •
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is unlikely to go unnoticed. It may have either a positive or a negative effect on the affected population, but it will inevitably have some effect. To presume that it will be accepted quietly is unrealistic. Language planning work may be directed toward the application of research-based knowledge to particular social situations or such issues as, for example, • •
translation policies in multilingual countries, or policies concerning minority languages,2
because such issues will have implications for language rights, for democratic development and for in-country and global employment as matters concerning sociological interest (Chesterman, 2006: 17).
Definitions: Ecolinguistics Research in sociolinguistics processes has resulted in the emergence of various approaches as exemplified by Ecolinguistics. Haugen’s essay “The Ecology of Language” (1972) created the basis for the ecological metaphor applied to linguistics, which he defined as “the study of interactions between any given language and its environment” (p. 325). Halliday, in 1992, published a study regarding research concerned with understanding the role that language plays in intensifying or easing environmental problems (as well as a variety of other social problems). These inquiries eventually coalesced to triangulate into Ecolinguistics (cf. Fill, 2001), a development associated with critical discourse analysis3—the construct that uses various parameters to identify ecological thinking; i.e., factors in the environment as well as heredity in determining human nature and such character traits as intelligence and personality in analyzing linguistic systems, in explicating problems generated by monocultural unilateralism, in failing to recognize that natural resources and human capabilities are not infinite and that short-term perspectives have value in language analysis and intervention (Weinrich, 2001: 94). Language planning had its conceptual origins in the 1960. As it exists at the present time, language planning is primarily an outgrowth of the positivist economic and social science paradigms that dominated the late 1960s and early 1970s. In the dominant Western nationstate tradition, and as part of the de-colonizing process that occurred after World War II, it has been associated with the ‘one-nation/one-language’ myth (e.g., Grillo, 1989). Originally designated language engineering, the discipline emerged as an approach to articulating programs for solving “language problems,” however defined, usually in newly independent “developing countries.” Those positivistic views gave rise to the optimistic belief that the major social problems of the world could be solved through the application of the scientific method together with careful planning. The earliest activities had their origins in the then emerging concept of sociolinguistics— i.e., the relationship between language and society. Sociolinguistics was conceived as differing from some earlier interests for language-society relationships in that sociolinguistics considers language as well as society to be a structure rather than merely a collection of items. Sociolinguistics began to show the systematic covariance of linguistic structure and social structure, perhaps to show a causal relationship in one direction or another. Although sociolinguistics derived much of its orientation from structural linguistics, it deviated sharply with one linguistic trend—the approach that treated language as completely uniform,
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homogeneous or monolithic in structure. That perception led to differences in speech habits found within a community to be treated as “free variation.” Sociolinguistics was able to show that such diversity is not, in fact, free, but is correlated with systematic social differences; that is to say, linguistic diversity is precisely the subject of sociolinguistics (Bright, 1966). Many applied linguists have been asked, at one time or another, to function as language planners. The spread of language planning and the wider involvement of applied linguists implicate such functions as working with: 1. local education agencies faced with multilingual populations, 2. employers faced by what seems to be increasing illiteracy, 3. commercial organizations attempting to devise advertising campaigns to infiltrate minority communities (e.g., Kaplan et al., 1996), 4. multinational corporations faced with polyglot employee pools (Clyne, 1994), 5. engineers’ attempts to develop automated translation systems, 6. manufacturers trying to build intelligent machines, and 7. a vast variety of other activities.
Current Contributions: Shifting Focus These issues resulted in the construction and funding (by the Ford Foundation) of the Survey of Language Use and Language Teaching in Eastern Africa (i.e. Ethiopia, Kenya, Tanzania, Uganda and Kenya). After protracted planning, the survey officially began in the summer of 1967 and continued until 1971. It was an attempt to respond to the need, expressed with increasing urgency during the preceding decade, by African political and educational leaders, for certain types of information about languages. The West African Languages Survey, also financed by the Ford Foundation, had begun in 1960 under the direction of Joseph Greenberg. It had surveyed the language situation in the entire West African region, primarily focusing on linguistic problems in describing little-known languages. The survey produced a large number of technical papers of interest to professional linguists but of little or no assistance to government officials or language teachers, whereas the East African survey more adequately served educational concerns (Prator, 1972). Partially as the result of the efforts of the Ford Foundation, as reflected in the two African surveys, language planning became inextricably bound to second-language teaching and, as a result, tied to the teaching of English to serve global educational concerns. The writings of those involved in that work formed the basis for the discipline that began to emerge in the late 1960s and early 1970s (see, for example, Fishman et al., 1968; Rubin and Jernudd, 1971). Although the discipline was initially seen as a neutral activity focused on national language (i.e., macro) development for nation building—i.e., finding and defining a national language (via status planning and corpus planning)— • • • •
the political nature of most of the decision making (Baldauf and Kaplan, 2003), the importance of social, historical and ecological context (e.g. Kaplan and Baldauf, 2003; Mühlhäusler, 1996, 2000), the lack of attention to minority language issues (e.g. May, 2005) and the expansion of English and its impact on other languages (e.g., Pennycook, 1998; Ricento, 2006; Maurais and Morris, 2003),
when viewed through hindsight, are now seen as major foci (or problems) for the discipline. 94
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Rapidly, these concerns became transmuted into the vastly expanded call for English language proficiency. Parents became involved as they pressed for education that would guarantee their offspring opportunities to participate in international economic development. Regrettably, there were as many versions of the tale as there were participants. Although it is difficult to identify a prototypical case, Iceland is an interesting illustration.
Iceland In 2010, two distinguished Icelanders published a survey in Current Issues in Language Planning; their analysis addressed both the problem faced in polities in which a traditional language has great importance as well as the problem created by a more globally focused world. Prior to the expansion of fast, efficient global communication, the need for individual polities to communicate beyond their own borders simply did not exist; at the same time, the need for broader communication has created a world unimaginable in the not too distant past. Although contemporary North Korea may be the exception that proves the rule, there is no place in the current conception of the world for polities that choose to remain isolated, imprisoned within themselves and completely self-contained. Iceland has often been presented as being the only country within Europe which is monolingual because it has no Indigenous minorities, nor has it had any sizeable immigrant communities. However, the number of immigrants has increased greatly in recent years, making the country less linguistically and ethnically homogenous now than at any other time in its 1000-year history . . . This monograph aims to show how robust purist language policies in Iceland have preserved and modernised Icelandic up until the present time. However, the impact of globalisation and global English has led to the perception that the language is less secure than in the past and has prompted efforts by policy makers towards greater protection of Icelandic, particularly in the domains of education and the media. (Hilmarsson-Dunn and Kristinsson, 2010: 207)
English Instruction The cry for English instruction is virtually universal in Europe, in Asia, in parts of the Middle East, in the island states in the Pacific, in short, in much of the world. Although the polities that constitute Latin America long ago opted for universal Spanish/Portuguese, even there the cry for English has been broadening. To a large extent, this innovation is based on a misconception. English is not actually a global language, although it certainly is the universal language of science and technology and, perhaps, the language of advantage. English has become the dominant foreign (second) language in many polities and the world’s lingua franca in the perception of many ministries of education in polities in Asia and elsewhere (e.g. Alisjahbana, 1971; Choi and Spolsky, 2007; Crystal, 2003; Gonzalez, 1989; Graddol, 1997; Qi, 2009; Rauhala, 2015). In general, English was introduced on the rationale that it was necessary for access to science and technology but, in actual fact, it has not served that end to any significant extent. The ascendancy, then, of English in science and technology is the result of a series of accidents occurring over the past half century, though the roots of those accidents reach back historically over more than 300 years (Kaplan, 2001). Amid the scramble to teach English as a second language to children everywhere, language planning has been called upon to provide the means for doing so. In a general sense, 95
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language planning has been conceived as an effort, usually at national level, to change the language behavior of some population for some stated or implied reason. Although, initial language planning and policy activity sometimes has been characterized as involving a wide range of social and political (i.e., status planning ‒ van Els, 2005) and linguistic (i.e., corpus planning ‒ Liddicoat, 2005) input to arrive at planning decisions. Because language planning is often perceived as having a national function, actual policy development has tended to focus more narrowly on developing a national/official language within a particular polity. The term polity is used here with intent to signify political entities of any size (smaller than a nation—e.g., American Samoa or Puerto Rico within the United States; Hong Kong within the People’s Republic of China—or larger than a nation—e.g., The African Union, The European Union, UNESCO) acting more or less independently in the context to design and implement language policy. Such, language planning within a particular polity often has as its focus the learning of a single common national/official language and/or a single minority language (or a small group of minority languages) and, therefore, the responsibility for language planning is often delegated to the education sector (i.e., acquisition or language-in-education planning occurs ‒ Baldauf and Kaplan, 2005). See, for example Creese et al. (2008) as well as: Crowley (2000 ‒ Vanuatu) Daoud (2001 ‒ Tunisia) Djité (2000 ‒ Côte d’Ivoire) Gynan (2001 ‒ Paraguay) Hornberger (1989 ‒ Peru) King and Haboud (2002 – Ecuador) Mangubhai and Mugler (2003 ‒ Fiji), Medgyes and Miklósy (2005 – Hungary)
Planning Language Teaching Languages implicating small populations may be ignored with impunity. Such considerations (having obvious economic implications) determine which of a multiplicity of minority languages will be addressed by the education sector. The following studies provide examples of this phenomenon: Neustupný and Nekvapil (2003 ‒ The Czech Republic), Tosi (2004 ‒ Italy) Kamwangamalu (2001 ‒ South Africa), Nyati-Ramahobo (2000 ‒ Botswana) In additional planning activities, polities may take measures to increase the prestige of various languages within their borders (cf. Ager, 2005). These four types of planning activities affect the sociocultural context or linguistic ecology in which all languages coexist. Language planning is commonly a political—rather than a linguistic—activity; that is, statusplanning decision making occurs in the political sector rather than in the education sector, even when the planning task has been allocated to the education sector (Baldauf and Kaplan, 2003). Such decision making is constrained by a variety on nonlinguistic considerations, but certainly by budgetary considerations, by considerations governed by the rigidity of the academic calendar and of the academic structure, and by considerations dictated by the dominant philosophy of education—that is, by decisions about: What languages will be taught? When and for how long will they be taught? What population sectors will supply teachers?
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What population sectors will supply students? Will the teachers and students who engage in the activity be selected on the basis of their readiness? As van Els (2005: 989) has pointed out: the normal practice in second language learning and teaching planning—as in all education planning, for all we know—still is for uninformed laymen to develop policies without any recourse to empirical findings or expert advice. Kaplan and Baldauf (2003) have argued that allocation of language planning to the education sector must of necessity have limited potential for success, because: 1. Only a single generation of children attends the educational institutions of a polity at a given time; 2. Adults beyond the age of compulsory schooling are, by definition, exempt from the effort to induce some given new language behavior; 3. The education sector is often relatively under-resourced in financial and manpower terms; 4. The education sector is internally focused; 5. The education sector is isolated; that is, its efforts do not often affect other governmental sectors; 6. The education sector, although it is a feeder of manpower to the private sector, has no direct influence on the behavior of the private sector; 7. The education sector rarely has: • • •
the leisure or the resources to train teachers appropriately, the resources to develop appropriate teaching and assessment materials, and the resources to undertake appropriate developmental activities necessary to understand who should learn the language, how long such teaching/learning should take and what levels of proficiency may realistically be expected.
8. Should the education sector seek assistance from abroad, that assistance is commonly organized by the donor without understanding the needs of the client. Furthermore, and more importantly, the education sector is rarely concerned with all the languages that coexist within a given polity and certainly not with the co-occurrence of those languages in proximate polities; rather, its attention is riveted on the national/official language and, perhaps, on one or two larger minority languages or foreign languages in that polity. There is rarely any understanding on the part of planners that modifications in any of the languages of the polity are likely to have unpredictable consequences with respect to all the other languages in the polity. Finally, the effect of such policy and planning on languages in proximate polities is only very rarely a consideration (but see Ashmah Haji, O., 1976, for Malay/Indonesian and Willemyns, 1997, for French-Flemish). The dilemma with which education ministries (and the planners who work in such organizations) contend is very much a product of the self-defining ‘one-nation/one-language’ myth. That myth is a product of the notion that national unity is completely dependent on the existence of a single universal language within the geopolitical boundaries of the state and that
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the entire population must be homogenized linguistically to assure universal communication that is deemed essential to national unity (and, more recently, to national security). This matter has played out most interestingly in the histories of some contemporary soviet states (e.g., North Korea, the Soviet Union—see Kaplan and Baldauf, 2011), but also in other states (see, e.g., Chua, 2010). In addition, the one-nation/one language myth, operating in conjunctions with geopolitical issues, suggests that, when two nations in fact share a particular language, it is expedient to designate the language with different names (Hindi/Urdu for India and Pakistan or Serbian/Croatian ensuing from the breakup of former Yugoslavia). That particular mythology may lead to a gross misunderstanding of the nature of literacy and of the potential benefits said to be implicit in bilingualism. Despite the rather narrow perception of language in some governmental agencies, languages interact with one another both within geopolitical structures and across the artificial borders between them. Mühlhäusler (1996: 2000) has examined language planning and language ecology in the Pacific Basin, particularly in relation to the presence of pidgins and creoles, but also more generically. He notes that linguistic ecologies provide a ‘structured diversity’ in a particular area and that the first manifestations of . . . linguistic imperialism is not the reduction of the quantity of Indigenous languages but the destruction of the region’s linguistic ecology, a fact often overlooked by those who write about language decline. (1996: 77)
Disrupting Language Ecologies The issue of creating a sustainable language ecology, with all its biological and ecological metaphors, as a utopian resolution of minority language rights has been fiercely debated in the context of language policy and planning (see, e.g. May, 2005, for a summary; see also Pennycook, 2004.) Linguistic ecology constitutes the real language planning and policy problem in many situations. A polity may plan changes in a particular language without understanding that its planning may have an unknown impact on that particular language in proximate polities or in those polities elsewhere in the world in which the particular language has some role. France’s Loi Toubon [law 94–665 of 4 August 1994], for example, which mandated specific changes in French usage, had impact not only on the French language in France, but on the French language in all those other participants in Francophonie in Africa, Asia, and the Pacific as well as in all those polities in which French is a favored foreign language, taught through the education sector. Language ecologies may also be disrupted or altered through colonization (and/or neocolonialization), when new languages (and new language functions) may be introduced into the local linguistic ecology; for example, when European languages were introduced into non-European context, or when Arabic intruded into Pashto, Tajiki or Uzbeki, or Chinese intruded into Bahasa Indonesian, Japanese, Korean or Vietnamese. In addition, ecologies were disrupted when literacy in the colonizers language was introduced (whether or not literacy in the local vernacular was available). Since colonization was often accompanied by the intrusion of some particular religious view—for example, • • • 98
Christianity in parts of Africa, the Americas and the Pacific; Islam in the Middle East, Central Asia and North Africa; Buddhism, Confucianism in Asia, etc.
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the often-present missionary activity had some influence through two separate forms of language-related activity: •
On the one hand, language spread, as in the spread of the new language (one not previously part of the language ecology) through direct proselytization accompanied by the spread of literacy through the teaching of the word of God in the colonial language, without benefit of translation;
•
On the other hand, language translation, as in Christian missionary activity, the translation of the gospel into the Indigenous language(s), resulting in the introduction and spread of literacy in languages previously unwritten in populations not accustomed to dealing with written material.
Translation activity created another intrusion into the language ecology; because missionaries were rarely trained linguists, and because their functions were inherently pragmatic, their practical requirement for a ‘standard’ Indigenous language created a misperception of the Indigenous language, resulting in the creation of a new language in the ecology (Makoni, 1998; Masagara, 1997). Even when misconceived ‘translation’ did not result in the creation of a ‘new’ language, it did result in a new pidgin, a language form that morphed into a new Creole (see, e.g., Crowley, 2000). The role of English and its effect on language ecologies is presently being debated. Some researchers have suggested that English is a killer language destroying minority language ecologies (Skutnabb-Kangas, 2000; Phillipson, 1992). Others have argued that, through its econocultural functions, English has become a world language (Brutt-Griffler, 2002). Whether or not English has become a world language, it has created an increasing demand for English while exerting pressures on language ecologies. Although, at the national level, this may lead to the sort of stable bilingualism predicted by Brutt-Griffler for Asia and Africa, when English is added to an already wide range of languages, its increasing inclusion in the curriculum must, by definition, take time from subjects, often other languages, thus altering the language ecology. The issue of language change and the alteration of the world’s economic system, together with easier access to mass media and the Internet, have made English the lingua franca and increasingly the de facto second national language in many polities. (See Table 6.1 for selected illustrations from Asia.) At the present time, as the pace of language change has accelerated, and as languages have been in contact over an increasing number of other languages, the impact of changes on language ecologies has become more noticeable. In addition, planned language change has become a formal function in many polities, adding to the pressures for change operational within language ecology.
Conclusion Language planning as an academic activity has gone through a number of changes over the term of its existence, starting in the 1960s. The early abduction of language planning by educational language planners, and eventually by planners of foreign language education and subsequently attenuated to English, allegedly as a global language, has to a large extent precluded the development of ecological concerns. As a result, it is virtually unthinkable to consult the speakers who are to be educated to English proficiency; equally unlikely is any concern for the effect of English on minority languages in those polities where English 99
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Table 6.1 Characteristics of Southeast and East Asian polities Polity Bangladesh Brunei Darussalam China, PRC
Population (Est. July 07) 150,448,339 374,577 1,321,851,888
Hong Kong, SAR Indonesia
6,980,412 234,693,997
Japan
127,433,494
Korea South
49,044,790
Malaysia
24,821,286
Philippines Singapore
4,553,009
Taiwan
22,858,872
Vietnam
85,262,356
Languages
Number
Bangla, English
Role of English Second/ foreign National
Malay, English, Chinese Mandarin, Yue (Cantonese), Wu, Minbei, Xiang, Gan, Hakka, over 120 minority languages officially recognized Cantonese, English, Mandarin
120+
First foreign
Bahasa Indonesia, Javanese + 418–569 Indigenous Japanese (13 varieties); AinuRyûkyûan dialects Korean (2 diversifying varieties North/South); English Bahasa Malaysia, (English), Tamil, Chinese varieties, Iban, Kadazan + 80–138 Indigenous Filipino (English), 0120 Indigenous (English), Mandarin, Hokkien, Cantonese, Teochew, 4 Malay varieties, Tamil, 8 Indian varieties Mandarin, Tai yu, Hakka, English 18 aboriginal languages Vietnamese, Chinese, French, English, Khmer, Hmong
419
First foreign
3
First foreign
2
First foreign
First foreign
83
L2
121
Official
18
Official
21
First foreign
First foreign
Sources: Kaplan and Baldauf (2003: 5); Zhou, M. L. (2003: 23); World Factbook (2013)
has been introduced, or the effect of English on the national languages implicated. And little consideration has been expended on the impact of the attempt to introduce global English not only on languages within the given polity but on languages in neighboring polities, let alone globally. Consequently, the various attempts to acknowledge the global role of English have, to a greater extent, been destructive rather than constructive. In more recent times—essentially in the 21st century—there appears to be greater recognition of the 100
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congruity of proximate languages. Although the attempts to validate global English continue, there appears to be only a modest effort to authenticate the effect of globalization on other languages in the environment. To some extent the problem results from a greater global influence and a failure to recognize that English appears to be global only in a rather limited number of genres—science, technology, such international activities as air and ship travel4 and media access. Editors of academic journals prefer publication in English, sometimes to the disadvantage of both subject and Indigenous research. Despite the retrogression implicit in historical influences, ecolinguistics had begun to play a larger role in language planning. It is to be hoped that the broadening activity will continue.
Further Reading Perhaps the only way to keep up with current research is to seek our anthologies. E. Hinkel has produced two related volumes and is currently engaged in creating a third; although those volumes go beyond language planning and ecolinguistics, they do also subsume language teaching and a number of related matters. I recommend the use of all three as a means to broaden one’s understanding across many interrelated disciplines:
E. Hinkel (ed.) (2005), Handbook of Research in Second Language Teaching and Learning. Mahwah, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum. E. Hinkel (ed.) (2011), Handbook of Research in Second Language Teaching and Learning: Vol. II. New York, London: Routledge. E. Hinkel (ed.) (2017). Handbook of Research in Second Language Teaching and Learning: Vol. III. New York, London: Routledge.
Notes 1 In a social gathering in Tokyo in 1998, I encountered a professional economist who had worked for the Japanese Ministry of Economics for many years and who had, in the course of his duties, negotiated on behalf of Japan in a wide variety of multilingual settings. He reported that such negotiation was commonly carried on in English, even though English was not the native language of either side in the negotiations. He observed that the teaching of ‘standard’ English to Japanese had been ineffective; he urged that what he designated as ‘broken’ English be taught, because that was the variety most commonly used in the spheres of activity in which he had engaged. 2 The term minority language is, in this case, frequently defined on the basis of the census population of speakers; thus, in the United States, for example, Spanish is defined as a minority language, even though, according to the 2010 census, the number of speakers is approaching a sheer majority of the national population. The census makes very clear that it does not consider Hispanic to be a race; consequently it asks people whether they consider themselves to be of Hispanic, Latino or Spanish origin. In total, 16.7% of people identified themselves as Hispanic—just over 50 million people. 3 Critical discourse analysis (CDA) is an interdisciplinary approach to the study of discourse viewing language as a form of social practice. Assuming that social practice and linguistic practice overlap one another, investigating how societal power relations are established and reinforced through language use. The Lancaster school of linguists, including Norman Fairclough, draws from social theory—with contributions from, e.g., Karl Marx, Antonio Gramsci, Jürgen Habermas and Michael Foucault, among others—to examine ideologies and power relations in discourse. This school developed CDA (particularly in Teun van Dijk’s and Ruth Wodak’s psychological versions) as a sociocognitive interface between social structures and discourse structures. 4 For example, Pergamon publishes a volume entitled Seaspeak Training Manual, adopted by the United Nations, providing the full official recommendations for international maritime communication in essential English for use in VHF radio.
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Rubin, J. and B. H. Jernudd (eds.) (1971), Can Language Be Planned? Sociolinguistic Theory and Practice for Developing Nations. Honolulu: University of Hawai’i Press. Santos, B. D. S. (2006), ‘Globalizations’, Theory, Culture and Society, 23: 393–399. Skutnabb-Kangas, T. (2000), Linguistic Genocide in Education—or Worldwide Diversity and Human Rights? Mahwah, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum. Skutnabb-Kangas, T. and Phillipson, R. (eds.) (1994), Linguistic Human Rights: Overcoming Linguistic Discrimination. Berlin: Mouton. Steger, M. B. (2005), Globalism: Market Ideology Meets Terrorism. Lanham: Rowman and Littlefield. Tönnies, F. (1905), ‘The present problems of social structure’, American Journal of Sociology, 10(5): 569–588. Tosi, A. (2004), ‘The language situation in Italy’, in R. B. Kaplan and R. B. Baldauf, Jr. (eds.), Current Issues in Language Planning. Vol. 5, no. 3, pp. 247–335. van Els, T. (2001), ‘The European Union, its institutions and its languages: Some language political observations’, Current Issues in Language Planning, 2: 311–360. van Els, T. (2005), ‘Status planning for learning and teaching’, in E. Hinkel (ed.), Handbook of Research in Second Language Teaching and Learning. Mahwah, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum, pp. 971–991. Weinrich, H. (2001), ‘Economy and Ecology in Language’, in A. Fill and P. Mühlhäusler (eds.), The Ecolinguistics Reader: Language, Ecology and Environment. London, New York: Continuum, pp. 91–100. Willemyns, R. (1997), ‘Language shift through erosion: The case of French-Flemish “Westhoek” ’, Journal of Multilingual and Multicultural Development, 18(1): 54–66. World Factbook 2013–2014 (2013),Washington, DC: Central Intelligence Agency. Wright, S. (2004), Language Policy and Language Planning From Nationalism to Globalisation. New York: Palgrave Macmillan. Zhou, M. L. (2003), Multilingualism in China: The Politics of Writing Reforms for Minority Languages, 1949–2002. Berlin: Mouton de Gruyter.
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I. B. Language Contact (Bilingualism and Multilingualism) and Contact Languages
7 Individual and Societal Bilingualism and Multilingualism Sabine Ehrhart
Introduction and Definitions My contribution is located at the crossroads between linguistic diversity at the individual and at the collective level. The disciplines that represent those levels, namely sociolinguistics and psycholinguistics, are no longer considered separately but rather seen as tightly knit together and standing in mutual interaction. The use of language or languaging (Swain, 2006) is first of all an individual activity, but it makes sense only when it is inserted into communication (oral, written, immediate or with a certain time lag) with others (Kramsch, 2002). From an ecological standpoint, we are aware of the fact that both sides of the communicative encounter are changed by the contact: the individual by the society where he or she communicates and the wider community by the individual speech acts of its members or the people from other linguistic groups that enter into contact with them. One could even say that the community is built up of the acts of languaging performed by its members and their intra- and inter-group interactions. In Europe and the parts of the world colonized by people of European origin, the monolingual habitus (Gogolin, 1994) prevailed as a concept for language-planning perspectives during important parts of the 19th and 20th centuries in a parallel movement to the creation of the nation-state. In these contexts, language policy was often based on one language of reference (the one situated closest to power), as we see, for example, in France or Spain, despite the multilingual character of these countries. Likewise, monolingualism was the usual assumption underlying scientific publications, and contributions acknowledging a multilingual world were the exception. Indeed, it is only recently that changes in perception and evaluation of the multilingual space have started to take place. When reading publications on linguistic diversity, it is clearly evident that they are organized in a variety of different ways; they formulate their research questions and they organize their methodology in different ways according to the geographical and anthropological context of the researcher or the research team involved. This variable seems to be much stronger than the environment of the research setting. Some boundary spanners (a term coined by Barner-Rasmussen et al. in 2014 for the diversity management of language and culture in the professional space), who are often researchers with an international biography, try to build connections between different linguistic and cultural groups. Much more frequently, however, regional or national islets of knowledge coexist without active networks of exchange
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or with a very weak relationship with one another. There remains also the contradiction that authors promoting linguistic and cultural diversity frequently use English when they want to give global visibility to their publications (Weber and Horner, 2012; Ricento, 2015). Nevertheless, even in the present-day climate of globalized exchange, the choice of English is not always an adequate solution. First of all, access to English is not the same for everybody and questions of fairness are raised concerning the ways multilingual people use English when communicating with people from another linguistic background (Gazzola and Grin, 2013). Moreover, even multilingual researchers with plural identities do not necessarily express or feel the same (Pavlenko, 2007) when using different languages from their repertoires (Busch, 2006). Stoike-Sy (2015) has shown that the choice of language in a bi- or trilingual environment (in her case trilingual study programs) can liberate thoughts and feelings in one language that the speaker would not necessarily be able to express in the other(s) and thus create a larger variety of possible thoughts; this is not directly linked to the grammatical command of, or competence in, the languages spoken by a person.
Historical Perspectives Polyphony was not the most popular type of music discussed in publications in the field of linguistics during the 20th century, and when linguistic diversity was dealt with, it was often evaluated very negatively. A psychological conference held in (an already reasonably multilingual) Luxemburg in 1926 warned of the great danger for the human brain if it was exposed to more than one language. During the same period and in a comparable spirit, Jespersen, a Danish Professor of English, stated: It is, of course, an advantage for a child to be familiar with two languages but without doubt the advantage may be, and generally is, purchased too dear. First of all the child in question hardly learns either of the two languages as perfectly as he would have done if he had limited himself to one. It may seem on the surface, as if he talked just like a native, but he does not really command the fine points of language (. . .). Secondly, the brain effort required to master the two languages instead of one certainly diminishes the child’s power of learning other things which might and ought to be learnt. (Jespersen, 1922: 48) In linguistics or in educational sciences, but also among the general public, bilingualism continued to be seen as a condition to be avoided, and as a danger to social cohesion and individual balance. Indeed, if a subject spoke more than two languages, it was considered even worse. This attitude predominated during the majority of the 20th century and is still represented in some communities and contexts. Later on, a cautious step was taken towards the recognition of linguistic diversity and the emergence of a progressively more positive perception of its existence worldwide can be observed, especially in relation to educational sciences and language learning and acquisition. The handbook series edited by Hornberger (2008) gives an exhaustive summary of this evolution. Due to the then rather exclusive definition of a bilingual as a person with the perfect mastery of two languages, scientific studies on bi- or multilingualism and second language acquisition were seen as separate fields and learners were not considered as potential or already existing bilinguals. Herdina and Jessner (2002: 58) emphasize the important role played by François Grosjean (1985 and other publications) in bringing together both views. In this vein, the authors propose a preliminary definition for a combined model: 110
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we would like to suggest that competence be restricted to the field encompassed by the knowledge of a language, whilst the term proficiency—primarily derived from SLA contexts—should be reserved for the consistent outcome of the speaker’s knowledge of how to use a language and the knowledge of a language. (Herdina and Jessner, 2002: 56) The distinction between competence—a capacity ‘sleeping’ in the speaker’s head—and proficiency—the real application of the linguistic items in a conversation, but also the pragmatic knowledge of how and under which circumstances they can or should be used—is very useful to express the link between the individual and the collective sphere. In the same spirit, Brandl and Walsh (1981: 12) distinguish between “multilingualism (the existence of many languages) and polylingualism (the ability to speak more than one language)” within their Australian context. Traditionally, studies on creoles and pidgins (Michaelis et al., 2013a and 2013b) and the description of the language situation of continents other than Europe or North America such as those found in the Atlas of Languages of Intercultural Communication in the Pacific, Asia and the Americas (Wurm et al., 1996) focused on language contact (see also Chapter 2 of this book). More recently, scholars from different continents have tried to deconstruct the concept of language completely, by focusing on their observations of speech habits from Asia, the Pacific or nonstandard English-speaking communities in the Americas. Their aim of reconstituting ad hoc systems serves to convey information in certain circumstances and specific contexts where there is a high motivation to overcome communicative obstacles (Makoni and Pennycook, 2007). It is important to notice that work on linguistic diversity does not wish to stigmatize monolinguals. Rather, its objective is to provide greater insight into the specificity of each language situation, at the individual or at the societal level, by respecting the ecological environment as much as possible by keeping a balance between the language community and the individual speaker. There are situations in which the use of just one linguistic variety is the optimal solution and others where the use of more systems is required. From an ecolinguistic point of view we think that the speaker or hearer adapts to the situation in quite a natural way by means of personal language management or implicit language policy and there is no need to worry about the lack of a language in a situation where finally it is not needed. This pragmatic attitude could be adopted for instance when working on language awareness in school environments. Each pupil could thus be accepted with his or her personal linguistic biography and a person who speaks one language would not be worth less than one with a bigger repertoire or more languages on the list. This is just snapshot of a life situation at a given point and there is always the dynamic potential either to reduce one’s linguistic variety or to augment it, according to the real needs of the environment. In other respects, the results of the symposium on the linguistic integration of adult migrants held in Strasbourg from March 30 to April 1, 2016, came to the conclusion that the embeddedness of language use was one of the most important factors in predicting success in language learning processes (Council of Europe: www.coe.int/en/web/lang-migrants).1 Various terms within the fields of linguistic diversity, language contact and language learning need to be redefined as they are no longer able to reflect the variety of situations of social change. The differentiation between acquisition (in natural settings) and learning of a language (in an institutional frame) is becoming increasingly less clear and the term appropriation, which is used as an umbrella term for both concepts is sometimes the best solution when referring to the evolution of the linguistic repertoire of an individual. 111
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Is ‘mother tongue’ an adequate term to describe a language in a person’s life? What about ‘father tongue,’ which is used in some languages in Eastern European countries? Or ‘stepmother tongue,’ which is used by some Luxembourgers to describe the position of German in Luxembourg? Brandl and Walsh (1981) use the expression “a mother’s tongue,” as in Aboriginal families several people can hold the position of a mother to a child. In contexts where children leave the family early for boarding schools, for instance, or for intensive day care (Seele, 2015), the ‘mother tongue’ is not necessarily the prevailing language in the environment of a person. Multilingualism and plurilingualism have undergone important changes in their definitions. Initially, authors opposed collective and territorial multilingualism to individual and cognitive plurilingualism. This is also the traditional definition used over a long period by the Council of Europe: •
•
Multilingualism refers to the presence in a geographical area, large or small, of more than one ‘variety of language’ i.e. the mode of speaking of a social group whether it is formally recognized as a language or not; in such an area individuals may be monolingual, speaking only their own variety. Plurilingualism refers to the repertoire of varieties of language which many individuals use, and is therefore the opposite of monolingualism; it includes the language variety referred to as ‘mother tongue’ or ‘first language’ and any number of other languages or varieties. Thus in some multilingual areas some individuals are monolingual and some are plurilingual. (www.coe.int/t/dg4/linguistic/Division_EN.asp, © Council of Europe)
In the literature on language diversity, there is some confusion as to the use of both concepts. This is due to the cross-linguistic influence of French and English (Le Nevez et al., 2010: 12–13). Moreover, the intensity of contact between languages and speakers of different linguistic communities has considerably increased over the last few decades, or at least it has been better recognized by the authors of scientific publications and political statements. On the one hand, there is a stronger focus on culture, and bilingualism and biculturalism are seen as interrelated. A future initiative supported by the Council of Europe intends to find indicators of communicative and intercultural competence linked to linguistic proficiency and organized in a way comparable to the CEFR (Common European Framework of Reference for Languages; personal communication by Brian North, publication planned for 2017). On the other hand, languages can no longer be seen as separate units in highly interconnected societies; their relationship is complex and intertwined. For this reason, in some publications and in most official documents of the European Institutions, multilingualism is used to refer to separate linguistic systems, whereas plurilingualism insists on the interconnections between different languages and their speakers or users. For Luxembourg, I propose the term of plurimultilingualism in order to express the fact that one side of the coin cannot be seen without the other; the individual and the social hold each other together. In its description of policies promoting plurilingualism, the Council of Europe insists on the linguistic variety present in the lives of present-day European citizens, and also on the continuous development of their plurilingual repertoire The emphasis from an early stage in Council of Europe projects on successful communication skills, motivated by increasing opportunities for interaction and mobility 112
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in Europe, remains important, but globalisation and internationalisation pose new challenges to social cohesion and integration. Language skills remain essential if individuals are to benefit from opportunities in employment and mobility but they are also necessary to participate actively in the social and political processes which are an integral part of democratic citizenship in the multilingual societies of Council of Europe member states. This increasing focus on language policies for democratic citizenship and social cohesion reflects the priority which the Council of Europe accords to education for citizenship and intercultural dialogue in the 21st century. It is reflected in the goal of education for plurilingual and intercultural citizens capable of interacting in a number of languages across linguistic and cultural boundaries. Council of Europe policy attaches particular importance to the development of plurilingualism—the lifelong enrichment of the individual’s plurilingual repertoire. This repertoire is made up of different languages and language varieties at different levels of proficiency and includes different types of competences. It is dynamic and changes in its composition throughout an individual’s life. The use and development of an individual’s plurilingual competence is possible because different languages are not learned in isolation and can influence each other both in the learning process and communicative use. Education systems need to ensure the harmonious development of learners’ plurilingual competence through a coherent, transversal and integrated approach that takes into account all the languages in learners’ plurilingual repertoire and their respective functions. This includes promoting learners’ consciousness of their existing repertoires and potential to develop and adapt those repertoires to changing circumstances. www.coe.int/t/dg4/linguistic/Division_EN.asp, © Council of Europe These publications deserve to be better known as they indicate innovative ways of practicing democracy, giving people a voice and empowering and respecting otherness by drawing on linguistic resources. Reality is sometimes well behind this type of declaration. For instance, bilingualism is still the main term used in the U.S. context, even if more languages are concerned (Garcίa, 2009). According to Garcίa (personal communication) the use of multilingualism is not widely accepted among the American public and seems to raise some fears. The domains indicated by Spolsky (2009, in this chapter, under further reading) are an interesting tool for defining linguistic diversity according to the contexts where different languages are used, as they focus much more on the situations when they are needed than on the languages as systems. Busch (2006) has worked intensively on the notion of repertoire, a concept also used in the earlier quote in the text by the Council of Europe. It has the advantage of being dynamic and like the Spolsky model it offers the possibility of adaptation to different and changing contexts. The terms of subtractive and additive bilingualism are historical concepts with limited employability in postmodern contexts as they reduce the scope of what they wish to describe. Subtractive bilingualism claims that by learning one additional language one forgets or weakens at least the preceding one(s). Additive bilingualism considers languages as stones that can be added to build a house and it does not take into consideration the reciprocal influence the different systems exert on each other, developments indicated by the new definition of plurilingualism as indicated in the European publications earlier. Therefore, a renewed vision of language and multilingualism is needed to describe communication in a context of linguistic diversity. By departing from Lambert’s ideas from the 1970s, García (2009: 142) comments on the necessary development: “But the subtractive 113
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and additive models of bilingualism have proven to be inadequate to describe the linguistic complexity of the 21st century. On the one hand, the additive model insists on developing a second full language that could be accessed entirely on its own, that is, results in double monolingualism. On the other hand, both models start with, or end in, monolingualism, naming one language as clearly the first, and the additional one as the second.” The concepts of code switching and of matrix languages (Myers-Scotton, 2002) allow the crossing of linguistic borders under certain circumstances, but the languages are still seen as relatively separate entities and their relationship seems to be on terms of competitiveness. Recently, these ideas have been developed further through the term of translanguaging, which has changed the focus of interest of linguistic observation. Ehrhart (2015: 306) raises the following questions concerning this: We should ask ourselves whether the idea of a matrix language in language contact is not restrictive (. . .). Why does there have to be a stronger language in a contact situation? And if one language is stronger in some specific situations, why should we generalize this punctual phenomenon in a long-term or diachronic view? The idea of translanguaging goes much further, as it sees the repertoire of a speaker as a whole: Translanguaging is the act performed by bilinguals of accessing different linguistic features or various modes of what are described as autonomous languages, in order to maximize communicative potential. It is an approach to bilingualism that is centered, not on languages as has often been the case, but on the practices of bilinguals that are readily observable in order to make sense of their multilingual worlds. Translanguaging therefore goes beyond what has been termed code-switching, although it includes it. (Garcίa, 2009: 140) The concept of translanguaging has two important limitations: on the one hand, it still works with languages even while it is aiming at transcending this notion by “dwelling in the border space” (Garcίa, 2016, personal communication). Taking this space as the new center of focus, there is still a trace of diglossia and a hidden demand for more balanced relationships between the participants in communicative situations. On the other hand, however, language management and language policy in educational settings have a long and established tradition of teaching national languages in relative isolation. Publications on language ecology (Creese and Martin, 2003, 2008) present examples in which teachers and students cross the gap between national traditions and present-day diversity in the classroom. Ofelia Garcίa and Li Wei (2014) have also addressed this issue and they give useful indications as to how to become a teacher of students from very different backgrounds in 21st-century society. An ecolinguistic approach to the concept of translanguaging might help to strengthen reflections on fairness in the use of different modes of communication and thus enhance social justice in interaction, with a special benefit for the formerly dominated partners in the interaction.
Critical Issues and Topics Numerous efforts have been made in order to classify types of language contact. Thomason and Kaufman (1988) give a very useful critical overview of the question, with empirical examples of the different kinds of contact between speech communities and their possible 114
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impact on linguistic and communicational structures. Croft offers an interesting classification based on social evolution, with specific types of language contact classified according to the way societies are organized (in bands, tribes, chiefdoms or states) and centripetal and centrifugal forces interweaving and forming patterns of divergence and convergence in the orientation of language change (Croft, 2003a: 1). In the present context, the most attractive part of this text is the indication of the main contexts of human exchange. Depending on the type of contact, the shared linguistic features differ. Economic exchange needs a specific vocabulary in a very limited field, whereas marital exchanges provide a much deeper immersion into a new speech community, and political integration has to clearly address the question of power distribution within a much bigger group. Divergent and convergent movements combine in order to express individual and social identity. During years of fieldwork with speakers of the Voh-Koné group of languages, which represents a linguistic system with impressive ramifications for a relatively small number of speakers living close to each other, and the publication of the dictionary bwatoo-haveke/ haeke (Rivierre et al., 2006), we experienced that not only isolation can be responsible for divergence, but also intense proximity and, associated with this high human concentration, the will to differentiate oneself from one’s neighbors in order to foster one’s own identity. While working with aboriginal communities in Australia, Brandl and Walsh observed two opposite functions of language, namely linking and separating. These function on an individual as well as on a collective level (Brandl and Walsh, 1981: 7–8) with a refined balance between inclusion and exclusion (Brandl and Walsh, 1981: 11). LePage and Tabouret-Keller (1985: 17) describe acts of identity as “processes through which communities came to develop a sense of having a language of their own, and with the reification and totemization of that concept.” This concept is particularly useful for the study of creoles or other contact languages and it shares some common ground with the idea of translanguaging where border zones can become the center of interest and the core area of a new system or a new speech community. Croft (2003b: 55) reminds us that there might very well be negative acts of identity. They might not be as visible as the positive ones, but as effective, as in the case of secret languages. Saville-Troike (1989/2: 14) writes that for the analysis of language, it is necessary to be aware of both sides, i.e., the linking and the boundary-marking force inherent to each communicative act. More recently, researchers have included this interest in boundary crossing and constituting new communicative systems in their work, for instance Otsuji and Pennycook (2010).
Main Research Methods The relationship between the individual and the collective level of linguistic productions is not a research field per se, but rather a way of linking different levels of describing language. For this reason, it combines qualitative with quantitative approaches, with a slight emphasis on the first one: ethnographical methods aiming at the description and the analysis of different types of environments can be enhanced by data from statistical surveys. In the same spirit, the field situates itself mostly on a sociologic meso-level between micro- (individual) and macro-units of human unities. In this field, an interdisciplinary orientation combining sociology and sociolinguistics, geography and dialectology, and migrational linguistics is highly recommended in order to respond to the complexity of the situations observed. Other directions of development are possible (see also the section “Future Directions” below). 115
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Recommendations for Practice The following ideas and suggestions are intended to raise awareness of the diversity of modes in which language and languages are defined in different ethnolinguistic contexts. 1. Personal observation with time variation: observe your language use over one day. In which language(s) do you think when you wake up? What were the language(s) of your dreams (if you can remember them)? To whom do you speak first? Do you talk to yourself? Do you change language according to your communicative partners? In which language(s) is your (digital or traditional) newspaper? And your radio or TV or other access to the news? Do you change your speech habits when you leave the house? Do you change them according to different speech events? If you have the impression that you always speak the same language, can you observe inner variation within this linguistic system? In which language(s) do you count, in which one do you write your shopping list? How do you address animals? Observe also your thoughts and your inner speech. If you use different languages, can you see why certain objects are expressed in one language, and others in another language? Are some activities or some times of the day more difficult for the use of one specific language (when you are tired, when there is a lot of noise around, for written or spoken communication, for listening and reading or for talking and writing)? Do you mix languages or do you keep them separate? Does this change according to your speech partner, the subject or the contexts of the exchange? It is not important to produce an exhaustive list of all your linguistic activities; these observations aim at increasing your general awareness of the diversity of your repertoire. 2. Please think about the following paragraph: Suzanne Romaine (1994: 12) describes the language use in Papua New Guinea in the following way: “[T]he very concept of discrete languages is probably a European cultural artefact fostered by procedures such as literacy and standardization. Any attempt to count distinct languages will be an artefact of classificatory procedures rather than a reflection of communicative practices.” Do you agree with this statement? What are your observations in this field? Is literacy necessary to fully describe a language? Have you experienced situations in which the counting of languages was difficult? 3. Please comment on this quote: We also asserted that the value Aborigines place on the ability to speak more than one langue needs to be acknowledged within the courses offered to them in Australian schools, not only in remote settlements, but also in towns and cities. To deny to any Australian child, but particularly to any Aboriginal child, the opportunity to develop bilingual and multilingual skills, is to diminish one of their uniquely human capacities and, as well, in the case of Aborigines, one of their cultural capacities. (Brandl and Walsh, 1981: 13) Are the education systems in your country (or in the countries you know) prepared for the skills described here? How could we bring together the linguistic norms of school and those of the pupils? How can we help them to understand the existing rules? To what extent is it necessary to adapt our systems to the children? Could you imagine content for classes on teacher education in this field? 116
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4. Please read the following quote and state your opinion of it: Muriel Saville-Troike (1989: 4) claims the following: The ethnographer of communication cannot even presuppose what a speech community other than his own may consider to be ‘language,’ or who or what may ‘speak’ it: ‘language’ for the Ojibwa includes thunder; dogs among the Navajo are said to understand Navajo; the Maori regard musical instruments as able to speak; and drums and shells are channels through which supernatural forces are believed to speak to members of the Afro-Cuban Lucumί religious cult. How far would you go in def ining a language? Where do you see limitations to the term? 5. Project work proposition for several fields of observation/research Observe a public place (train, bus, city square, bakery shop, canteen, etc.) and the languages used by the people who gather there. Do the languages changes during the day? Are there special hours for special languages or language combinations? Are all the languages spoken aloud? Which ones are used for communications on mobile phones? With children and in a family context? In a commercial context? Have a look at the signs (official/top down or bottom up): are they produced in one language only or in several languages? Are the languages combined or presented in a separate way? Do all the languages have the same space, the same format, and the same importance as the provider of a message? Please be aware of ethical regulations and do not put people in a situation that would be harmful to them. Please do not take pictures or make recordings without asking explicitly for authorization. If permission is granted, you must indicate the audience for which you are collecting the information and you also have to inform the person giving permission about how you will store the data and when you promise to destroy them by, and you have to keep a record of this consent. Anonymous field notes are easier to put together and in most cases their informative worth is sufficient, at least for short surveys. Among the earlier suggestions for brief research activities or introspection, which were the ones that were easy to conduct for you? Where did you have problems, and why? Are there contradictions between the way you see language and communication through speech and the ones presented here? Has there been a change in your view on linguistic behavior or the use of languages?
Future Directions From an ecological point of view, in the educational setting more studies are urgently needed, particularly for specific settings and highly complex societies. At the time of publication of this book, this point is particularly salient when addressing the question of how to build links between the huge groups of migrants, refugees and asylum seekers arriving on European shores and their potential host countries and their representatives on this continent. There are numerous potential ways of further developing ecolinguistics as a crossroads between the individual person and society, mainly in an interdisciplinary orientation. It is the role of ecolinguistics to foster exchange and communication between communicative partners of different origins in various social contexts. Some publications on psychology show an interest in adopting an ecolinguistic point of view when working with groups of people with communicative problems in their social environment. Cebulj (2014) hints at the common points between multilingualism and religion from a holistic and pedagogical view. Creolistics and the study of contact languages continue to draw upon ecolinguistics in order to situate themselves in the struggle between 117
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endangerment and empowerment. The research on linguistic landscapes by Shohamy and Gorter (2009) and Shohamy et al. (2010) is closely related to questions of language ecology. This approach is helpful from a pedagogical point of view or more generally in contexts where communication between partners of different backgrounds should be encouraged. Pennycook and Otsuji (2015) give it an interesting and innovative orientation by including other senses than the visual one (urban smellscapes) and other supports than only the written word. The ecolinguistics of the work space is a challenging field. Management sciences have just started to (re)discover the importance of language for human relationships, also in professional settings (Piekkari et al., 2014), and the introduction of ecolinguistic concepts like translanguaging (Trepos et al., 2016) is a promising development. The discussion of culture and accommodation not only on a national, but also on a company level is a challenging question for future research (Barner-Rasmussen et al., 2014). Ecolinguistics shares common interests with the emerging field of border studies, which critically analyzes the concept of the border as a limitation boundary, as a permeable line and the margin as the potential center of a newly created space. As a science that shows that all partners of the interaction emerge changed from the encounter, ecolinguistics is particularly capable here, more so than other branches of linguistics working with dichotomous perceptions opposing the individual and society. Ecolinguistics brings researchers of different disciplines and geographical environments together, it enables them to exchange and to enhance their mutual understanding or to discuss at least in a transparent way the points in which they differ. It is a force of relationship urgently needed in our societies, which tend to emphasize centrifugal over centripetal forces.
Further Reading Garcίa, O. and Baker, C. (eds.) (2007), Bilingual Education: An Introductory Reader. Clevedon: Multilingual Matters. With contributions by the main authors in the field of language diversity management in educational spaces. Hornberger, N. (2008), Encyclopedia of Language and Education. 2nd edition. 10 volumes. New York: Springer Editions. In all of the 10 volumes of this collection, articles of interest for ecolinguists can be found, not only in volume 9 which is specifically dedicated to this field. Piekkari, R., Welch, D. and Welch, L. (2014), Language in International Business: The Multilingual Reality of Global Business Expansion. Cheltenham: Edward Elgar. Helps to understand central questions of language management in contexts of language contact not studied so much yet by ecolinguists. Ricento, T. (ed.) (2015), Language Policy and Political Economy: English in a Global Context. Oxford: Oxford University Press. An inspiring book with a large variety of positions towards language use in times of globalization. It also represents the voice of weaker communities from a sociopolitical point of view. Spolsky, B. (2009), Language Management. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. A very complete presentation of the different domains where individual and collective multilingualism can meet each other.
Note 1 The Council of Europe is an international organization based in Strasbourg with 47 member countries. According to its founders, it was set up to promote democracy and protect human rights and the rule of law in Europe. It should not be confused with the European Council composed of the heads of state of the 28 members of the European Union. 118
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References Barner-Rasmussen, W., Ehrnrooth, M., Koveshnikov, A. and Mäkelä, K. (2014), ‘Cultural and language skills as resources for boundary spanning within the MNC’, Journal of International Business Studies, 45(7): 886–905. Brandl, M. M. and Walsh, M. (1981), Speakers of Many Tongues: Towards Understanding Multilingualism Among Aboriginal Australians, Centre for Resource and Environmental Studies, Australian National University, Canberra (Paper read at the Symposium Language in Social and Cultural Context, Canberra, August 26, 1981). Can also be found as: Walsh, M. and Brandl, M. M. (1982), ‘Speakers of many tongues: Towards understanding multilingualism among Aboriginal Australians’, International Journal of the Sociology of Language, 36: 71–81. Busch, B. (2006), ‘Language biographies—approaches to multilingualism in education and linguistic research’, in B. Busch, A. Jardine and A. Tjoutuku (eds.), Language Biographies for Multilingual Learning, PREAESA Occasional Papers, no. 24, Cape Town: PREAESA, pp. 5–17. Calvet, J.-L. (2006), Towards an Ecology of World Languages. Cambridge: Polity Press. Cebulj, C. (2014), ‘Religion als Suchsprache: Mehrsprachlicher Religionsunterricht als religionspädagogische Lernchance’, in M. Lintner (ed.), God in Question: Religious Language and Secular Languages. With a foreword by Peter Hünemann. Bressanone, Brixen: A. Wagner, pp. 165–175. Clyne, M. (2003), Dynamics of Language Contact. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Council of Europe: www.coe.int/en/web/lang-migrants (downloaded April 4, 2016). Council of Europe: www.coe.int/t/dg4/linguistic/Division_EN.asp (downloaded February 21, 2016). Creese, A. and Martin, P. (2003), Multilingual Classroom Ecologies. Clevedon: Multilingual Matters. Creese, A. and Martin, P. (2008), ‘Classroom ecologies: A case study from a Gujarati Complementary school in England’, in A. Creese, P. Martin and N. H. Hornberger (eds.), Encyclopedia of Language and Education. Vol. 9: Ecology of Language. New York: Springer, pp. 263–272. Croft, W. (2003a), ‘Social evolution and language change’, www.unm.edu/~wcroft/Papers/SocLing. pdf (last accessed February 16, 2016). Croft, W. (2003b), ‘Mixed languages and acts of identity: An evolutionary approach’, in Y. Matras and P. Bakker (eds.), The Mixed Language Debate: Theoretical and Empirical Advances. Berlin: Mouton de Gruyter, pp. 41–72. Ehrhart, S. (2015), ‘Continua of Language Contact’, in G. Stell and K. Yakpo (eds.), Code-Switching Between Structural and Sociolinguistic Perspectives (= FRIAS Linguae and Litterae. Vol. 43). Berlin: De Gruyter, pp. 305–316. Ehrhart, S. and Mühlhäusler, P. (2007), ‘Pidgins and Creoles in the Pacific’, in O. Miyaoka, O. Sakiyama and M. Krauss (eds.), The Vanishing Languages of the Pacific Rim. Oxford: Oxford University Press, pp. 18–143. García, O. (2009), Bilingual Education in the 21st Century—a Global Perspective. New York: Wiley-Blackwell. Garcίa, O. and Wei, L. (2014), Translanguaging: Language, Bilingualism and Education. Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan. Gazzola, M. and Grin, F. (2013), ‘Is ELF more effective and fair than translation? An evaluation of the EU’s multilingual regime’, International Journal of Applied Linguistics, 23(1): 93–107. Gogolin, I. (1994), Der monolinguale Habitus der multilingualen Schule. Münster, New York: Waxmann Verlag. Grosjean, F. (1985), ‘The bilingual as a competent but specific speaker-hearer’, Journal of Multilingual and Multicultural Development, 6: 467–477. (Also in: M. Cruz-Ferreira (ed.) (2010), Multilingual Norms. Frankfurt am Main: Peter Lang, pp. 19–31). Herdina, P. and Jessner, U. (2002), A Dynamic Model of Multilingualism: Perspectives of Change in Psycholinguistics. Clevedon: Multilingual Matters. Hornberger, N. (2008), Encyclopedia of Language and Education. 2nd edition. 10 volumes. New York: Springer Editions. Jespersen, O. (1922), Language: Its Nature, Development and Origin. London: Allen and Unwin. 119
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Kramsch, C. (ed.) (2002), Language Acquisition and Language Socialization—Ecological Perspectives. London, New York: Continuum. Le Nevez, A., Hélot, C. and Ehrhart, S. (2010), ‘Negotiating plurilingualism in the classroom’, in S. Ehrhart, C. Hélot and A. Le Nevez (eds.), Plurilinguisme et formation des enseignants: Plurilingualism and Teacher Education. Frankfurt am Main: Peter Lang, pp. 5–21. Lepage, R. B. and Tabouret-Keller, A. (1985), Acts of Identity: A Creole Based Study of Language and Ethnicity. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Makoni, S. and Pennycook, A. (eds.) (2007), Disinventing and Reconstructing Languages. Clevedon: Multilingual Matters. Michaelis, S. M., Maurer, P., Haspelmath, M. and Huber, M. (eds.) (2013a), Atlas of Pidgin and Creole Language Structures Online. Leipzig: Max Planck Institute for Evolutionary Anthropology, http:// apics-online.info (accessed February 2, 2016). Michaelis, S., Maurer, P., Haspelmath, M. and Huber, M. (eds.) (2013b), The Survey of Pidgin and Creole Languages. Vol. I–III. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Myers-Scotton, C. (2002), Contact Linguistics: Bilingual Encounters and Grammatical Outcomes. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Otsuji, E. and Pennycook, A. (2010), ‘Metrolingualism: Fixity, fluidity and language in flux’. International Journal of Multilingualism, 7(3): 240–254. Pavlenko, A. (2007), Emotions and Multilingualism. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Pennycook, A. and Otsuji, E. (2015), Metrolingualism: Language in the City. London, New York: Routledge. Piekkari, R., Welch, D. E. and Welch, L.S. (2014). Language in International Business: The Multilingual Reality of Global Business Expansion. Cheltenham: Edward Elgar Publishing. Ricento, T. (ed.) (2015), Language Policy and Political Economy: English in a Global Context. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Rivierre, J.-C., Ehrhart, S. and Diela, R. (2006), ‘Le bwatoo et les dialectes de la région de Koné (Nouvelle-Calédonie)’, Collection Langues et Cultures du Pacifique, no. 16, Peeters, Paris (Dictionnaire). Romaine, S. (1994), Language in Society: An Introduction to Sociolinguistics. Oxford, New York: Oxford University Press. Saville-Troike, M. (1989), The Ethnography of Communication: An Introduction. Oxford: Blackwell. Seele, C. (2015), ‘Mehrsprachigkeit in der frühkindlichen Bildung und Betreuung’, Politik, 357: 16–19. Shohamy, E., Ben-Rafael, E. and Barni, M. (eds.) (2010), Linguistic Landscape in the City. Clevedon: Multilingual Matters. Shohamy, E. and Gorter, D. (eds.) (2009), Linguistic Landscape: Expanding the Scenery. New York: Routledge. Spolsky, B. (2009), Language Management. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Stoike-Sy, R. (2015), Die Herausforderung der dritten Sprache—eine Grounded-Theory-Studie zu sprachlichen Praktiken und Repräsentationen von Mehrsprachigkeit bei Studierenden der dreisprachigen Master an der Universität Luxemburg. Doctoral dissertation, Peter Lang, Frankfurt. Swain, M. (2006), ‘Languaging, agency and collaboration in advanced second language proficiency’, in H. Byrnes (ed.), Advanced Language Learning: The Contribution of Halliday and Vygotsky. London: Continuum, pp. 95–108. lrc.cornell.edu/events/past/2011-2012/papers11/swain.pdf (last accessed February 14, 2016). Thomason, S. G. and Kaufman, T. (1988), Language Contact, Creolization, and Genetic Linguistics. Berkeley: University of California Press. Trepos, J.-Y., Ehrhart, S., Hamez, G., Langinier, H., Polzin-Haumann, C. and Reissner, C. (2016). ‘Frontières linguistiques et communautés de travail: Un bilinguisme à l’épreuve du changement industriel’. Questions de communication, no. 29. PUN—Editions universitaires de Lorraine, Metz. Weber, J.-J. and Horner, K. (2012), Introducing Multilingualism: A Social Approach. London: Routledge. Wurm, S., Mühlhäusler, P. and Tryon, D. (eds.) (1996), Atlas of Languages of Intercultural Communication in the Pacific, Asia, and the Americas. Berlin: Mouton de Gruyter. 120
8 Linguistic Imperialism and the Consequences for Language Ecology Robert Phillipson and Tove Skutnabb-Kangas
Introduction The study of linguistic imperialism focuses on how and why certain languages dominate internationally, and attempts to account for such dominance in a theoretically informed way. Many issues can be clarified: the role of language policy in empires (British, French, Japanese, Spanish, etc.); how languages from Europe were established on other continents, generally at the expense of local languages; whether the languages that colonialism took to Africa and Asia now form a useful bond with the international community, and are necessary for national unity internally—or are they a bridgehead for Western interests, permitting the continuation of marginalization and exploitation? In a globalizing world, has English shifted from serving Anglo-American interests into a more equitable instrument of communication for diverse users? Or do U.S. corporate and military dominance worldwide and the neoliberal economy constitute a new form of empire that consolidates a single imperial language? Can the active suppression of languages such as Kurdish in Turkey or of Tibetan and Uyghur in China be seen as linguistic imperialism? With the increasing importance of China globally, will the vigorous promotion of Chinese internationally convert into a novel form of linguistic imperialism? And what are the consequences for language ecology? We endorse Wendel’s definition of language ecology (2005: 51): “The ecological approach to language considers the complex web of relationships that exist between the environment, languages, and their speakers.” We understand ‘environment’ here as not only the social (including linguistic) environment but also the physical and biological environments. There has been a tendency of many sociolinguists to pay only lip-service to the last two, and to focus only on social concerns. They see the eco- in ecolinguistics/language ecology as a relationship within and between various languages, speakers of these languages, and their sociocultural and economic contexts. Linguistic imperialism entails the following (Phillipson, 1992, 2009): •
Linguistic imperialism interlocks with a structure of imperialism in culture, education, the media, communication, the economy, politics, and military activities
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•
• • • • • • •
It is a form of linguicism,1 a favoring of one language over others in ways that parallel societal structuring through racism, sexism and class: linguicism serves to privilege users of the standard forms of the dominant language, which represent convertible linguistic capital In essence it is about exploitation, injustice, inequality and hierarchy that privileges those able to use the dominant languages It is structural: more material resources and infrastructure are accorded to the dominant languages (and their speakers) than to others It is ideological: beliefs, attitudes and imagery glorify the dominant languages, stigmatize others and rationalize the linguistic hierarchy as beneficial for speakers of other languages The dominance is hegemonic, it is internalized and naturalized as being ‘normal’ This entails unequal rights for speakers of different languages Learning the dominant language(s) is often subtractive, proficiency in the imperial language and in learning it in education involving its consolidation at the expense of other languages Linguistic imperialism is invariably contested and resisted
Critical Issues and Topics in a Historical Perspective The term imperialism derives from the Latin imperium, covering military and political control by a dominant power over subordinated peoples and territories. Using terms like imperialism is contentious, because “[d]efining something as imperial or colonial today almost always implies hostility to it, viewing it as inherently immoral or illegitimate” (Howe, 2002: 9). Whether linguistic imperialism is in place in any given context is an empirical question that analysis of the variables listed earlier can clarify. Many of the variables are alluded to in the description of how the British responded to the conquest by the Romans 2000 years ago: in place of distaste for the Latin language came a passion to command it. In the same way, our national dress came into favour and the toga was everywhere to be seen. And so the Britons were gradually led on to the amenities that make vice agreeable— arcades, baths and sumptuous banquets. They spoke of such novelties as “civilization” when really they were only a feature of enslavement. (Tacitus, 1948: 72) The global Europeanization process dates back to the policies of the Spaniards and Portuguese six centuries ago, the Christianizing mission with a papal blessing and the quest for gold and territory, after the expulsion of Islam from the Iberian peninsula.2 The significance of language for the colonial adventure was appreciated from its inception. In 1492 Queen Isabella of Spain was presented with a plan for establishing Castilian ‘as a tool for conquest abroad and a weapon to suppress untutored speech at home’; for its author, Antonio de Nebrija, ‘Language has always been the consort of empire, and forever shall remain its mate.’3 The language was to be fashioned as a standard in the domestic education system, as a means of social control, and harnessed to the colonial mission elsewhere. Europeans have violently taken over the territories of other peoples on all continents and much of the functional space occupied by other languages in the local linguistic ecology. To a large extent Europeanization, through the expansion of Spanish, French, English, Russian and other imperial languages has eliminated their cultures and languages. This has had devastating 122
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consequences for the languages of the Indigenous peoples throughout the Americas and Australasia. In Spain, linguicist measures were in place during the fascist dictatorship of Franco, with grave consequences for Catalan, Basque and other languages, which were not permitted in formal education or in personal names. In Mexico “The locals who could not understand Spanish were considered subhuman, and so could be subjugated forthwith . . . reaching far beyond anything Nebrija imagined when he commented on language and empire going together” (Errington, 2008: 25–26). When French became established as an ‘international language’ among elites in many parts of Europe, there was widespread belief in the intrinsic superiority of the language. The Academy of Berlin held a competition in 1782 on the theme of why French was a ‘universal language.’ A winning essay argued that languages that do not follow the syntax of French are illogical and inadequate. Maintenance of a linguistic hierarchy typically involves a pattern of stigmatization of dominated languages (mere ‘dialects, ‘vernaculars’), glorification of the dominant language (its superior clarity, richer vocabulary) and rationalization of the relationship between the languages, always to the benefit of the dominant one (access to the superior culture and ‘progress’). A dominant language is projected as the language of God (Sanskrit, Arabic in the Islamic world, Dutch in South Africa); the language of reason, logic and human rights (French both before and after the French Revolution); the language of the superior ethnonational group (German in Nazi ideology); and the language of progress, modernity and national unity (English in much postcolonial discourse). Other languages are explicitly or implicitly deprived of such functions and qualities. The ancient Greeks stigmatized nonGreek speakers as barbarian, meaning speakers of a nonlanguage. The term Welsh was used by speakers of English to refer to people who call themselves Cymry. ‘Welsh’ in Old English means foreigners or strangers, a stigmatizing categorization from the perspective of the dominant group and in their language. Negative ‘othering’ has deep roots. The expansion of English from its territorial base in England began with its imposition throughout the British Isles. The 1536 Act of Union with Wales entailed subordination to the “rights, laws, customs and speech of England” (Jenkins, 2007: 132). Throughout the British Isles a monolingual ideology was propagated, with devastating effects, even if some Celtic languages have survived and are currently being revitalized. A monolingual ideology was exported to settler colonies in North America and Australasia. President Theodore Roosevelt wrote in 1919: “We have room for but one language here, and that is the English language” (1919). More differentiated policies were needed in exploitation colonies (where the climate precluded settlement by Europeans) such as the Indian subcontinent and most African colonies.
Legitimation of Coloniality and Linguistic Imperialism The present-day strength of English, French, Spanish and Portuguese in the Americas, in Africa, Asia, Australasia and the Pacific is a direct consequence of successive waves of colonization and of the outcome of military conflict between rival European powers. Between 1815 and 1914 over 21 million British and Irish people emigrated, the greatest number to the United States, and increasing numbers to Canada, Australia, Aotearoa/New Zealand and to a lesser extent South Africa. This demographic movement, also undertaken by the Dutch, French, German, Portuguese and Spaniards, assumed a right to occupy territory as though it was unoccupied: the myth of terra nullius, which assumed that Aboriginals had no right of 123
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ownership of the land.4 Europeans have rationalized this dispossession by convincing themselves that a Christian God has endorsed this mission. The British philosopher John Locke fraudulently justified terra nullius in 1690.5 This Doctrine of Discovery through which territory was seized illegally from other peoples is still the ideological legitimation used by imperial states. These cling to the principle of their own states’ ‘territorial integrity and political unity,’ which they have incorporated in their constitutions and in international conventions and that no other state or group has the right to violate. Walker Connor (1972) rightly suggested that the development of modern States has been more of a process of “nation-destroying” rather than of “nation-building,” because in the name of the modern nation-State numerous non-state peoples have in fact been destroyed or eliminated. (Stavenhagen, 1995: 71) These imperial states continue to constantly violate the ‘territorial integrity’ of the nations whose lands they have occupied. The occupations of Iraq, Afghanistan, the Crimea, Tibet, etc., are recent and different variants of the principle of violating territorial integrity. This injustice is seen clearly in relation to Indigenous peoples. The United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples (UNDRIP, www.un.org/esa/socdev/unpfii/ documents/DRIPS_en.pdf) states in its Article 46(1): Nothing in this Declaration may be interpreted as implying for any State, people, group or person any right to engage in any activity or to perform any act . . . construed as authorizing or encouraging any action which would dismember or impair, totally or in part, the territorial integrity or political unity of sovereign and independent States. This confirms the historical dispossession of the territories of Indigenous peoples (IPs): the territories are now seen as integral parts of the colonizing states. IPs are challenging this by reminding colonial states that “IPs have their own territorial integrity, as part of their rights to self-determination and to maintain their nationalities as defined in articles 3 to 6 [of the UNDRIP]” (Docip Update June 2015, No. 109: 14). IPs continue: “Article 46 may not be used to deny IP’s right to self-determination affirmed in article 3 of the Declaration, as well as the UN Charter and Article 1 of the International Human Rights Covenants.”6 In addition, the preambular language of the Declaration [UNDRIP] states that “nothing in this Declaration may be used to deny any peoples their right to self-determination, exercised in conformity with international law” (Docip Update June 2015, No. 109: 14). The Mabo court case in Australia 1971 can be seen as confirming that terra nullius has been a convenient myth for the colonizers. The UN Permanent Forum on Indigenous Issues attempts in its Study on the Impacts of the Doctrine of Discovery on IPs, Including Mechanisms, Processes and Instruments of Redress (E/C.19/2014: 3) to “pursue dialogue on the historical ramifications of this doctrine, to understand its current impacts and to determine ways in which it could be fully addressed and redressed” (Docip Update June 2015, No 109, p. 5). Obviously even minimal redress, along with the right to self-determination of Indigenous peoples, as stated in several international agreements, might threaten the territorial integrity of many of the present states that are based on the theft of Indigenous lands. Thus, even with the inclusion of UNDRIP’s Art. 46 (1), it is no surprise that the four countries that initially did not accept UNDRIP were Australia, Aotearoa/New Zealand, Canada and the United States.
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Likewise, Turkey has succeeded in labeling the whole Kurdish liberation struggle a ‘terrorist movement,’ when what the Kurds have demanded for over a century is self- determination for the Kurdish areas, linguistically, culturally, and economically—all in agreement with international human rights Covenants on the right of a ‘people’ to this. But if Indigenous peoples and minorities are not granted the internal self-determination that most of them are demanding, this may in time lead to demands for external selfdetermination, i.e., secession, meaning exactly what many states fear (see Stavenhagen, 1996). In all of this Indigenous and minority struggle against neoimperialism/coloniality, language and linguistic rights play a central role. Likewise, ecological concerns are at the heart of the demands of self-determination and land rights. Without proper self-determination it is impossible to prevent the failure of states to protect IP’s rights against environmental harms caused by industrial activities that affect the global environment, such as greenhouse gas emissions causing climate change . . . pesticides and other toxic chemicals, and extractive activities . . . water policies that affect the rights of IP’s, the health of their communities, ecosystems, and future generations, as water is crucial for bio-cultural diversity and for sustaining IP’s self-determination. (Docip Update, 2015: 12) The connection between language, culture and Mother Earth has been beautifully expressed by Manu Metekingi, from Whanganui iwi, Aotearoa/New Zealand7: As long as we have the language, we have the culture. As long as we have the culture, we can hold on to the land. Jeannette Armstrong from British Columbia, Canada, analyzes the connection between language and the whole ecosystem further: The Okanagan word for “our place on the land” and “our language” is the same. We think of our language as the language of the land. This means that the land has taught us our language.8 The way we survived is to speak the language that the land offered us as its teachings. To know all the plants, animals, seasons, and geography is to construct language for them. We also refer to the land and our bodies with the same root syllable. This means that the flesh that is our body is pieces of the land that came to us through the things that this land is.9 The soil, the water, the air, and all the other life forms contributed parts to be our flesh. We are our land/place. Not to know and to celebrate this is to be without language and without land. It is to be dis-placed . . . I know what it feels like to be an endangered species on my land, to see the land dying with us. It is my body that is being torn, deforested, and poisoned by “development”. Every fish, plant, insect, bird, and animal that disappears is part of me dying. I know all their names, and I touch them with my spirit. (Armstrong, 1996: 465–466, 470)
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Such cosmologies differ radically from the universe of the European languages and cultures that have been imposed on other continents (Skutnabb-Kangas, 2015).
Linguicism and Linguistic Genocide in Education Indigenous languages were initially used in missionary work and education, in the Americas, in the Saami country (in Norway,10 Finland, Sweden) and elsewhere, but when competition for territory and resources intensified, conflict between the settlers and Indigenous peoples increased. Education was then established on the principle “that the only prospect of success was in taking the children in boarding schools, and making them ‘English in language, civilized in manners, Christian in religion’ ” (Spring, 1996: 152). As a direct result of such policies, very few of the languages originally present in the United States, Canada and Australia have survived, whereas some Saami languages are alive and even revitalizing (e.g. Olthuis et al., 2013 on Aanaar Saami, with some 350 speakers). The linguistic imperialism vis-à-vis Indigenous languages within a polity is comparable to the way both Indigenous and minority languages of the peoples of the Soviet Union were treated by Stalin: ‘bilingual education’ meant transition to monolingualism in Russian. “Under the pressure of the imperial ideology they were forced to sacrifice linguistic rights for an ideal that was clearly an attempt at linguistic genocide” (Rannut, 1994: 179). Education in U.S. colonies functioned along similar lines. In the Philippines, there was an insistence on an exclusive use of English in education from 1898 to 1940: [P]ublic education, specifically language and literature education during the American colonial period, was designed to directly support American colonialism. The combined power of the canon, curriculum, and pedagogy constituted the ideological strategies resulting in rationalising, naturalizing, and legitimizing myths about colonial relationships and realities. (Martin, 2002: 210) Despite differences in the articulation of policies in the French and British empires, what they had in common was the low status accorded to dominated languages: these were either ignored or only used in the early years of education. Policies were worked out ad hoc in a wide variety of situations. A very small proportion of the population was in formal, Western education, especially after the lower grades. Local traditions and educational practice were ignored. Unsuitable education was provided: an explicit policy of ‘civilizing the natives.’ The master language was attributed civilizing properties (Phillipson, 1992: 127–128). In the British Empire, “English was the official vehicle and the magic formula to colonial elitedom” (Ngũgĩ, 1985: 115). In French colonies, the goal of producing a Black elite entailed using French exclusively and the educational content and methods of metropolitan France. Colonizing governments thus implemented linguicist policies that discriminated in favor of European languages. Linguistic hierarchization figured prominently, alongside racism, in the legitimation of the colonial venture. An analysis of the links between linguistics and the furtherance of the French colonial cause documents how French ‘consumed’ other languages by processes of linguistic cannibalism, glottophagie (Calvet, 1974). Linguistic genocide, as defined in the final draft (not accepted by the General Assembly) of what became the United Nations Convention of the Punishment and Prevention of the Crime of Genocide (http://www1.umn.edu/humanrts/instree/x1cppcg.htm), is, in fact, still practiced widely in the modern world when groups are forcibly assimilated to the dominant 126
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culture and its language. Most educational policies regarding Indigenous peoples and even many minorities violate children’s educational rights and can be seen as genocide psychologically, educationally, sociologically and economically, according to the definitions of genocide in Articles IIb and IIe in the present convention (Skutnabb-Kangas, 2000); much recent legal scholarship strengthens the claim that it is genocide even legally. Such policies can also be seen as a crime against humanity (Skutnabb-Kangas and Dunbar, 2010). The World Bank has played a decisive role in funding education in ‘developing’ countries. Its policies have continued the linguistic imperialism of the colonial and early postcolonial periods: The World Bank’s real position . . . encourages the consolidation of the imperial languages in Africa . . . the World Bank does not seem to regard the linguistic Africanisation of the whole of primary education as an effort that is worth its consideration. Its publication on strategies for stabilising and revitalising universities, for example makes absolutely no mention of the place of language at this tertiary level of African education. (Mazrui, 1997: 39) The United States and the UK coordinated efforts to promote English as a ‘global’ language from the 1950s. English language education as propagated by the British and Americans builds on five tenets, each of which is false: English is best taught and examined monolingually (the monolingual fallacy); the ideal teacher of English is a native speaker (the native speaker fallacy); the earlier English is taught, the better the results (the early start fallacy); the more English is taught, the better the results (the maximum exposure fallacy); if other languages are used much, standards of English will drop (the subtractive fallacy) (Phillipson, 1992: 183–218). These underpin the profitable global English teaching business. Post-imperial English: Status Change in Former British and American Colonies, 1940– 1990 (Fishman et al., 1996) has a wealth of empirical description of the functions of English in many contexts. The 29 contributors to the volume were specifically asked to assess whether linguistic imperialism was in force in the country studies they were responsible for. They all address the issue, one editor challenges the validity of the concept, but no contributors assess whether there might be more powerful or precise ways of coming to grips with theorizing the dominance of English. Fishman himself speculates on English being reconceptualised, from being an imperialist tool to being a multinational tool . . . English may need to be re-examined precisely from the point of view of being post-imperial (. . . in the sense of not directly serving purely Anglo-American territorial, economic, or cultural expansion) without being post-capitalist in any way. (Fishman et al., 1996: 8) Corporate activities and regional economic blocs have made the locus of power more diffuse than in earlier, nation-state imperialism. Kirkpatrick (2007) also accepts Fishman’s conclusion (1996: 640) that the strength of English in former British and American colonies is more due to such countries’ engagement in the modern world economy rather than “to any efforts derived from their colonial masters.” This analysis seems to ignore the fact that this ‘engagement’ presupposes a Westerndominated globalization agenda set by transnational corporations and banks (major Western banks, the World Bank, and the IMF), and the U.S. military intervening whenever what it 127
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sees as its ‘vital interests’ are at risk. The financial and economic crises of 2008 exposed instability in this neoliberal system. Military intervention in Arab countries and Afghanistan has had catastrophic consequences. English has thus far served to consolidate the interests of the powerful globally and locally and to maintain an exploitative world order that can disenfranchise speakers of other languages. The American scholar Salikoko Mufwene, who has written insightfully about the ecology of language and linguistic species generation, states categorically that ‘small’ languages are not threatened by English but only by bigger local languages: “English is no more dangerous to the Indigenous languages than McDonald’s eateries are to their traditional cuisines. There are certainly endangered languages in the ‘Outer’ and ‘Expanding’ circles, but (the spread of) English has nothing to do with their condition” (Mufwene, 2010: 50). Although it is correct that demographically small languages are at great risk from a switch into more widely used local languages, Mufwene’s argument ignores the significant role of ex-colonial languages in education, their major importance in maintaining the position and privileges of dominant elites, and the corporate profits of British and American publishers—and the devastating harm that English-medium education, with poorly trained teachers causes to the vast majority of African and Asian children, keeping them in poverty (e.g., Alexander, 2006; Misra and Mohanty, 2000; Mohanty and Skutnabb-Kangas, 2013). Mufwene also pours scorn on efforts to use the human rights system so as to strengthen and maintain a vibrant language ecology: [T]the ideal world in which (rich) linguistic diversity can be sustained is far from being ours. There are really no language rights. Many people who are struggling to improve their living conditions in the current ever-changing socioeconomic ecologies are not concerned with maintaining languages and heritages, which are more properly archived in libraries and museums. The archiving is (to be) done by experts or some nonprofessional “glossophiles” (if I may suggest the term). (Mufwene, 2011: 927; see also Mufwene, this volume) Rodolfo Stavenhagen (1995: 77) counteracts this forcefully, and echoes Indigenous peoples: Too often, policies of national integration, of national cultural development, actually imply a policy of ethnocide, that is, the wilful destruction of cultural groups. The cultural development of peoples, whether minorities or majorities, must be considered within the framework of the right of peoples to self-determination, which by accepted international standards is the fundamental human right, in the absence of which all other human rights cannot really be enjoyed. Governments fear that if minority peoples hold the right to self-determination in the sense of a right to full political independence, then existing States might break up. State interests thus are still more powerful at the present time than the human rights of peoples.
Ongoing Tensions Between Linguistic Imperialism and Resistance, and Future Directions Scholars in Western countries are often reluctant to analyze the continued expansion of English in terms of linguistic imperialism, whereas scholars in former colonies, at the receiving end of it, are more likely to.
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The strong position of English in former colonies represents a continuation of the policies of colonial times. It has strengthened an elite class, with the effect that in India “Over the post-Independence years, English has become the single most important predictor of socio-economic mobility . . . With the globalized economy, English education widens the discrepancy between the social classes.” (Mohanty, 2006: 268–269) Rainer Enrique Hamel from Mexico (2004) sees those researchers who deny the existence of linguistic imperialism as disconnecting the expansion of English from contextual causal factors: Most actors share the view of the spread of English as natural, neutral, and beneficial [. . .] Broader issues about the relationship between British or US-American business interests and the promotion of English usually remain hidden behind the smokescreen of actorless globalization. Most significantly, Kachru, Crystal and others dissociate English from the centralized power relations of national imperial states. One development that strengthens global elite formation is the rapid increase in the number of English-medium international schools around the world, from around 1,700 in 2001 to 5,270 in 2009. The sector is “now worth $18bn worldwide and set to double in value by 2020” with expansion mainly in India, the Middle East and Asia (Hoare, 2009). Presumably many graduates go on to study at universities in ‘English-speaking’ countries. It is likely that their linguistic roots in their cultures of origin will be weaker than their identification with the global economy and international mobility. Currently there is a significant move in many African countries, in India, Nepal and other Asian countries, into English-only education. This intensifies the marginalization of local languages and is definitely a threat to the local language ecology. There are, though, also increasing attempts at arguing for and organizing mother-tongue–based multilingual education, and research support for this kind of education is strong. There is a very strong movement towards mother-tongue-based multilingual education, especially in many Asian countries (see, e.g., Benson and Kosonen, 2011; 2012). In contrast to many Asian and African countries, the governments of the Nordic countries are determined that increased proficiency in English should in no way reduce the role of national languages. This principle is enshrined in a Declaration on a Nordic Language Policy, available in eight Nordic languages and English (www.norden.org). Many universities in Finland and Sweden have thus formulated language policies that aim at ensuring that their graduates and staff are in effect bilingual: universities have a responsibility as publicly funded institutions to promote national languages, and as participants in an international community of practice they also need to function in English and other international languages. This exemplifies governments being aware of the risk of the negative impact of linguistic imperialism and taking measures to counteract it. The European Union advocates policies to promote multilingualism and the goal of all schoolchildren becoming trilingual, so as to strengthen all EU languages. However, the management of multilingualism in EU institutions is exceptionally complicated, and market forces are strengthening the position of English nationally as well as in the EU system (Phillipson, 2011). There is therefore a risk of other languages being displaced and dispossessed of their linguistic capital.
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Scholars who are skeptical about linguistic imperialism as an explanatory model for the way English has been consolidated worldwide tend to analyze matters as active U.S.-UK promotion of English, supported by linguicist policies that favor it over other languages. This is a separate issue from colonized people and others actively wishing to learn English because of the doors, economic, social, political and cultural, that proficiency in the language can open. Matters are summed up as though there is a ‘free’ choice (e.g. Kirkpatrick, 2007: 35–37), with no imposition involved. In reality the pull-factor, people wanting to learn English, is partially caused by the push-factor, the way English is sold, glorified and marketed falsely as a panacea. Push and pull factors both contribute to linguistic hegemony and hierarchy. The other false dichotomy involves presenting, maintaining and developing Indigenous, minority and minoritized languages on the one hand, and learning English on the other hand, as excluding each other. It is logical that people in many countries wish to develop competence in English, but in many postcolonial countries the way education is organized entails subtractive learning. For instance, a consequence of education in Singapore being exclusively through the medium of English is that more than half the population now uses English as the home language. English-medium schooling that neglects mother tongues can have this effect. In contrast, results of well-conducted mother-tongue–based multilingual education show that children can learn both their own languages and several dominant languages (e.g., a locally dominant language and English) really well, in addition to understanding what is taught in the various subjects and thus having a chance of academic and cognitive development. What the increased influence of China and a worldwide increase in the learning of Chinese will lead to is unpredictable. Current policies in China definitely restrict the use of languages other than Mandarin Chinese, with negative effects on the local language ecology. An extreme case is the oppression that linguistic minorities are exposed to in China. There has been a very strong migration of Han Chinese to both Tibet and the Uyghur areas over recent decades so that the Tibetans and the Uyghurs are or will soon be a minority in their own territories. A 2010 education plan for the Xinjiang Uyghur Autonomous Region is designed to assimilate Uyghurs to the dominant Han Chinese language totally and rapidly, this policy dovetailing with measures to crush their traditional economic, cultural and religious practices. The conceptual framework elaborated earlier can serve to explore the questions raised initially in this chapter in more depth. Even if the volume of academic work in the area of macro-sociolinguistics and language policy has increased dramatically over the past 20 years, much of it does not engage directly with issues of inequality, social injustice, and the way a neo-imperial linguistic world order is being reconstituted. Critiques of a linguistic imperialist approach for ignoring agency, being excessively structuralist, or implying that education systems should not produce competent users of English are invalid (Phillipson, 2009: 15–18). The study of linguistic imperialism does not argue for or against particular languages. It analyses how linguistic imperialism functions in specific contexts in order to identify injustice or discrimination so as to provide a basis for remedying them. As stressed initially, linguistic imperialism is one aspect of wider ongoing societal processes, which have massive consequences for the ecology of languages. Recent decades of ‘globalization’ are insightfully analyzed by Pierre Bourdieu (2001: 96–97), who describes today’s globalization as
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a pseudo-concept that is both descriptive and prescriptive, which has replaced “modernisation,” that was long used in the social sciences in the USA as a euphemistic way of imposing a naively ethnocentric evolutionary model by means of which different societies were classified according to their distance from the economically most advanced society, i.e. American society. The word (and the model it expresses) incarnates the most accomplished form of the imperialism of the universal, which consists of one society universalising its own particularity covertly as a universal model. In view of the massive changes occurring in today’s globalization, people need adaptability and fitness, which requires creativity. The challenges for maintaining our multiple, interlocking diversities are astutely brought together by Colin Baker in his review of SkutnabbKangas (2000): Ecological diversity is essential for long-term planetary survival. All living organisms, plants, animals, bacteria and humans survive and prosper through a network of complex and delicate relationships. Damaging one of the elements in the ecosystem will result in unforeseen consequences for the whole of the system. Evolution has been aided by genetic diversity, with species genetically adapting in order to survive in different environments. Diversity contains the potential for adaptation. Uniformity can endanger a species by providing inflexibility and unadaptability. Linguistic diversity and biological diversity are . . . inseparable. The range of cross fertilisation becomes less as languages and cultures die and the testimony of human intellectual achievement is lessened. In the language of ecology, the strongest ecosystems are those that are the most diverse. That is, diversity is directly related to stability; variety is important for longterm survival. Our success on this planet has been due to an ability to adapt to different kinds of environment over thousands of years (atmospheric as well as cultural). Such ability is born out of diversity. Thus language and cultural diversity maximises chances of human success and adaptability. (Baker, 2001: 281) If during the next 100 years we murder 50% to 90% of the linguistic (and thereby mostly also the cultural) diversity which is our treasury of historically developed knowledge, and includes knowledge about how to maintain and use sustainably some of the most vulnerable and most biologically diverse environments in the world, we are also seriously undermining our chances of life continuing on earth. Monocultures are vulnerable in agriculture, horticulture and animal husbandry. We see this in increasingly more dramatic ways, when animals, bacteria and crops which are more and more resistant (to antibiotics, to roundups etc.), are starting to spread—and we have just seen the tip of the iceberg. With genetic manipulations the problems are mounting rapidly. In terms of the new ways of coping that we are going to need, the potential for the new lateral thinking that might save us from ourselves in time lies in having as many and as diverse languages and cultures as possible. We do not know which ones have the right medicine, but the field of language rights is of major relevance (see Skutnabb-Kangas and Phillipson, eds., 2017, four volumes). For maintaining all of them, multilingualism is necessary. Multilingualism should of course be one of the most important goals in education. But is it?
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Further Reading Austin, P. K. and Simpson, A. (eds.) (2007), Endangered Languages. (Linguistische Berichte, special issue 14). Hamburg: Helmut Buske Verlag. Skutnabb-Kangas, T. and Phillipson, R. (2010), ‘The global politics of language: markets, maintenance, marginalization or murder,’ in N. Coupland (ed.), The Handbook of Language and Globalization. Malden, MA, Oxford: Wiley-Blackwell, pp. 77–100.
Notes 1 Linguicism: “ideologies, structures and practices which are used to legitimate, effectuate, regulate and reproduce an unequal division of power and resources (both material and immaterial) between groups which are defined on the basis of language” (Skutnabb-Kangas, 1988: 13). Most education systems worldwide for Indigenous/tribal peoples and minorities reflect linguicism (SkutnabbKangas, 2000; Skutnabb-Kangas and Dunbar, 2010). 2 The European occupiers of Mexico in 1519 destroyed heathen idols (Diaz, 1963) with the same barbarity as the Taleban and IS destroy artefacts in Afghanistan and the Middle East. The United States and its willing partners have perpetrated well-documented crimes of cultural genocide and cultural cleansing in Iraq, with massive consequences for local languages (Abdul Haq al-Ani and Tariq al-Ani, 2015). 3 ‘Siempre la lengua fue compañera del imperio.’ In Prólogo a la Gramática de la lengua castellana en www.antoniodenebrija.org/prologo.html. All translations are ours. 4 The aim was to establish replicas of the ‘home country’ in New Amsterdam (later New York), New England, New Zealand, Nova Scotia, Hispania, etc. 5 In Two Treatises of Government, Locke argues: “God, by commanding to subdue, gave Authority so far to appropriate,” this inequality being ‘tacitly but voluntarily’ agreed on by society (1988: 292, 302; original emphasis). 6 International Covenant on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights, www.ohchr.org/Documents/ ProfessionalInterest/cescr.pdf, and International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights, https:// treaties.un.org/doc/Publication/UNTS/Volume 999/volume-999-I-14668-English.pdf 7 Manu Metekingi, a Māori man from the Whanganui iwi (tribe), said this in a film shown at the Whanganui Iwi Exhibition, at Te Papa Tongarewa Museum of New Zealand, Wellington, November 29, 2003–May 2006. The exhibition told about ‘our heartland, the Whanganui River, and our place within it.’ The Whanganui iwi write: ‘The well-being of our river is intertwined with its people’s well-being’ (from the brochure describing the exhibition, with the theme: ‘Ko au te awa, ko te awa ko au. I am the river, the river is me.’ 8 The relationship between language and land is seen as sacred. Most non-Indigenous people need a lot of guidance to even start understanding the primacy of land in it. One example from Australia: none of the Aboriginal people participating in the reclaiming of the Awabakal language were descendants of the Awabakal (the last speakers died before 1900) but came from other areas and peoples. Still, they speak about ‘our language’ and ‘our identity’ in connection with Awabakal. In Rob Amery’s words (1998: 94—this is from the manuscript that became Amery, 2000): “the revival of Awabakal seems to be based primarily on the association of the language with the land, the language of the place in which a group of Aboriginal people of diverse origins now live.” 9 This can also be understood completely literally: all our food that builds our body comes from the Earth. 10 See Svein Lund et al.’s six edited volumes on Saami school history.
References Al-Ani, Abdul Haq and Tarik Al-Ani 2015. Genocide in Iraq. The obliteration of a modern state. Atlanta, GA : Clarity Press. Alexander, N. (2006), ‘Socio-political factors in the evolution of language policy in post-Apartheid South Africa,’ in M. Pütz, J. A. Fishman and J. A. Neff-van Aertselaer (eds.), ‘Along the Routes to Power’. Explorations of Empowerment Through Language. Berlin, New York: Mouton de Gruyter, pp. 241–260. 132
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Amery, R. (2000), Warrabarna Kaurna! Reclaiming an Australian Language (Series Multilingualism and Linguistic Diversity). Lisse: Swets & Zeitlinger. Armstrong, J. (1996), ‘ “Sharing One Skin”: Okanagan community’, in J. Mander and E. Goldsmith (eds.), The Case Against the Global Economy and for a Turn Toward the Local. San Francisco: Sierra Club, pp. 460–470. Baker, C. (2001), ‘Review of Tove Skutnabb-Kangas Linguistic genocide in education—or worldwide diversity and human rights?’, Journal of Sociolinguistics, 5(2): 279–283. Benson, C. and Kosonen, K. (2011), ‘A critical comparison of language-in-education policy and practice in four Southeast Asian countries and Ethiopia’, in T. Skutnabb-Kangas and K. Heugh (eds.), Multilingual Education and Sustainable Diversity Work: From Periphery to Center. New York: Routledge, pp. 111–137. Benson, C. and Kosonen, K. (eds.) (2012), Language Issues in Comparative Education: Inclusive Teaching and Learning in Non-Dominant Languages and Cultures. Rotterdam, Boston, Taipei: Sense Publishers. Bourdieu, P. (2001), Contre-feux 2. Pour un mouvement social européen. Paris: Raisons d’agir. Calvet, L.-J. (1974), Linguistique et colonialisme: Petit traité de glottophagie. Paris: Payot. Connor, W. (1972), ‘Nation building or nation destroying?’, World Politics, 24: 3. Diaz, B. (1963), The conquest of New Spain. Harmondsworth: Penguin. Docip Update June 2015, No. 109 (Indigenous peoples’ centre for documentation, research and information; www. docip.org) Errington, J. (2008), Linguistics in a Colonial World: A Story of Language, Meaning, and Power. Malden, MA: Blackwell. Fishman, J. A., Conrad, A. W. and Rubal-Lopez, A. (eds.) (1996), Post-Imperial English: Status Change in Former British and American Colonies, 1940–1990. Berlin: Mouton de Gruyter. Hamel, R. E. (2004), ‘Language empires, linguistic imperialism and the future of global languages’, Manuscript in the possession of the authors. Hoare, S. (2009, December 4), ‘Valued throughout the world. The international baccalaureate’s popularity is growing,’ The Guardian Weekly. Howe, S. (2002), Empire, a Very Short Introduction. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Jenkins, G. H. (2007), A Concise History of Wales. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Kirkpatrick, A. (2007), World Englishes: Implications for International Communication and English Language Teaching. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Locke, J. (1988) [1690], Two Treatises of Government. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Lund, S., Boine, E. and Brock Johansen, S. (eds.) (2005–2013), Sámi skuvlahistorjá 1–6 / Samisk skolehistorie 1–6 [Saami School History]. Karasjok: Davvi Girji [email protected]. The books can be read in Norwegian, Saami and parts also in English at http://skuvla.info. Martin, I. P. (2002), ‘Canon and pedagogy: The role of American colonial education in defining standards for Philippine literature’, in A. Kirkpatrick (ed.), Englishes in Asia: Communication, identity, power and education. Melbourne: Language Australia, pp. 213–224. Mazrui, A. A. (1997), ‘The World Bank, the language question and the future of African education’, Race and Class, 38(3): 35–48. Misra, G. and Mohanty, A. K. (2000), ‘Consequences of poverty and disadvantage: A review of Indian studies’, in A. K. Mohanty and G. Misra (eds.), Psychology of Poverty and Disadvantage. New Delhi: Concept Publishing Company, pp. 121–148. Mohanty, A. (2006), ‘Multilingualism and predicaments of education in India’, in O. García, T. Skutnabb-Kangas and M. Torres-Guzmán (eds.), Imagining Multilingual Schools: Languages in Education and Glocalization. Clevedon, Avon: Multilingual Matters, pp. 262–283. Mohanty, A. and Skutnabb-Kangas, T. (2013), ‘MLE as an economic equaliser in India and Nepal: Mother tongue based multilingual education fights poverty through capability development and identity support’, in K. Henrard (ed.), The Interrelation Between the Right to Identity of Minorities and Their Socio-Economic Participation. Studies in International Minority and Group Rights. Vol. 2. Leiden and Boston: Brill/Martinus Nijhoff Publishers, pp. 159–187. 133
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Mufwene, S. (2010), ‘Globalization, global English, and world English(es): Myths and facts’, in N. Coupland (ed.), The handbook of language and globalization. Malden, MA: Wiley-Blackwell, pp. 31–55. Mufwene, S. (2011), ‘The role of mother-tongue teaching in eradicating poverty: A response to Language and Poverty’, Language, 86(4): 910–932. Ngũgĩ, wa Thiong’o (1985, April‑June), ‘The language of African literature’, New Left Review: 109 –127. Olthuis, M.-L., Kivelä, S. and Skutnabb-Kangas, T. (2013), Revitalising Indigenous Languages: How to Recreate a Lost Generation. Bristol: Multilingual Matters. Series Linguistic Diversity and Language Rights. Phillipson, R. (1992), Linguistic Imperialism. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Phillipson, R. (2009), Linguistic Imperialism Continued. New York and Abingdon: Routledge (also published by Orient Blackswan for seven South Asian countries). Phillipson, R. (2011), ‘The EU and languages: Diversity in what unity?’, in A.-L. Kjær and S. Adamo (eds.), Linguistic Diversity and European Democracy. Farnham: Ashgate, pp. 57–74. Rannut, M. (1994), ‘Beyond linguistic policy: The Soviet Union versus Estonia’, in T. Skutnabb- Kangas and R. Phillipson (eds.), Linguistic Human Rights. Berlin: Mouton de Gruyter, pp. 179–208. Roosevelt, T. (1919, January 3), ‘Letter to R. K. Hurd’, http://msgboard.snopes.com/graphics/ troosevelt.pdf. Skutnabb-Kangas, T. (1988), ’Multilingualism and the education of minority children’, in T. SkutnabbKangas and J. Cummins (eds.), Minority education: From Shame to Struggle. Clevedon, Avon: Multilingual Matters, pp. 9–44. Skutnabb-Kangas, T. (2000), Linguistic Genocide in Education—or Worldwide Diversity and Human Rights? Mahwah, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum. Skutnabb-Kangas, T. (2015), ‘Languages, land rights, and education—whose cosmologies?’, Special Issue of MLE Newsletter for International Mother Language Day. Delhi: The National Multilingual Education Resource Consortium. www.nmrc-jnu.org/ Skutnabb-Kangas, T. and Dunbar, R. (2010), Indigenous Children’s Education as Linguistic Genocide and a Crime Against Humanity? A Global View. Guovdageaidnu/Kautokeino: Galdu, Resource Centre for the Rights of Indigenous Peoples. www.galdu.org. Skutnabb-Kangas, T. and Phillipson, R. (eds) 2017. Language Rights. Four volumes. London and New York: Routledge. Spring, J. (1996), The Cultural Transformation of a Native American Family and Its Tribe, 1763– 1995. Mahwah, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum. Stavenhagen, R. (1995), ‘Cultural rights and universal human rights’, in A. Eide, C. Krause and A. Rosas (eds.), Economic, Social and Cultural Rights: A Textbook. Dordrecht, Boston and London: Martinus Nijhoff Publishers, pp. 63–77. Stavenhagen, R. (1996), ‘Self-determination: Right or Demon?’, in D. Clark and R. Williamson (eds.), Self-Determination: International Perspectives. London: Macmillan; New York: St. Martin’s Press, pp. 1–11. Tacitus on Britain and Germany (1948), A new translation of the ‘Agricola’ and the ‘Germania’ by H. Mattingly. West Drayton: Penguin. Wendel, J. N. (2005), ‘Notes on the ecology of language’, Bunkyo Gakuin University Academic Journal, 5: 51–76.
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9 What Creolistics Can Learn From Ecolinguistics Peter Mühlhäusler
Introduction This chapter builds on three earlier papers of mine, in which I tried to critique the prevailing approach to the study of creoles: • •
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An essay in Wolf (1992) titled “On Redefining Creolistics” A paper in JPCL (Journal of Pidgin and Creole Linguistics) (2011) arguing for the need to privilege the study of substance over form and a subsequent exchange of views on this matter and on the concept of ecological linguistics with Mufwene (Mufwene, 2015; Mühlhäusler, 2015) A number of chapters in Ludwig et al. (2016)
Importantly, the present chapter draws on extended fieldwork on Tok Pisin (Papua New Guinea), Australian Aboriginal Pidgin English, Norf’k (Norfolk Island, South Pacific), as well as a range of other pidgins and creoles over a period covering over 40 years. It also draws on my ecolinguistic ideas, which I developed over a period of 30 years (summarized in Mühlhäusler, 2003) and my extensive reading of ecolinguistic and creolistic publications. Efforts to bring together insights from ecolinguistics and creolistics are also in evidence with other authors such as Mufwene (2001), Calvet (2006), Avram (2006), Nash (2013) and Ehrhart (2012). A perusal of the last 20 years of the Journal of Pidgin and Creole Languages (JPCL) suggests that ecolinguistic ideas have remained marginal to the debates of the creolistic mainstream.
What Is Ecolinguistics? Ecolinguistics is not a uniform enterprise and in recent years has become more rather than less diversified. One is reminded that the prefix ‘eco-’ has become attached to all sorts of descriptors, including eco-tourism, eco-vehicle, eco-houses and eco-lifestyles and, in this
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process, has acquired a large number of meanings. The first use of the term ‘ecology’ in linguistics is found in a paper by the Voegelins (Voegelin et al., 1967) on the language varieties in Arizona where a distinction between intra-language and inter-language ecology is drawn. A similar distinction was introduced independently in Haugen’s seminal paper titled “The Ecology of Language” (1972: 325) where he defines it as “the study of interactions between any given language and its environment.” The notion of environment includes (1972: 336) the question “what concurrent languages are employed by speakers of a given language?” Fill (1996: 4) characterizes Haugen’s approach as a grand metaphor, which describes languages like natural life forms. ‘Given languages’ in Haugen’s approach are presented as something like European national languages and interaction between different languages is portrayed as competition. Characteristic of much work on language ecology is the dominance of the struggle for existence metaphor. Mackey (1980: 34) for instance, argues: Languages too must exist in environments and these can be friendly, hostile or indifferent to the life of each of the languages. A language may expand, as more and more people use it, or it may die for lack of speakers. Just as competition for limited bioresources creates conflict in nature, so also with languages. The same emphasis is encountered in Denison (1982: 6): There is a sense in which all the languages and varieties in an area such as Europe constantly act in supplementation of each other and in competition with each other for geographical, social and functional Lebensraum; hence the metaphorical appropriateness of the term ‘ecology.’ Haugen’s approach, in a modified form, is applied to creolistics by Mufwene (2001) and Avram (2006). These authors employ ecological methods and concepts, including survival of the fittest, health of ecologies, niche and interaction: •
•
•
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The ecocritical approach of Halliday (1990), Trampe (1990) and many others (featured in Fill and Mühlhäusler, 2001) is a kind of philosophical critique of everyday language, reminiscent of Whorf (see Mühlhäusler, 2000). It seeks to identify the linguistic roots of environmental matters and portrays misuse of language as the cause of numerous ills. The attempt by myself (e.g., Mühlhäusler, 1996a, 2003; Nash, 2015; Nash and Mühlhäusler, 2014) and others to understand the functional links between ways of speaking and the natural and social environment of languages sees languages literally, rather than metaphorically, embedded in social and natural ecologies. What is said and how it is said has an indefinitely large number of ecological prerequisites. As in integrational linguistics (Harris, 1980, Toolan, 1996) language is not regarded as a self-contained closed system and the boundary between verbal and other meaningful forms of human communication is abandoned. There are also approaches focusing on biocultural diversity (Maffi, 2001; Nettle, 1999), i.e., the interdependency of diversity of natural kinds and human languages and social structures. Unlike the previous approach, these tend to focus on macro-phenomena rather than the analysis of aspects of individual speech communities.
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What distinguishes all of these approaches from mainstream ‘modern’ linguistics is that they take into account a much larger number of parameters and the view that language is not a neutral tool of communication but that it impacts on the world.
What Is Creolistics? Wikipedia defines creolistics as “the scientific study of creole languages and, as such, [. . .] a subfield of linguistics.” The scope of creolistics includes pidgin and creole languages, although there is considerable disagreement as to whether these languages are substantially different in terms of their social history and structural properties, from other languages. Not many creolists would agree that the languages featured in APiCS—the Atlas of Pidgin and Creole Language Structures (Michaelis et al., 2013) belong to a well-defined class. Rather, these languages are often regarded as a syndrome with many underlying causes. This is not the place for an extended discussion of this matter. However, I would like to point out that similar problems arise when linguists attempt to define concepts such as ‘a language, ‘a grammar,’ ‘a dialect’ or numerous other metalinguistic terms routinely used by linguists. Definitions, of course, have no truth value. They are tools chosen because they make it possible to do a job, to obtain answers to certain questions identified by researchers: Creolists have used their definitions to obtain answers to questions such as: What accounts for the perceived similarities of pidgin and creole languages in many parts of the world? Do such similarities reflect an innate bioprogram, sociohistorical factors or a combination thereof? There are numerous other questions that have received only sporadic attention. For a discussion see Mühlhäusler (1997: 339ff.), although they were raised by creolists in the past. They include the question of the locus of language, i.e., whether structural patterns are located in individual minds, a collective social mind or in complex communication networks (De Camp, 1974), the question of systematic and referential adequacy of creoles (Labov, 1990) or the question of multiple sources for grammar and lexicon (Silverstein, 1971; Mühlhäusler, 1982) and others. A question that has received a fair bit of attention in recent years is whether creoles are less complex than other human languages. This question is unlikely to receive a determinate answer, however, for a number of reasons: • • •
Creole grammar is seen as an abstract system or fixed code. Complexity and simplicity can only be shown for components or subcomponents such as complexity of derivational morphology or phonology, not as complexity of the entire system (for reasons outlined in Szmrecsanyi and Kortmann, 2012). Just as it is not possible to answer the question ‘what is the simplest tool’ without stating what the job to be performed actually is, it is not possible to determine simplicity or complexity of language without reference to social functions.1
Another current concern is typological properties of creoles. Again it would seem difficult to obtain determinate answers as long as creoles are treated as essentially synchronic systems, as in APiCS.
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What Can Ecolinguistics Contribute to Creolistics? General remarks: One can distinguish two kinds of answers: 1. The ecolinguistic approach can critique existing creolistic practices. 2. Ecolinguistics can provide radically new insights into the nature of pidgin and creole languages by adopting a different perspective, applying new heuristic metaphors and by considering more and different parameters. With regard to 1), I have already commented on some deficiencies of creolistics as generally practiced: • • • • • •
The continued dependency of creolistics on mainstream linguistic fashions and the resulting inability to articulate challenges and counterexamples to the mainstream approach. The arbitrary restriction to a small number of explanatory parameters and/or social correlates of creolization. The neglect of most aspects of meaning other than sense relations and an impoverished linguistic meaning, which ignores indexicality, nonarbitrary signs, deliberate languagemaking, emotions, power and miscommunication. The portrayal of pidgins and creoles as quasi–self-contained entities rather than integral parts of larger linguistic ecologies. Fleischmann’s (1978) account of the Caribbean creole ecology has yet to find wider acceptance among creolists. The refusal to address questions of referential adequacy and the effects potential inadequacies may have for their users. The impact of pidginization and creolization on linguistic diversity in many parts of the world.
Finally, creolists disagree on numerous issues. The situation today is not very different from that encountered by Reinecke (1937: 40) many decades ago: Almost every detail of the formation, nature and function of the marginal languages is a subject of disagreement. Many baseless or outworn ideas are still current about these forms of speech.
Ontology Perhaps the most important insight that ecolinguistics can contribute to creolistics concerns the ontology of pidgins and creoles, a point also made by Calvet (2006: 242–247). They are not systems located in speakers’ minds nor are they bounded objects, simplified rule systems, a social semiotics or species in Mufwene’s sense, though aspects implied by such labels can at times be useful in characterizing particular pidgins and creoles. The notion of species would seem to be a particularly problematic one, even when used metaphorically. Mufwene compares language with species (not with organisms) by analogy and particularly with parasitic species, more specifically viruses, in biology. Further analogies are drawn between idiolects and individuals, and between structural features and genes. He argues that competition and selection are also decisive mechanisms in language evolution, whereas it is ecology that “rolls the dice” and determines which species, idiolect 138
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or structural feature, in their respective contexts, is “more fit than others” (2001: 21). Such a characterization presupposes boundaries, which are typically difficult or impossible to establish. Language labels such as Torres Straits Broken and Papuan Pidgin English are deceptive, as there are good arguments for treating them (at least up to about 1920) as the same language from a structural linguistic point of view, although the inhabitants of the area would disagree. By contrast a label such as Tok Pisin stands for a number of mutually unintelligible developmental stages and varieties. Names are poor indicators of samenesses and differences and more than one name does not warrant the conclusion that one is dealing with more than one language in either a structural or a social sense. Importantly, the very terms pidgin and creole or names such as Kriol, Hiri Motu or whatever portray them as objects of investigation rather than activities (ways of speaking). Such a reification of ‘pidgin’ or ‘creole’ enables researchers to analyze them out of context and to set aside important situational parameters that cannot be ignored when researching the ways people speak. Ways of speaking are integral parts of the social and natural ecologies in which their speakers communicate and the research question that derives from this perspective is: What are the interconnections between patterns of language use and the physical and social ecologies into which they are embedded? In the case of most pidgins and creoles, we are dealing with newly formed ways of speaking, which arise in sociogenesis and massive changes in physical settings. Pidgin and creole research thus needs to ask questions such as: What is the nature of variation in Pidgins and Creoles? How do Pidgins and Creoles adapt to new environments? What is the impact of pidgins and creoles on language ecologies? What are the cultural and natural constraints that impact on new ways of speaking? What deliberate human actions shape these new languages? How do ways of speaking transform the natural environment of pidgin and creole communities? I shall deal with some of these questions in what follows.
Linguistic Variation Pidgin and creole languages are known for their variability and efforts to provide descriptively adequate accounts such as variation grammar (Bailey, Sankoff, DeCamp) were made from the 1970s onward. The vast majority of accounts start at the linguistic end, and Bailey (1996) maintains that variation can be exhaustively accounted for by internal linguistic factors such as markedness, naturalness and principles of language mixing. Variation is displayed by means of implicational scales reflecting such factors as well as the order of changes over time. Other variationist approaches again start at the linguistic end but correlate linguistic to a range of social factors, thereby emphasizing the indexicality of observed variants. Although much variation is indeed of an indexical nature, this is not fully captured by correlationist approaches, which restrict themselves to a small number of conventional correlates, mainly age, gender, social class and levels of formality, ignoring the indeterminably large range of ecological factors that underlies variation. 139
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As observed by Labov (1971: 463): To my way of thinking, sociolinguistics as a descriptive discipline is a hopeless task; there is no limit to the number of correlations between linguistic and social factors which may be described. Reduction in variation is due, in the case of Belizean Creole (LePage and Tabouret-Keller, 1986) to a communal act of identity that focuses on a small number of linguistic role models; reduced variation can also be due to standardizing strategies by missions, governments and education systems, to co-location of previously scattered speaker populations, to migration to expatriate settings or to conversion to a new religion. Conversely, persistent high variability can be due to its role as an index of family membership, as has been the case with Pitkern-Norf’k, and a wish to distinguish oneself from the mainstream power elite. Social mobility is one of the main forces underlying the development of post-creole continua. Importantly, both the ecological connections with other languages (in Haugen’s sense) and the large number of other factors are in constant flux. Pidgins being second languages by definition depend on their survival on an ecological support system other than intergenerational transmission sufficient to keep them going as second languages. As regards Creoles, Fleischmann’s (1978) account of the creoles of the Caribbean emphasizes the interconnections between creoles with different lexifiers and the constant lexical and structural changes resulting from dislocation of slave populations, change of ownership of islands, migration following the abolition of slavery and the changing ownership of many islands. More recently, the impact of tourism, new media, emigration and diaspora communities have made old ways of speaking giving way to new ones. Generally speaking, one pidgin seldom comes alone. Many parts of the world exhibit coexistence and contact between a number of pidgins as well as successive waves of new pidgins in the wake of political and social changes. Pidgin Fijian and Pidgin English for a while coexisted in Fiji and parts of the Solomon Islands, Bazaar Malay, Pidgin German and Pidgin English were found on the plantations of Kaiser-Wilhelms-Land around 1900. Pidgin Hawai’in, Pidgin English and a range of varieties of reduced English were used on the plantations of Hawaii and a maritime Polynesian Pidgin appears to have been used alongside pidgins with a European lexifier in several parts of the Pacific (Drechsel, 2014). Documenting such multi-pidgin ecologies and the structural and lexical changes that occur in them is an important task for creolistics, as it highlights the historical factors that have promoted structural affinities between pidgins. Such factors are historical contingencies that constrain the operation of bio-programmatic development in pidgins.
Adaptation to New Environments In Mühlhäusler (1996b, 1996c), I argued that languages that come into being in new social and natural ecologies provide ideal case studies as to how languages adapt to become management tools in new environments. In the case of old languages, through thousands of years of human adaptation to specific environments, a close match between the contours of language and the contours of the speaker’s environment is achieved. Contrasting with such a scenario of gradual accommodation there is another one: the invasion of an island environment by outsiders who suddenly find themselves on unfamiliar ground lacking
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the linguistic resources for talking about it and through this lack ending up contributing to rapid degradation of their new environment. That islands are particularly vulnerable to environmental degradation has become an important topic in ecological studies (e.g. Atkinson, 1989; Crosby, 1986; Olson, 1989). An extreme case is that of an uninhabited island such as Mauritius suddenly being developed as the new home of linguistically and culturally diverse or even antagonistic groups, who are faced with the dual task of developing a language for intercommunication (a new creole) and a language capable of discussing their new ecology. Mauritius, an uninhabited island in the Indian Ocean, was discovered, but never settled, by the Portuguese around 1528 and occupied by the Dutch from 1598 to 1710, after which time it was taken over by the French. Little is known about the language the small number of Dutch and their slaves (around 300 in all) used but it appears to have been a Portuguese Creole similar to that used in the Dutch East Indies and the Cape Colony. The Dutch brought with them rats, goats, pigs, cattle, monkeys and deer all of which caused immense damage to the Indigenous flora and fauna leading to the extinction not only of the dodo but many other species. When the Dutch departed, the French took over a virtually ‘empty’ island and thus had to make a new start; their linguistic task was a very significant one. Leaving aside the question to what extent the French or Mauritius could draw on the linguistic resources that had developed on neighboring Reunion (see Chaudenson, 1991) I shall now briefly look at some of the preliminary results of research carried out by Philip Baker (1995). Of particular interest in the emergence in Mauritian Creole of classification systems for botanical life forms and fauna. Regarding the former, the Mauritian system does not appear to be readily accommodated in Brown’s (1977) Universal Hierarchy, as both appearance and use are employed, such that next to a classification of the type pye ‘tree, largish plant’ lerb ‘grerb’ and lalyan ‘creeper vine’ we also find bred ‘any variety of flora which as edible leaves’ and fler ‘flower.’ One might wish to suggest that edibility ranked high among the priorities of the early settlers. This may also account for the practice of naming villages after edible plants (Pamplemousses, Pointe-aux-Piments, etc.).2 The Creole language distinguishes four classes of animals: zanimo zuozo bebet pudson
(large) land based mammals (all introduced) flying vertebrates (birds and bats) creepy crawlies water creatures (fish, whales, crayfish etc.)
Names for individual species reflect the dominance of the plantation system. Insects, for instance, often bear names signaling their association with commercial crops: bebet banan bebet kafe bebet koko bebet zak
(banana) (coffee) (coconut) (jack fruit) etc.
Commercial fishery is an important activity in Mauritius, and Baker (1995) identifies 700 named species employing 171 root words. An analysis of these names demonstrates a considerable amount of creativity on the part of Creole speakers, as only 52 were borrowed from French and 48 from other (mainly African) sources.
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Particularly prominent are names derived, by metaphorical process, from nouns for other animals such as: burik lisyes lyon kanar los kankrela
donkey (fish) dog (fish) lion (fish) duck (fish) slug (fish) cockroach (fish)
Compounding is used in fish names for fish which, in popular belief are of mixed parentage3: burs toto karang sampet
mixed burs and toad fish mixed karang and St Peter’s fish
To what extent the belief in mixed parentage is a local development rather than a retention of African belief systems remains to be investigated. More examples of such adaptation can be found in Mühlhäusler (1996a).
Language Content In a number of papers (e.g. Mühlhäusler, 2011), I argue that creolistics has tended to overemphasize the formal and general properties of Creole languages to the neglect of their substantive and singular lexical properties. Rather than assuming that Creoles can express anything their speakers need or want to say as soon as they come into being, I tried to demonstrate, with data from a range of Creoles, that lexical adaptation to new natural environments is a prolonged and gradual process. An ecolinguistic perspective regards language as a management tool enabling its users to sustain functional links between themselves and their social and natural environments. Halliday (1990) suggested that grammars are the fossilized memory of experiences. Grammar (especially syntax and nonce word formation) is concerned with percepts or singularities. Grammar determines on how such singularities are routinely spoken about and/or perceived. In particular, compulsory grammatical categories such as number, gender, tense or aspect distinctions or typological properties such as ergativity privilege certain perceptions. Lexical items again can be seen as fossilized products of experience. They are used to express socially favored concepts or generalities. Pidgins are characterized by a near absence of compulsory grammatical categories and hence neutral and capable of being used by speakers of widely differing first languages. This neutrality enables them to be used in many different situations. Similar culturally neutral properties are also characteristic of their lexicon, where a small number of words (about 1,000 for more expanded pidgins) can be used to talk about a large number of concepts.4 The principles underlying the creation of BASIC English (Mühlhäusler and Mühlhäusler, 2005) specify that 800 words plus 50 specialist words for particular domains of use are sufficient to cover the referential needs of a speech community. However, such claims ignore parts of the lexicon that a rarely discussed by creolists, including proper nouns for people, places, ghosts, pets and others. Nash (2013), for instance lists more than 1,000 Norf’k placenames, which fulfill a number of important functions in this language. They serve as topological reference points, memories of past events and owners, different types of ownership and 142
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family settlement patterns. Cassidy (1971) documents thousands of plant names in Jamaican Creole, an old creole that acquired such referential sophistication over almost four centuries.
The Impact of Pidgins and Creoles on Language Ecologies Pidgins by definition develop where languages are in contact. Their impact on the language ecology can be both a stabilizing factor for existing linguistic diversity or a destructive one. I have developed this theme in a number of papers (1996a, 1996b, 1997), and I discussed the impact of the latter type of pidgin on linguistic diversity in a chapter in Mühlhäusler (1996c). Whilst both types of Pidgin serve to enable speakers of different languages to communicate in specific domains of discourse, they fulfill entirely different social roles. The first type, found in many parts of the world with a high degree of linguistic diversity, is an important factor in preserving such diversity and ensuring that no language can dominate or promote the abandonment of another language. The function as a buffer between different language communities is reflected in the structure of the various intergroup pidgins. Dutton (1983) showed that there was not a single trade pidgin used by the Motuans in their annual hiris (trade voyages) to the Gulf of Papua, but several ones with a kind of common denominator grammar and different lexicon for each of them. Foley (1988) found the same for the various inter-village pidgins in the Sepik area. In particular, different varieties, each of them exhibiting different lexical composition, were used with the different communities the Yimas traded with. The great linguistic diversity found in this part of the Sepik area thus remained undisturbed. Contrasting with such equitable precolonial pidgins, the pidgins introduced by Western colonizers were the result of deliberate colonial language policymaking and planning concerned with meeting the aims of external colonizing powers, to: • • •
expedite social control; minimize administrative costs; replace Indigenous languages and cultures in order to establish a more efficient communication system.
Importantly, the single Pidgins that became used, although lexically based on the colonizers’ languages (English, French, German etc.), were seen as transitional to eventual mastery of the colonizers’ language or (in the case of Hiri Motu or Bazaar Malay) a chosen administrative language. The impact of colonial pidgins on the local language ecology was two-fold. In the first instance it obliterated preexisting forms of intergroup communication such as inter-village pidgins, institutionalized multilingualism or special sign languages by replacing them with a single language for intercommunication. Second, because of their prestige and utilitarian value they were used in an ever increasing number of domains, first in addition to those of traditional languages and gradually as replacements. In the case of pidgins associated with colonial control the ecological metaphor of survival of the fittest is appropriate. As the new pidgins expanded structurally and in terms of their domains and functions, traditional languages became weakened and, in many cases, began to disappear. Such disappearance in many parts of Australia and Melanesia was compensated by creolization of the expanded pidgin. Instead of endemic multilingualism in Aboriginal languages (with individuals using up to a dozen languages) Kriol and English are used in the much impoverished present-day language ecology, Broken has replaced the 143
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traditional languages of the Torres Straits and in the larger urban centers and surroundings of Papua New Guinea, the Solomon Islands and Vanuatu, creolized Melanesian Pidgin and English make up the total linguistic repertoire of a growing number of speakers. The endpoint will probably be mono-lingualism in English. Bahasa Indonesia, a creolized and standardized form of Bazaar Malay, continues to replace the traditional first languages of large proportions of the population of Indonesia.
Ecological Metaphors Progress in any branch of knowledge is typically achieved by employing new heuristic metaphors to a field of enquiry. Examples in linguistics include the family tree metaphor and the geological metaphors of strata and drift in historical linguistics and the systems metaphor in structuralist approaches. As metaphors are tools rather than iconic representations of reality they have utilitarian rather than truth value and over time may become less useful and in some instances may become an obstacle to progress such as the problematic mechanistic conduit metaphor of communication that underpins most contemporary nonecological approaches to linguistics. The ecology metaphor and the numerous derived cognate metaphors such as ‘niche,’ ‘habitat,’ ‘support system,’ etc., by contrast, are highly productive as they suggest attention to factors not suggested by other metaphors. Thus, when asking questions about the formation, expansion or contraction of pidgins and creoles one can ask what ecological factors are necessary and sufficient for this to happen. Importantly, because of their low social status and the disappearance of the ecological factors that sustain them a growing number of creoles have become endangered in recent years (Ehrhart et al., 2006). My own metaphor of Pidgins being weeds that outcompete other languages in a disturbed linguistic ecology like 19th-century Australia (Mühlhäusler, 1996c: 75–77) has been attacked by some of my colleagues as insensitive. I note, however, that in the case of Australia, particularly the southern part, the disturbance of the cultural and natural ecologies coincided as did the spread of Pidgin English and introduced diseases and the loss of Aboriginal languages. When working on the Atlas of Languages for Intercultural Communication (Wurm et al., 1996), we explored the use of epidemiological maps as overlays on our language maps, a project that was not undertaken because of cost factors.5 The term ’ecology ‘is derived from the Greek work for home, oikos. A home does not only provide the support factors that sustain pidgins and creole; a large number of different homes are possible and account for the communalities and differences among pidgin and creole languages. Again, there can be many derived metaphors such as that of moving house. Pidgins and creoles like their speakers were frequently relocated either voluntarily or by force. The relocation of these languages into new social and natural ecologies not only accounts for numerous historical links between the creoles of the Atlantic, the Indian Ocean and the Pacific (e.g., St. Kitts Creole and Pitkern, Australian Aboriginal and Melanesian Pidgin, Reunion French Creole and Tayo) but also suggests the repeated need of adapting creoles to new environments. Although there certainly is more glory for researchers into universal properties, there nevertheless is a need also to address the singularities resulting from the different ecologies in which these languages emerge. As more historical details are becoming known, new additional types of creole are added to Bickerton’s (1988) four types of plantation, fort, shipboard and maroon creoles, including beach community creoles such as Bonin English,
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Pitkern and Palmerston English, as well as dormitory Creoles such as ‘Unserdeutsch’ and Roper River Kriol and many others.
Conclusions The question ‘What can creolistics learn from ecolinguistics?’ regrettably is an unecological question, suggesting that learning is a one-way process. A better way of looking at it would be to explore what creolistics and ecolinguistics can learn from each other. My main conclusion is that ecolinguistics as well as creolistics are both areas of a specific subject matter and perspectives on the nature of human language(s). Creolistics for many years has operated under self-imposed constraints, i.e. constraints dictated by the linguistic mainstream. Instead of becoming a corrective to some of the limitations of a parameter poor mainstream linguistics, as its founders had hoped, creolistics has remained at the dead center of structuralist approaches to language. This is a great pity as pidgins and creoles offer fantastic insights into questions such as language genesis and development when studied empirically, ideally as participant observer during extended field work. Ecolinguistics for very different reasons again has remained constrained by not making use of the large number of parameters (e.g., language contact and mixing) within its scope, by privileging ideological purity and by neglecting solid empirical investigation. Both ecolinguistics and creolistics have the potential significantly to advance linguistics and it would be a pity for them to remain separate subfields at the periphery of the mainstream. Bringing together the insights of ecolinguistics and creolinguistics as pioneered by Calvet, Ehrhart, Mufwene and the contributors to Ludwig et al. (2016) is just the beginning.
Further Reading Chaudenson, R. (2001), Creolization of Language and Culture. London: Routledge. De Camp, D. and Hancock, I. F. (eds.) (1974), Pidgins and Creoles: Current Trends and Prospects. Washington, DC: Georgetown University Press. Dillard, J. L. (1972), Black English: Its History and Usage in the United States. New York: Random House, Vintage Books. Enninger, W. (1984), Studies in Language Ecology. Wiesbaden: Steiner. Fill, A. (1993), Ökolinguistik: Eine Einführung. Tübingen: Gunter Narr. Haarmann, H. (1980), Multilingualismus 2: Elemente einer Sprachökologie, Tübingen: Gunter Narr. Harré, R., Brockmeier, J. and Mühlhäusler, P. (1999), Greenspeak: A Study of Environmental Discourse. Thousand Oaks: Sage. Hymes, D. H. (ed.) (1971), Pidginization and Creolization of Languages. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Mufwene, S. S. (2008), Language Evolution: Contact, Competition and Change. London: Continuum Press. Trudgill, P. (2004), New-Dialect Formation: The Inevitability of Colonial Englishes. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Notes 1 In Mühlhäusler (2012: 123) I have argued with regard to the seemingly highly complex system of Norf’k deictic pronouns: “One might wish to argue that the complexity of the deictic pronouns of Norf’k are iconic of the complexity of the society in which it is used. This would necessitate abandoning the neglect of the communicative function of grammar. In my view it makes little sense to
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ask questions about the simplicity of any tool (and languages are tools employed in the business of communication) unless one also considers the tasks in which it is employed.” 2 In Pitkern and Norf’k similar naming practices may be observed. Pitkern (Ross and Moverley, 1964: 186–187) list, among others the following placenames: Aute (paper mulberry), Big-Tree, Bread Fruit Valley, The Cabbage, The Coffee, The Grapevine, Hulianda (oleander), the Mango, Under-the-Orange, Tunny Nut Valley. In Norf’k one finds: LowTop Pine, Horsepiss Bend (after an invasive weed), Hollow Pine, Fig Walley, Dar Tomato, Dar Cabbage. 3 Whorf (1956: 261–262) discusses a similar example (coon cat) in New England English. 4 The Tok Pisin Bible translation, for instance, employs fewer than 1,000 lexical types. 5 Introduced diseases such as malaria and yellow fever played a major role in shaping demography and settlement patterns in the West Indies (see McNeil, 2010) and to some extent determine the relocation and spread of the plantation creoles spoken there.
References Atkinson, J. (1989), ‘Introduced animals and extinctions,’ in D. Western and M. Peal (eds.), Conservation for the Twenty-First Century. Oxford: Oxford University Press, pp. 54–75. Avram, A. (2006), ‘Ecology meets ideology: The case of Creole languages’, in A. Avram, M. Constantin, S. Marton, M. Oprea, M. Pakucs, B. Palade, D. Petrescu, C. Iosif Sîrbu, M. Tataru-Cazaban, L. Tuşa-Ilea (eds.), New Europe College Yearbook 2003–2004. Bucharest: New Europe College, pp. 15–53. Bailey, C.-J. N. (1996), Essays on Time-Based Linguistic Analysis. Oxford: Clarendon Press. Baker, P. (1995), ‘The naming of flora and fauna in Mauritian Creole in a historical and ecological context’, MS papers for the University of Adelaide, Perceptions of Environment Project. Bickerton, D. (1988), ‘Creole languages and the bioprogram’, in F. J. Newmeyer (ed.), Linguistic Theory: Extensions and Implications, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, pp. 268–284. Brown, C. (1977), ‘Folk botanical life forms: Their universality and growth’, American Anthropologist, 79: 317–342. Calvet, L.-J. (2006), Towards an Ecology of World Languages. London: Polity Press. Cassidy, F. (1971), Jamaica Talk. London: Macmillan. Chaudenson, R. (1991), ‘From botany to Creolistics: The contribution of lexicon on the first the debate on Indian Ocean Creole Genesis’, in F. Byrne and T. Huebner (eds.), Development and structures of Creole Languages. Essays in Honor of Derek Bickerton [Creole Language Library 9], pp. 91–100. Crosby, A. W. (1986), Ecological Imperialism. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. De Camp, D. (1974), ‘Neutralizations, interactives and ideophones: The locus of language in Jamaica’, in D. De Camp and I. F. Hancock (eds.), pp. 46–60. Denison, N. (1982), ‘A linguistic ecology for Europe?’ Folia Linguistica, 16(1–4): 5–16. Drechsel, E. (2014), Language Contact in the Early Colonial Pacific. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Dutton, T. E. (1983), Hiri Motu—Iena Sivarai. Port Moresby: University of Papua New Guinea Press. Ehrhart, S. (2012), L’écologie des langues de contact. Paris: L’Harmattan. Ehrhart, S., Mair, C. and Mühlhäusler, P. (2006), ‘Pidgins and Creoles between endangerment and empowerment’, in M. Pütz, J. A. Fishman and J.-A. Neff van-Aertselaer (eds.), Along the Routes to Power: Explorations of Empowerment Through Language. Berlin: De Gruyter, pp. 129–156. Fill, A. (ed.) (1996), Sprachökologie und Ökolinguistik. Tübingen: Stauffenburg. Fill, A. and Mühlhäusler, P. (eds.) (2001), The Ecolinguistics Reader. London, New York: Continuum. Fleischmann, U. (1978), Das Französisch-Kreolische in der Karibik: Zur Funktion von Sprache im sozialen und geographischen Raum. Berlin: Habil.-schrift, Freie Universität Berlin. Foley, W. (1988), ‘Language birth: The sociolinguistics of pidginization and creolization’, in F. Newmeyer and R. Ubells (eds.), Linguistics: The Cambridge Survey. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, pp. 162–183. Halliday, M. A. K. (1990), ‘New ways of meaning: The challenge to applied linguistics’, Journal of Applied Linguistics, 6: 7–36. 146
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Introduction The first definition of ecolinguistics was probably what Haugen (1972: 325) called the “ecology of language,” which he defined as: “the study of interactions between any given language and its environment.” The problem with this definition is that it reifies language, viewing it as a ‘thing’ that is seen in relation to another thing, i.e., its environment. However, this definition can be salvaged if we define language appropriately. The expression “environment of language” is equivalent to the environment of the interactions that obtain inside an ecosystem, because, as we will see, language is interaction. Traditional theories of language generally reify language by considering it an instrument of communication and of thought. However, if we define it ecologically as interaction, this other kind of reification is avoided. The central concept of ecology is the ecosystem. All handbooks of ecology define this as consisting of the inter-relationships between the population of organisms living in its territory or habitat. These handbooks also stress the fact that the central and defining concept of an ecosystem is interaction. For this reason, the branch of ecolinguistics presented in this chapter is called ecosystemic linguistics. Accordingly, language is the interactions that obtain inside the linguistic ecosystem. The objective of this chapter is to present ecosystemic linguistics as a branch of ecolinguistics that looks at its object of study as an ecological phenomenon. This view of language is in synchrony with the world view established by relativity theory and quantum mechanics. Most theories of language operate on the level of classical mechanics, including generative grammar, despite the fact that Noam Chomsky was well aware of what was going on in the scientific fields mentioned earlier. Being radically ecological, ecosystemic linguistics sees language not as an instrument of communication, but as communication itself. In a way, this idea is already present in Haugen (1972).
Why ‘Ecosystemic Linguistics’? Definition and Origins Ecosystemic linguistics (EL) is obviously so called because it starts from the central concept of ecology, viz. the ecosystem. According to EL, language is seen as an ecological 149
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phenomenon, not from without, i.e. metaphorically, but from within. EL is part of ecology, so that an alternative name for it is linguistic ecology (Sprachökologie), and not ecological linguistics, i.e. the noun is ecology, with linguistic as the adjective. An ecosystemic linguist is an ecologist studying language phenomena, not a linguist studying them by borrowing concepts from ecology and using these concepts as metaphors (cf. Garner, 2004). He is an “écologiste de la langue,” as Hagège (1985: 326) said of Charles Nodier. As will be shown in the next section in more detail, the initial concept of EL is the linguistic ecosystem. In biological ecology, an ecosystem consists of a population (P) of organisms and the interactions (Is) between organisms and between an organism and its environment or territory (T). In EL, the linguistic ecosystem consists of a people (P), whose members live in their territory (T) and communicate according to the usual way of communicating in their community (L). The only difference between the two, if this is a difference at all, is that in biological ecology we have Is (interactions), whereas in linguistic ecology this I is L (language). For EL language is interaction. Some ideas of ecosystemic linguistics go back at least as far as Sapir (1912), who was the author of the first written essay explicitly associating ‘language’ with ‘environment,’ meaning by the latter the context where language is used. Sixty years later this pioneering proposal was taken up by Einar Haugen, under the name of ‘ecology of language.’ Haugen has been rightly considered the ‘father of ecolinguistics,’ although he did not use this term in print (but he did use it orally in 1972). Instead, he used ‘ecology of language’ and ‘language ecology.’ As far as I know, the first author to suggest the use of ‘ecosystem’ in language studies since the 1970’s was Peter Finke (see Finke, 1996, 2000). He was followed by Trampe (1990), who—starting from his PhD dissertation of 1988—discussed the use of ‘ecosystem’ in linguistics in more detail. However, the first time the term ‘ecosystemic linguistics’ appeared in print was in Strohner (1996), as a metaphor. EL has also taken up some ideas from the ‘dialectical ecolinguistics’ of Odense (Denmark), among which are the biological, the ideological and the sociological dimensions of the study of language phenomena (Bang and Døør, 2007). These dimensions gave rise to the natural, the mental and the social ecosystems of language presented later. Another source of inspiration is Guattari’s (1989) three ‘ecologies’ (natural, mental, social). Leonardo Boff—the Brazilian ecologist, philosopher and co-proponent of ‘liberation theology’—added a fourth ‘ecology’ to the three, namely “integral ecology” (Boff, 2012). In all these approaches, ecosystemic linguistics places language inside a linguistic ecosystem, where it is seen as interaction.
The Biological and the Linguistic Ecosystem General ecology may be divided, among many other disciplines, into biological ecology and linguistic ecology, the latter being an alternative name for ecosystemic linguistics. Inside the biological and the linguistic ecosystem, there are the environments of the respective population. Because we are dealing with language, the following question must be asked: What is the environment of language? If language is interaction, not a thing, one reasonable answer to this question is the following: the environment of language is the locus of the linguistic interactions. As a matter of fact, linguistic interactions in this sense take place not only in one locus, but in three loci, all of them included in a fourth one of a more general character (Couto, 2007: 122, 2015).
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The forerunner of ecolinguistics, Edward Sapir, already mentioned a ‘physical environment’ and a ‘social environment’ of language, although not exactly in the same sense in which these terms are now understood in ecosystemic linguistics. He added that “under physical environment are comprised geographical characters, such as the topography of the country (whether coast, valley, plain, plateau, or mountain), climate, and amount of rainfall, and what may be called the economic basis of human life, under which term are comprised the fauna, flora, and mineral resources of the region” (Sapir, 1912: 227). However, he did not include the population in the physical environment of language. Regarding the social environment, he said: “Under social environment are comprised the various forces of society that mold the life and thought of each individual. Among the more important of these social forces are religion, ethical standards, form of political organization, and art” (Sapir, 1912: 227). Sapir did not mention the mental environment of language directly, although he talked about “the stock of concepts forming the mental stock in trade, as it were, of the group” (p. 236). Haugen, too, mentions a ‘social’ and a ‘natural environment’ of language. He writes that “language exists only in the minds of its users, and it only functions in relating these users to one another and to nature. Part of its ecology is therefore psychological: its interaction with the other languages in the minds of bi- and multilingual speakers. Another part of its ecology is sociological: its interaction with the society in which it functions as a medium of communication” (Haugen, 1972: 325). He does recognize a mental environment of language, despite the fact that the mind is where language exists (Haugen, 1972: 325). Døør and Bang (1996: 17) say: “By ‘environment’ we refer to the ideological environment (the mental organization), the biological environment (the physical organization), and the sociological environment (the social organization) in their dialectical relations.” From a natural standpoint, a language only exists if there is a specific people, like the Kamayrás (P1) living in their land, i.e., the Indigenous Reservation of the Xingu River (T1) in Brazil. They interact by means of their specific way of interacting, i.e. by using the Kamayurá language (L1). In this case, the members of P1 have proper names, and T1 is a concrete stretch of land in the reservation. As for L1, it is seen from the physiological, biological and physical point of view, including the proxemic, kinesic and paralinguistic components of communication. This is the natural ecosystem of language (L1P1T1), inside which P1 and T1 make up the natural environment of language, i.e., where language interactions take place. Chomsky once said that language is a phenomenon of nature. The problem with this statement, as in the whole metaphysical tradition, is that he sees mental phenomena as natural in so far as they are mirror-images of natural phenomena. In EL they are seen as filtered by P. A second facet of language is the mental aspect, as Chomsky has also emphasized. It is in the mind and brain that language is formed, stored and processed. These form the mental ecosystem of language (L2P2T2). The brain is the locus of the mental interactions, therefore the T side of this ecosystem (T2), is to be distinguished from the T1 of the natural environment of language. According to António Damásio (cf. 1994), the mind is the active side of the brain, i.e. its functioning, and hence, the P aspect of this ecosystem (P2). From the mental point of view, language is the neuronal interactions themselves (L2). Inside this ecosystem, P2 and T2 form the mental environment of language (L2). To most people, including Haugen, language is a social phenomenon, in which case only the social ecosystem of language would exist (L3P3T3). This is indeed language’s most conspicuous side but, as we have just seen, it is only one third of it. This ecosystem is formed by the totality of individuals of the community, looked at as ‘interindividualities’ or
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‘intersubjectivities,’ i.e., social beings. This totality of social beings is the collectivity (P3). The locus of the social interactions that take place among them is society (T3), and the interactions themselves make up language as a social phenomenon (L3). In this case, the social environment of language is P3 plus T3. Some theories see language as a natural/biological phenomenon. Others see it as a mental phenomenon. The majority of theories, however, see language as a social phenomenon. As a matter of fact, language is all this. It is a biopsychosocial phenomenon, to borrow a term from the health sciences. In other words, ecolinguistics sees language holistically, although each researcher must restrict themselves to a limited side of it. They are able to study only one of its aspects at a time because they are not omniscient. From a biopsychosocial standpoint we also have the integral ecosystem of language (LPT), incorporating the three preceding ecosystems. The integral ecosystem is language from a general point of view. Inside this general ecosystem of language, P plus T form the integral environment of language. This ecosystem may be seen from two perspectives: the language community and the speech community. Language community (cf. German Sprachgemeinschaft) is relatively easy to define. Its domain refers to what we call language in common parlance. Thus, the language community of the Kamayurá language is limited to the domain of the T of the Kamayurá ethnic group in the Xingu Reservation. The German language community, on the other hand, comprises Germany, Austria, parts of Switzerland, parts of France and so on: In other words, those regions of the world where the system of German is used, independently of concrete acts of communicative interaction. It is language seen from the point of view of the system. It seems to correspond to the biome of ecology. A speech community (cf. German Interaktionsgemeinschaft, Kommunikations-gemeinschaft, Sprechgemeinschaft and Saussure’s langueparole), in turn, is delimited by the linguist, as is the case with the biological ecosystem, which is delimited by the biologist. In this case, a city, a town, a neighborhood, a family or a whole country or continent may be delimited as a speech community. Many speech communities around the world are monolingual, but many of them are bilingual/multilingual or bidialectal/multidialectal, as is the case with the city of Brussels. A speech community is the linguistic ecosystem par excellence. When it coincides with a language community, as is the case with the Kamayurás, we have a simple speech community, the ideal situation; if it does not coincide, we have a complex speech community.
The Ecology of Communicative Interaction Probably over 80% of existing linguistic theories reify language by seeing it as an instrument of communication, or of expression of thought. Their view implies that language is a ‘thing’ used to ‘understand’ what is heard (structuralism) or a ‘thing’ that is in interaction with another thing, e.g., its environment—or another language—as in Haugen’s definition. It must be emphasized, however, that Haugen added the following caveat: [L]anguage is called a “tool” or an “instrument of communication,” by which it is compared to a hammer or a wheelbarrow or a computer, each of which serves as a means to achieve a human goal that might be difficult or impossible to achieve without it. But unlike these it has usually not been deliberately constructed. It cannot be taken apart and put together again, or tinkered with to improve its efficiency. (Haugen, 1972: 326)
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In ecosystemic linguistics, language is decidedly not just an instrument of communication, nor is it just expression of thought. It is communication itself and expression of thought. The idea of language as interaction goes back to at least the late Middle Ages, to the Spanish humanist Vives, and the beginning of the 19th century, to Humboldt, who saw it as energeia, not ergon. Closer to our times we could mention Mikhail Bakhtin and Eugenio Coseriu. According to both of these, language is basically interaction, albeit for different reasons. In a similar vein, Alwin Fill said that “Structuralism researches and describes the state of water in the dam (synchrony) or the development of a wave of the river (diachrony), whereas ecology looks at the flow itself” (Fill, 1993: 5, my translation). EL, too, sees language as a flow of interactive communication. Language consists of interaction of three types: person-person interaction (communication), person-environment interaction (reference) and “structural interactions” (grammar). The center of language is communicative interaction. According to this, when two people (p1, p2) of a speech community engage in conversation, they exchange their roles as speaker and hearer. The person who was speaker in the first moment (S1) becomes hearer at the moment of the answer (H2). The person who was hearer in the first moment (H1) becomes speaker at the second (S2), and so on ad libitum. Let us look at the flow of dialog in a communicative interaction, illustrated with an example given by Makkai (1993: 173). Apparently, p1 is Makkai himself and p2 is one of his neighbors.
Communicative Interaction p1 p2 S1 → H1 (Hey, Jack, come on over here! Quick! Look what happened. . . .) ↓ ↓ H2 ← S2 (What’s wrong?) ↓ ↓ S3 → H3 (Fifi was running across the street with a bone in his mouth he snatched from our Pogi, and just that moment ↓ ↓ this car comes tearing along at a million miles an hour with the police after them) H4 ← S4 (Oh, no. . . . . .) ↓ ↓ S5 → H5 (I am afraid he’s had it Jack. . . . Look . . . This is really awful) ↓ ↓ . . . . . . . (and so on) Acts of communicative interaction like these take place inside an ecology of communicative interaction. This presupposes the existence of interlocutors, a speaker (I) and a hearer (you). Since nobody is alone in the world, at least implicitly there are two additional participants— not just one, as Bang and Døør (2007: 157–161) suggested—namely the one (or the ones) or something on the side of the speaker (he1) and the one (or the ones) or something on the side of the hearer (he2). They are the object of the dialog. The two together are represented by they. There are other combinations of these participants, for instance I + you = we (inclusive); I + he1 = we (exclusive); you + he2 = you (plural, excludes he1); you + he1 = you (plural, includes he1). In Couto (2015) there is a relatively detailed treatment of the emergence of the deictic pronouns, and of language in general, out of the ecology of communicative
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interaction. In the phylogenetic and ontogenetic development of language, he1 and he2 are gradually replaced by nouns, that is, nouns replace pronouns, not the other way round, as Charles Peirce thought. This ecology also includes a common language, comprising interactional rules and systemic rules (grammar). So far, we have delineated 15 interactional rules. Some of them are universal (S and H must be near one another), but some are conventional (politeness rules). Interactional rules include systemic rules, which form the 15th type of interactional rules. This is due to the fact that they too exist to make understanding possible. There is also a setting or scenario inside which the acts of communicative interaction take place. Communicative interaction is the essence of language. Language lives in it. In the absence of acts of communicative interaction, it starts to obsolesce and, eventually, dies out. Ecosystemically, a language is alive when there are at least two speakers who interact using it. When one of them dies, the language is also dead. The mere competence of a solitary person is not enough because there is nobody with whom they could interact linguistically. Latin is called a dead language, which is still used, but only in artificial situations, not in the daily situations of life of a speech community. Every dialog has a beginning, but nobody knows which direction it will take, nor when it will end. The short dialog presented earlier is the second version of a longer one Makkai had presented previously, with regard to which he said: “I do not know my neighbor and also happen to be a somewhat cautious person” (1993: 187). Therefore, he had to be more formal and give more information to his hearer, which made the dialog a bit longer. Concerning the shorter version presented earlier, he knew both his neighbor and his dog. Makkai presents other versions of the subject of the dialog, e.g., one that took place between himself and his wife. Finally, he presents the event in the form of a report by a social columnist from the local newspaper. Makkai’s hidden intention was to show that formal models of language, like generative grammar, are unable to deal with facts of language in use like these, whereas stratificational linguistics (neurocognitive linguistics), and, of course, ecolinguistics, can explain them in a straightforward way. One important point to be stressed is that successful acts of communicative interaction presuppose communion between the interlocutors. Communion is a kind of solidarity, symbiosis and willingness to communicate. When there is communion between two people, or among members of a group of people, there is satisfaction about simply being together. In this case, they are communicating without words. The mere knowledge of systemic rules is not enough if there is no communion. Communion is a kind of silent communication. Without communion there is no successful communication.
Exoecology and Endoecology of Language Haugen (1972: 336–337) said that the “ecology of language” should deal with at least ten subjects, among which are sociolinguistics, ethnolinguistics, glottopolitics, dialectology, typology and others. This agenda was expanded by Fill (1987) to include questions about language and conflict, relations between men and women, anthropocentrism and several more. All these subjects fall under what Makkai (1993) called the exoecology of language. However, some investigators think that ecolinguistics should also investigate Makkai’s endoecology, i.e., grammar. Among these are Makkai himself, Peter Finke, Mark Garner, Salikoko Mufwene and students of ecosystemic linguistics. This is due to the fact that the discipline looks at its object from a holistic point of view. EL starts from a unified point of view from which the investigator can study any aspect of language, perhaps even with the 154
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help of an expert. EL is not only interdisciplinary; it is multidisciplinary and multimethodological. For this reason, it includes both the exoecology and the endoecology of language. Let me point out, however, that this distinction is only included here because of the overwhelming pressure of the linguistic tradition.
The Exoecology of Language The exoecology of language studies the interactions between language and its users, their territory, and between and among languages, as well as the ten subjects Haugen, Fill and others have suggested. Language contact is one of these subjects. From the ecolinguistic point of view, the contact that occurs directly is not between languages, but rather between nations, or parts thereof, together with their cultures and languages. As can be gathered from Mufwene (2001), language is a parasitic species (or even better, an ‘epiphyte’) of the nation that speaks it. Therefore, language contact obtains when there is migration. Four types of migration are relevant to contact studies (cf. Couto, 2009). The first type of contact obtains when a group of individuals of a people (P1)—or the whole people—migrate to the territory of a dominant people (P2). The migrating people are in general socioeconomically and militarily weaker than the people of the host territory. The linguistic outcome of this kind of contact depends on several variables, for instance the number of individuals, the time of stay in the host country and so on. If only one individual moves, their language disappears because there is nobody to whom they can talk. If it is a relatively large group of individuals, they may form an enclave inside which the original language may be used. This is the case with the German and Japanese language islands in Brazil (Couto, 2014). However, as time goes by, their language is more and more influenced by the environing one. In the long run, it may disappear. This has happened to many immigrants in the United States. The Hispanics are a special case, due not only to history—the British colonizer encroached the domain of the Spaniards—but also to geography, viz. the neighborhood of Mexico and Central America. There is always feedback from new individuals and groups of individuals entering the United States. If the group of immigrants comprises a father, mother and a young child, the most common outcome is the ‘three generation law.’ The father and mother learn at most an L2 version of the local language. Their child will be bilingual in the parents’ language and the local one. When this child becomes an adult and has his or her own children, these will be native speakers of the local language, frequently with only a passive knowledge of the parents’ language, if at all. The second type of language contact is the result of the migration to, or invasion of, the territory of an Indigenous or native people by members—or the totality—of a dominant people, as was the case with the colonization of most of the world by European powers. The linguistic result may be of several kinds. First of all, the colonizers may impose their language on the majority of the local ethnic groups, which may be pushed to small enclaves in their own territory (Couto, 2014). In some cases, the native groups resisted learning the language of the European invader. Since the contact with the latter was unavoidable, a pidginized or creolized version of the colonizer’s language frequently emerged, as was the case with Sierra Leone, Papua-New Guinea and Guinea-Bissau. The third type obtains when both the dominant and the dominated groups move to a third territory. This happened in Cape Verde and Mauritius, among several other islands. Very frequently, a creole language emerges in situations like these. In Cape Verde, for instance, there is the Cape Verdean Portuguese Creole; in Mauritius, there is the Mauritian French Creole (moricien). 155
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The fourth type of contact obtains when members of P1 occasionally and temporarily move to the territory of P2 for trade, or vice-versa. One example is the movement of Russians during the summer to the north of Norway in order to sell their goods and buy fish. This contact gave rise to Russenorsk, a Russian-Norwegian Pidgin. In Papua-New Guinea something similar took place, leading to a language called Hiri Motu, even before the arrival of the Europeans. But a much more common situation occurs on the border between the domains of two languages and, in some cases, between two countries. In Couto (2009: 149–164), I discuss the case of the border between Brazil and Uruguay. Traditional contact studies would show linguistic interferences of Spanish into Portuguese and/or vice versa. Ecosystemic linguistics, on the contrary, privileges the way communicative interaction takes place. Interferences are also important, but by no means the most important aspect. Because ecosystemic linguistics looks at its object of study from a holistic point of view, it must also be able to deal with text/discourse. In this sense, an exoecological offshoot of it is emerging, under the name of critical ecosystemic linguistics (CEL), or ecological discourse analysis (EDA). It pushes forward Fill’s (1993) idea of using language to avoid conflict—or to put an end to it—as well as the suggestion of positive discourse analysis by looking for the ‘positive’ side of a question, not the ‘negative’ one (Martin, 2004; Stibbe, this volume). This idea is also influenced by Taoism, Arne Naess’ deep ecology and Gandhi’s life. EDA is that part of EL that uses ideas from these sources—together with the ecological view of the world—in order to analyze texts/discourses. Discourse analysis and critical discourse analysis are traditionally based on ideology and power relations. This ideology is explicitly or implicitly Marxist. Marxist ideology is interested in the conflict between, for instance, a dominant and a dominated class, of which the latter must defeat the former. EDA takes a radically different position. Instead of ideology and power relations, it bases itself on the preservation of life on earth and on an avoidance of suffering. This is not to say that ideology and power relations do not exist. They are inevitable. However, EDA followers take a Gandhian approach to the question, hoping to resolve it peacefully, without conflict or violence. Let us look at the case of a woman who suffers at the hands of a drunken husband who beats her almost every day. EDA defends her not because she is a woman, but because she is a human (and animal) being who is suffering. Defending the woman from the point of view of ideology would be a form of discrimination that is upside down or the wrong way round. According to the principles of EL, the husband’s offense may be of three types: physical (natural), mental and social. It is physical when he beats her or, in extreme cases, kills her. It is mental when he tortures her, calls her names and so on. Finally, the offense may be social when he tries to ridicule her or to slander her within the family or the community. However, there are degrees of suffering. For instance, a pinch (physical suffering) is much less offensive than sexual or moral harassment. Torture may cause psychic, mental or physical suffering. Of course, suffering is part of life. However, as Arne Naess (1989: 171) says, “you shall not inflict unnecessary suffering upon other living beings!” The same principles apply to the case of infanticide among some ethnic groups. Ecological discourse analysts are against this practice because it implies the maximum suffering a living being can undergo, i.e., death. However, some anthropologists might say that we cannot interfere because it is an ancient cultural practice. Not allowing the group to follow its customs would amount to inflicting suffering on the community as a whole, i.e., social suffering. In this case, it is important to point out that cultural practices can change over time, whereas death is irreversible. In this and in all similar situations, EDA stays on the
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side of life. Besides that, almost all these groups are already totally or partially acculturated. Therefore, we ought to save children from this practice whenever possible. In the case of unacculturated and uncontacted groups, if they still exist at all, we must leave them alone and not interfere with their practices. However, even in this case, if it is possible to rescue a child who is condemned to be sacrificed, why not do it? After all, according to ecoideology, life comes first. As a matter of fact, each case is a case of its own. There are no infallible ‘rules’ to be followed in each of them. EDA only offers general guidelines, with some hints as to how to act. Deciding what to do in each concrete situation is indeed a difficult task. For a more detailed discussion and application of EDA, see Couto et al. (2015). See also Alexander and Stibbe (2014). To give one final example of the possible contributions of ecosystemic linguistics to the knowledge of the dynamics of languages, let us briefly look at Clyne’s (1992) pluricentrism. His proposal represented great progress in this domain. Following it, London is no longer the center of ‘good’ English, nor are all the rest of the English-speaking regions of the world ‘periphery.’ Any town or city of the English language community may be considered ‘the center’ of English when the investigator delimits it as the linguistic ecosystem of English, i.e., the speech community he will study. Notwithstanding the progress this proposal represents, it still implies that rural regions, poor neighborhoods and the like are ‘periphery.’ In ecosystemic linguistics, however, any place whatsoever may be focused on as the speech community to be investigated. No matter the size and prestige of the domain one delimits, at the very moment of the investigation it is the ‘center’ of the language. In other words, like all ecosystems, a language community does not have any general center.
Endoecology Endoecology is the domain of what has traditionally been called ‘structure’ and ‘grammar,’ comprising syntax, morphology, semantics, phonology and, up to a certain point, lexicology. In these areas not much has been done yet from the ecological point-of-view. Makkai’s writings are among the few exceptions. Makkai is a follower of Sydney Lamb’s stratificational grammar (neurocognitive linguistics). Since its beginnings in the 1960s, this grammar has looked at linguistic ‘structure’ not as rigidly unidirectional, but as a network of relationships. This theory arose at the same time as generative grammar. However, due to the prestige of Noam Chomsky, it did not catch on. In order to gain an idea of how it works, let us see what Lamb says with regard to the relational network of the concept ‘cat’ in the mind/brain of the speaker: Taking the concept cat, for example, we have visual connections comprising what a cat looks like, auditory connections for the “meow” and other sounds made by a cat, tactile connections for what a cat feels like to the touch; as well as connections to other concepts representing information about cats in the information system of the person in whose system these connections have been formed. And so a person’s knowledge of cats is represented in the information system by a little network, actually comprising hundreds or thousands of nodes, including a visual subnetwork for the visual features, an auditory network for the “meow,” and so forth, all “held together” by a central coordinating node, to which we can give the label “cat.” (Lamb, 2000: 177)
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The difference between the network of relationships of neurocognitive linguistics, on the one hand, and EL’s view, on the other, lies in the fact that EL does not start from ‘structure.’ At most, ‘structure’ would come at the end of the investigation. The notion of ‘structure’ is useful for limited domains, not for explaining language as a whole. In EL it forms the systemic rules that are part of the interactional rules. For this reason, ecosystemic linguistics deals with the idea of organic networks of relationships. Unfortunately, the formalization of these organic networks of relationships has not yet been carried out, although the representations of neurocognitive linguistics point in the right direction, as can be seen in Lamb’s quotation earlier, as well as in Makkai (1993). The latter contains several graphic representations of these networks. The same principle may be applied to morphology, syntax and phonology. The philosophical idea of the rhizome (Deleuze and Guattari, 1988: 7) is also interesting in this connection. It describes a theory that allows for multiple, nonhierarchical entry and exit points in data representation and interpretation. A rhizomatic representation is planar and trans-species. Any point of a rhizome can be connected to any other, which is very different from the tree model. In the case of linguistics, phrase and word structure are represented in arborescent form, with exclusively binary choices connected linearly. However, the authors say, [T]he linguistic tree on the Chomsky model still begins at a point S and proceeds by dichotomy. On the contrary, not every trait in a rhizome is necessarily linked to a linguistic feature: semiotic chains of every nature are connected to very diverse modes of coding. (Deleuze and Guarari, 1988: 7) Even the father of ecolinguistics said that “the concept of language as a rigid, monolithic structure is false, even if it has proved to be a useful fiction in the development of linguistics” (Haugen, 1972: 335).
Holism and Multimethodology When ecologists delimit the ecosystem to be studied, they take into consideration all the interactions that obtain inside it, not simply a part of them. They look at it holistically. When they need to study one of its aspects in depth, they may resort to the help of other sciences together with their respective methodologies. The same is true for ecosystemic linguistics. For this reason, it is not only transdisciplinary and transmethodological but multidisciplinary and multimethodological. One of the first authors to start using this ecomethodology was Mark Garner. According to him, the traditional analytic and reductionist method is not appropriate to study language phenomena from an ecological point of view. In its place, he suggests the ‘focussing method,’ which he describes as follows: the concept of focussing implies paying close attention to a problem or phenomenon against the background of the context in which it occurs. In a film the camera may focus, for example, on an actor’s face in order to draw attention to a particular expression, but whilst the other elements of the scene are out of focus, they are still there as an essential background to understanding the expression. Even if the face temporarily fills the screen to the exclusion of all else, the camera soon will pan out again in order to capture the wider context. (Garner, 2004: 202) 158
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Traditional theories have been compared to windows through which we can see a limited portion of the object of study. Precisely because their view is limited, investigators can describe its finest details. This is the case with generative grammar, which is able to study cleft sentences, embedded sentences and so on. Autosegmental nonlinear phonology allows an in-depth investigation of the syllable structure of a given language, including syllable onsets, nuclei and codas. Unfortunately, however, this is only a tiny part of language. In order to use an ecological methodology, the investigator would have to go to the roof of the house, from where they would have a general view of the object of investigation. If and when he or she has to study a specific aspect of this object, they may proceed as has just been described by Garner. The result obtained by the analytic-reductionist methodology is then evaluated from the holistic point of view of ecomethodology, using the resources of the ecological view of the world, which is part of the epistemological foundation of ecosystemic linguistics. To say that a scientific model looks at its object of study from a holistic point of view is not the same as saying that it describes it in its entirety at a given time. Ecosystemic linguists are not omniscient, and their science is not a science of everything linguistic. Nor is holism the same as being esoteric or mysterious. A holistic point of view is the opposite of the reductionist point of view of structuralism and generative grammar, and of most scientific models of all areas. When the investigator focuses on a specific aspect of an object, it becomes their center of attention only temporarily. As soon as they finish the analysis they go back to the holistic position. Some trends in ecolinguistics have been ecological mainly because of the object of study (ontology), which in general comprises environmental problems. Some others are ecological because of the theory (epistemology), or because they use ecological concepts metaphorically. Ecosystemic linguistics is ecological epistemologically, ontologically and methodologically. The methodology in traditional science in general goes from theory to the object of study and is thus unidirectional. The ecosystemic linguist may go in both directions, depending on the circumstances. The methodology need not always be given by the theory. The object of study may also suggest the best methodology to use. In this case, there is a dialectical return to the theory. In summary, multimethodology is the side of the coin whose other side is holism. This makes us aware of the fact that any phenomenon may be looked at from several points of view, according to Husserl’s and Ortega y Gassett’s perspectivism. The linguist, for instance, investigates the structure of the syllable, without forgetting that it is part of a morpheme, which is part of a word, which is part of a phrase, which is part of a text and so on. Holism also has an ethical implication. It leads to tolerance, because by following it we at least try to consider all sides of the question, not only the most convenient part of it at the moment. Part is germane to partisanship, which is germane to fundamentalism.
Concluding Remarks Ecosystemic linguistics is part of general ecology, which is part of biology. This does not mean that language is a living organism, as Schleicher put it. Nor is it homologized to a species, as is done by Mufwene (2001). In the first case, it would be the ‘thing’ organism; in the second it would be another type of ‘thing,’ that is, the totality of organisms. As a matter of fact, language is neither of these ‘things.’ It is the verbal interactions that obtain between the members of a population (P). Therefore, ecolinguistics is a life science in the sense that it sees language as an epiphyte of the population, although not of a botanical kind. As shown 159
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earlier, the nucleus of language is the ecology of communicative interaction. Thus, language is not just an instrument of communication, nor of expression of thought. It is both communication and expression of thought. These are the two sides of the same coin. On the one hand, we communicate by expressing thoughts. On the other, we express thoughts by communicating. Ecosystemic linguistics is a different and specific way of doing linguistics. It starts from a unified point of view, from which we can study any language phenomena, perhaps even with the help of a specialist. The result is then evaluated within the framework of the unified optic, be it language-as-system or language-as-interaction. It is a way of avoiding reductionist theories. However, holism is not a kind of magic. There is no “open sesame” to solve linguistic problems. The solution to any problem lies in the down-to-earth. It must be looked for in the epistemological foundations built inside ecology. All this exists in the scenario of the ecological view of the world, which, to say it again, is not magic, but just another way of seeing the world.
Further Reading Chawla, S. (2001), ‘Linguistic and philosophical roots of our environmental crisis’, in A. Fill and P. Mühlhäusler (eds.), pp. 115–123. Mühlhäusler, P. (2003), Language of Environment: Environment of Language. A Course in Ecolinguistics. London: Battlebridge. Steffensen, S. V. (2011), ‘Beyond mind: An extended ecology of languaging’, in S. J. Cowley (ed.), Distributed Language. Amsterdam: John Benjamins, pp. 185–210. Stibbe, A. (2015), Ecolinguistics. Language, Ecology and the Stories We Live By. London, New York: Routledge.
References Alexander, R. and Stibbe, A. (2014), ‘From the analysis of ecological discourse to the ecological analysis of discourse’, Language Sciences, 41: 104–110. Bang, J. C. and Døør, J. (2007), Language, Ecology and Society. London: Continuum. Boff, L. (2012), As quatro ecologias: ambiental, política e social, mental e integral. Rio de Janeiro: Editora Mar de Ideias. Clyne, M. (ed.) (1992), Pluricentric Languages: Differing Norms in Different Nations. Berlin, New York: Mouton de Gruyter. Couto, H. H. do (2007), Ecolinguística: Estudo das relações entre língua e meio ambiente. Brasília: Thesaurus. Couto, H. H. do (2009), Linguística, ecologia e ecolinguística: Contato de línguas. São Paulo: Contexto. Couto, H. H. do (2014), ‘Amerindian language islands in Brazil,’ in S. Mufwene (ed.), Iberian Imperialism and Language Evolution in Latin America. Chicago: Chicago University Press, pp. 76–107. Couto, H. H. do (2015), ‘Linguística ecossistêmica’, Ecolinguística, 1(1): 36–62. http://periodicos. unb.br/index.php/erbel/issue/view/1136 Couto, H. H., do, Couto, E. and Borges, L. (2015), Análise do discurso ecológica (ADE). Campinas: Pontes. Damàsio, A. (1994), Descartes’ Error: Emotion, Reason and the Human Brain. London: Putnam. Deleuze, G. and Guattari, F. (1988), A Thousand Plateaus: Capitalism and Schizophrenia. London: The Athlone Press. Døør, J. and Bang, J. C. (1996), ‘Language, ecology and truth: Dialogue and dialectics,’ in A. Fill (ed.), Sprachökologie und Ökolinguistik. Tübingen: Stauffenburg, pp. 17–25. 160
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Fill, A. (1987), Wörter zu Pflugscharen: Versuch einer Ökologie der Sprache. Vienna: Böhlau. Fill, A. (1993), Ökolinguistik. Eine Einführung. Tübingen: Gunter Narr Verlag. Fill, A. (ed.) (1996), Sprachökologie und Ökolinguistik. Tübingen: Stauffenburg. Finke, P. (1996), ‘Sprache als missing link zwischen natürlichen und kulturellen Ökosystemen’, in A. Fill (ed.), Sprachökologie und Ökolinguistik. Tübingen: Stauffenburg, pp. 27–48. Finke, P. (2000), ‘Zukunftsfähigkeit, heilige Kühe und Grammatik. Metalinguistische Überlegungen am Ende des Baconschen Zeitalters’, in B. Kettemann and H. Penz (eds.), pp. 63–83. Garner, M. (2004), Language: An Ecological View. Oxford: Peter Lang. Guattari, F. (1989), Les trois écologies. Paris: Galilée. Hagège, C. (1985), L’homme de paroles. Paris: Fayard. Haugen, E. (1972), The Ecology of Language. Stanford: Stanford University Press. Lamb, S. M. (2000), ‘Neuro-cognitive structure in the interplay of language and thought,’ in M. Pütz and M. H. Vespoor (eds.), Explorations in Linguistic Relativity. Amsterdam: Benjamins, pp. 173–196. Makkai, A. (1993), Ecolinguistics: ¿Toward a New **paradigm** for the Science of Language? London: Pinter Publishers. Martin, J. (2004), ‘Positive discourse analysis: Power, solidarity, and change’, Revista canaria de estudios ingleses, 49: 179–200. Mufwene, S. (2001), The Ecology of Language Evolution. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Naess, A. (1989), Ecology, Community and Lifestyle. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Sapir, E. (1912), ‘Language and environment’, American Anthropologist, 14: 226–242. Strohner, H. (1996), ‘Die neue Systemlinguistik: Zu einer ökosystemischen Sprachwissenschaft,’ in A. Fill (ed.), Sprachökologie und Ökolinguistik. Tübingen: Stauffenburg, pp. 49–58. Trampe, W. (1990), Ökologische Linguistik: Grundlagen einer ökologischen Wissenschafts- und Sprachtheorie. Opladen: Westdeutscher Verlag.
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Part II
The Role of Language Concerning the Environment (Biological and Ecological Sense) II. A. The Role of Language in Creating, Aggravating and Solving Environmental Problems
11 Positive Discourse Analysis Rethinking Human Ecological Relationships Arran Stibbe
Introduction If discourse analysts are serious about wanting to use their work to enact social change, then they will have to broaden their coverage to include . . . discourse that inspires, encourages, heartens; discourse we like, that cheers us along. (Martin, 1999: 51–52)
Ecolinguistics has tended to focus on negative critique, exposing the dominant discourses that our unsustainable industrial civilization is based on and showing how they promote ecologically destructive behavior. Examples include consumerist discourses which encourage unnecessary consumption, economic discourses which represent the main goal of society as unending economic growth, the deceptive discourses of greenwash, or agricultural discourses which treat the natural world mechanistically as a resource to be exploited. Although exposing dominant negative discourses is essential, it is just the first step. There is little point exposing the problems with current ways of using language unless there are beneficial alternative forms of language available to move towards. The next step is to search for new discourses to base society on; for example, discourses which promote being more rather than having more, well-being rather than growth and respecting rather than conquering nature. There have, however, been far fewer studies which have examined positive discourses, that is, discourses we like, which inspire, encourage and hearten us. This chapter will consider some of the theoretical and practical issues in conducting what Martin (1999, 2004) calls Positive Discourse Analysis within ecolinguistics. The question is: What role can ecolinguistics play in the search for positive new discourses to live by that work better in the conditions of the world we face than the dominant discourses of an unsustainable civilization?
Historical Perspectives From early on, ecolinguistics has tended to focus on the negative impacts of language in encouraging ecologically destructive behavior. The first work which is credited with 165
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serious consideration of the role of linguistics in addressing ecological issues was Halliday’s 1990 speech to AILA (reprinted in Halliday, 2001). In this speech Halliday claimed that “there is a syndrome of grammatical features which conspire . . . to construe reality in a certain way; and it is a way that is no longer good for our health as a species” (2001: 193). An example he gives is of the Senser participant (a being who is feeling or thinking something), which tends to be limited in grammar to humans and a few selected animals. He states that “The grammar makes it hard for us to accept the planet Earth as a living entity” (2001: 195). Halliday’s focus on ‘the grammar’ of our native language constraining how we see the world draws heavily from Sapir and Whorf’s hypothesis of linguistic relativity, that “Human beings do not live in the objective world alone . . . but are very much at the mercy of the particular language which has become the medium of expression for their society” (Sapir, 1949: 162). The Whorfian approach to ecolinguistics was explored further by Goatly (1996) and Chawla (2001). These authors argue that various features of grammar in English such as the separation of agents and affected participants, or the perception of time in terms of past, present and future, are barriers to the holistic worldview necessary to deal with ecological issues. The separation of agents and affected participants, for example, tells a story that the doer of an action is not affected by the action. This, for example, makes it seem as if a purchaser of ecologically damaging products (X purchases Y) is not affected by the pollution, climate change or biodiversity loss they are contributing to through their action. Goatly concludes that ‘ordinary language, especially the transitive clause, is inadequate to the representation of the world demanded by modern scientific theory, especially ecological theory’ (1996: 537). Mühlhäusler (2001: 31) similarly uses Sapir and Whorf’s concept of SAE (Standard Average European) to claim that “all is not well with English, or indeed SAE languages in general. Thus language for talking about environmental issues . . . appears to be deficient.” Mühlhäusler is concerned that if the majority of speakers of SAE languages cannot properly handle the difference between arithmetic and exponential growth and if slowly changing entities are grouped with non-changing ones [then] the very factors on which all life on earth depends will remain “non-issues.” (2001: 41) Along with the Whorfian approach came the idea that only a deep change in the inner layers of grammar could bring an ecological worldview into being. Without that deep shift, attempts to talk about the environment are just ‘surface ecologization’ of discourse, that is, “the process of superficial greening which we have seen taking place in genres such as advertising, political speeches and commercial articles over the last 30 years” (Fill, 2001: 69). An example of surface ecologization that Fill gives is of “linguistic strategies used to make products appear greener—products, in most cases, which are not particularly environmentally friendly in themselves” (2001: 70). This leads to a somewhat suspicious approach to language about the environment, with a focus on greenwash, the empty environmental spin of corporations and politicians, and the inadequacies of the language of environmentalism (e.g. Harré et al., 1999; Alexander, 2009). The suspicion of environmental language is summed up in the title of Harré et al.’s (1999) book, Greenspeak, which echoes the sinister Orwellian idea of ‘Newspeak.’ 166
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This approach is negative because it describes how the grammar of English is preventing us from viewing the world ecologically and treating it with care, as well as being limited in its ability to lead to action. It is not possible to change the inner levels of the grammar of a language through an act of will. For example, it would be impossible to change English so that it no longer separates out the subjects and objects of sentences. Halliday (2001: 196) concedes that “I do not think . . . language professionals . . . can plan the inner layers of grammar; there is an inherent antipathy between grammar and design.” Whorfian analysis does have a positive side, however, in that it praises the grammar of other (non SAE) languages for expressing a more ecological worldview. Mühlhäusler (2001), for instance, turns to the language Aiwo in search of more useful semantic distinctions, and gives the example of the nominal classifier nu which “signals nouns which are dependent on something else for their existence.” If humans, other animals, plants and the physical environment were all classified as ‘nu,’ then this would tell the story that all life is interdependent, and perhaps encourage protection of the larger systems that support life. However, because the distinctions are part of the deep grammatical system of Aiwo, they cannot be simply transferred to English—we could not start talking about a ‘nu-environment,’ populated by ‘nu-people’ and ‘nu-animals’ who are all interdependent. Mühlhäusler concludes that “I do not wish to claim that such distinctions should be introduced into English . . . by acts of planning” (2001: 37). Although the Whorfian approach does have a positive angle, it is hard to put it into practice in building a more sustainable society if analysis remains at the level of the built-in and hard-to-change grammar of the language. Another positive angle that ecolinguistics has taken is to search for ‘correct’ lexical items. For instance, Kemmerer (2006) notes that the word ‘animal’ in expressions like ‘the way people treat animals’ is misleading because it tells a story that humans are not animals. From an ecological perspective the exclusion of humans from the noun ‘animal’ is undesirable because it draws attention away from the fact that, like all other animals, humans depend on a physical environment for our survival. Kemmerer therefore proposes the new term ‘anymal’ which refers to “all animals, unique and diverse, marvellous and complex, who do not happen to be homo sapiens.” The word anymal, Kemmerer (2006: 11) claims, is both “biologically and socially correct.” Schultz (2001: 111) also takes a correctness approach, arguing that instead of the expression ‘clearing’ applied to forests, “we should use a more accurate expression such as ‘native vegetation removal.’ ” Likewise, it is “incorrect to use the word [‘harvest’] in relation to old growth (primary) forest,” because it conveys “the idea that logging is the taking of the annual production of a ‘crop,’ even when the crop is hundreds of years old.” The most comprehensive attempt to change the lexicon on the basis of correctness is that of Dunayer (2001), who provides a glossary of terms with preferred alternatives, for example ‘freeliving nonhumans’ should be used instead of ‘wildlife’ to emphasize the individuality of the animals, and the more accurate terms ‘food industry captive’ and ‘cow enslaver’ should be used instead of ‘farm animal’ and ‘dairy farmer,’ respectively (cf. 2001: 193–198). However, an otherwise positive review of Dunayer’s work by Blackwell (2002: 589) stated that “Dunayer’s [. . .] language at times so closely resembles that of a parody that I often found it hard to take her seriously.” The correctness approach at least presents a positive alternative to problematic forms of language, but is sometimes seen as arrogant in its insistence that people who use ordinary words like animal or farm are incorrect, and its prescriptivism in providing correct alternatives like anymal or enslavement facility. Expressions such as the ‘politically correct brain police’ are a common, if unfair, way of dismissing attempts such as these (West, 2015). 167
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Fortunately, it is not necessary to invent artificial new expressions to create positive ways of speaking and writing about the world that inspire people to protect the ecosystems that support life. Neither is it necessary to impose new forms of grammar on the English language. There have been speakers and writers who have managed to take up the English language, with all its imperfections, and put ordinary words together using standard grammar to inspire and make a real difference in the world. Rachel Carson, for instance, is credited with playing a foundational role in the start of the environmental movement through her vivid and lyrical descriptions of the effects of agricultural chemicals on ecosystems (2000). Carson and other similar lyrical science writers such as Aldo Leopold and Loren Eiseley form part of a school of writers that Macfarlane (2013: 167) calls imaginative naturalism. The language of imaginative naturalism can be considered a positive discourse, in that it contains clusters of linguistic features which come together to portray the world in ways which encourage respect and care for nature. These clusters of features draw from the standard grammar and lexicon, but arrange the words and grammatical features in ways that tell a different story about the world. One of the first attempts to conduct detailed ecolinguistic investigation of positive discourses is Goatly’s (2000) study, which compared the linguistic features of William Wordsworth’s The Prelude with an edition of The Times newspaper. Goatly’s focus was on how prominently elements of nature appear in the two sources, and the degree of power the linguistic features of the discourses attribute to nature. He found that the grammar used by Wordsworth gave much more agency to nature than that found in The Times. For example, Wordsworth represents nature as the Actor participant of clauses (The eagle soars; the rain beat hard), the Sayer participant (a river murmuring; wild brooks prattling) or the Experience participant (see that pair, the lamb and the lamb’s mother). In this way, Wordsworth is representing nature as an active force to be respected, or as something to be carefully observed with the senses. Goatly (2000: 301) states that: the view of the natural world represented by Wordsworth, along with aspects of his grammar, provides a much better model for our survival than that represented by the Times . . . to survive we had better take note of Wordsworth . . . rethink and respeak our participation in nature before it rethinks or rejects our participation in it. At around the same time that Goatly was conducting his analysis of Wordsworth, James Martin was developing the concept of Positive Discourse Analysis (PDA). In 1999, Martin analyzed Nelson Mandela’s autobiography, which he considered “Inspirational—with no tinge of bitterness or betrayal; rather a message of hope and wisdom—grace personified” (Martin, 1999: 29). He described his approach to analyzing the text as exemplifying “a positive style of discourse analysis that focuses on hope and change, by way of complementing the deconstructive exposé associated with critical discourse analysis” (Martin, 1999: 29). The important word in this description is ‘complementing’; PDA was never intended as a replacement for Critical Discourse Analysis (CDA), but rather as encouragement to extend the focus of CDA beyond texts which are implicated in oppression, exploitation and the abusive power relationships. As Martin later wrote, [W]e need to move beyond a singular focus on semiosis in the service of abusive power—and reconsider power communally as well, as it circulates through communities, as they re-align around values, and renovate discourses that enact a better world. (Martin, 2004: 197) 168
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The framework of PDA was further developed by Macgilchrist (2007) who explored voices in news media that offer radically different perspectives on the world from standard news frames. His focus was on representations of the Russian-Chechen conflict, and how occasional voices in the news challenge the one-sided mainstream frame which represents Russia as a villain and Chechens as victims: Occasionally, however, news articles are published which manage to contest the main, central, predominant frames for reporting the news. Here PDA sees a positive development that could yield fruitful insights for those wishing to counter what they see as questionable dominant messages. (2007: 74) In this way, PDA provides a way of searching for positive uses of language that can provide alternatives to what the analyst perceives as negative or damaging dominant discourses. Bartlett (2012) developed the framework of Positive Discourse Analysis further in his detailed study of how Amerindian communities of Guyana reclaim their heritage through resisting the mainstream development discourses which construct them as backward communities. Although Goatly did not use the expression Positive Discourse Analysis (PDA) for his analysis of Wordsworth, it bears the hallmarks of PDA in that it deliberately chose the text as a likely source for positive representations of nature and focused on the features of the text which the analyst felt were helpful in dealing with the ecological crisis. Later on, in 2003, Richard Alexander wrote what can be considered a Positive Discourse Analysis of a lecture by the notable scientist and environmental campaigner Vandana Shiva (Alexander, 2003). Alexander’s account is clearly framed in a positive way, speaking of Shiva’s ‘achievement’ in delivering “a sustained, committed and very eloquent analysis of what the impact of globalization means for the poor peasants and especially the women of India” (2003: 8). He analyzes the language Shiva uses in detail, showing how she resists dominant discourses of globalization and neoliberalism and presents a worldview that values sharing, saving seeds, sustainability, the poor, peasants, the contribution of women, small farms, the local and the natural. Alexander described how Shiva’s language is particularly effective because she deconstructs the language of Monsanto and global corporations and provides an alternative. An example of this alternative form of language is: A global monoculture is being forced on people by defining everything that is fresh, local and handmade as a health hazard. (Shiva in Alexander, 2003: 10) In this quote, Shiva is representing local and handmade as positive by combining them with the unmarked (positive) term fresh using an additive conjunction, in contrast to the negative way that global corporations portray them. Goatly and Alexander are only analyzing one particular text—a poem by William Wordsworth and a speech by Vandana Shiva, respectively. However, these two texts do not stand in isolation and are part of larger discourses, of romantic poetry in the first case and antiglobalization activist discourse in the second. Although the specific nuances and contexts of individual texts are important, PDA can also investigate patterns of language use which run across multiple texts written by a particular group of writers/poets. An example of this kind of analysis is the analysis of Japanese haiku in Stibbe (2012). The analysis searches for widespread patterns of linguistic features that run across the haiku of multiple authors. 169
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This study of Haiku is an example of Positive Discourse Analysis since it is orientated towards finding patterns of language use that present alternatives to dominant ways of representing animals in mainstream discourses (e.g. as machines, objects, resources, possessions or passive victims). Among the positive features found in the discourse of haiku are the following: In general, clause structure in haiku represents animals and plants as beings who are actively involved in leading their own lives in ways consistent with their nature, whether that is flying, slithering, or blooming. They represent animals in particular as beings with mental lives, who know, feel, and have desires. Both animals and plants are offered the recognition of being living beings directly addressable by humans, and in the rare cases where plants/animals are represented as the objects of human interference, there is a degree of sympathy implied. (Stibbe, 2012: 153) The purpose of analyzing positive discourses such as those of romantic poetry, anti- globalization activism or haiku is to discover ways of using language that can potentially encourage people to care about and protect the ecosystems that life depends on. There are, however, many other topics and discourses for ecolinguistic PDA to explore, as the next section describes.
Critical Issues and Topics Positive Discourse Analysis could be described as ‘the search for new stories to live by,’ because, as Ben Okri (1996: 21) puts it, “Stories are the secret reservoir of values: change the stories that individuals or nations live by and you change the individuals and nations themselves.” There is growing recognition that the underlying stories of the current industrial civilization are leading towards a future of increasing injustice and ecological destruction. Robertson (2014: 54) warns of the dangers of the story of economic growth as the primary goal of society, stating that “Growth as the core economic paradigm has been developing for several hundred years and has become solidly entrenched since the last century.” Mary Midgley (2011) describes how the ‘myths we live by’ are leading to ecological destruction, including the myths of progress, individuality, omnipotent science, commercial freedom, life as a competition and nature as a machine. The most dangerous story of all is, according to Paul Kingsnorth and Dougald Hine (2009), “the story of human centrality, of a species destined to be lord of all it surveys, unconfined by the limits that apply to other, lesser creatures.” Positive Discourse Analysis is a search for new ways of using language that tell very different stories from those of the current industrial civilization—stories that can encourage us to protect the ecosystems that life depends on and build more socially just societies. New stories are needed to provide alternatives to current stories of consumerism, technological progress, economic growth, the mastery of nature and other dominant ways of conceiving the world that contribute to ecological destruction. A place to start the search for positive economic discourses is with the discourse of New Economics. This discourse manifests itself in reports from the New Economics Foundation such as People Powered Money (NEF, 2015a), in Kalle Lasn’s book Meme Wars: The Creative Destruction of Neoclassical Economics (Lasn, 2012), Tim Jackson’s Prosperity Without Growth (Jackson, 2011), and Bhutan’s Gross National Happiness project (Muller and Wangchuk, 2008). New Economics uses language creatively to attach negative associations 170
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to economic growth. The New Economics Foundation uses the term ‘uneconomic growth’ (originally coined by Herman Daly) to express how “beyond a certain limit growth becomes uneconomic; in other words, its costs outweigh its benefits” (NEF, 2015b: 6). It also collocates ‘growth’ with terms that have negative associations such as ‘threatened’ and ‘doctrine’ in the following examples: This desired state of commercial diversity is threatened by the mainstream growth model of the retail sector. (p. 49) [M]ove away from the doctrine of endless economic growth and incentivise more sustainable behaviour. (p. 63) These examples do not just represent growth negatively, they also provide positive terms as alternatives: sustainable is positive, because it is the unmarked term of the pair sustainable/ unsustainable, and diversity is positive because it is collocated with ‘desired.’ In this way, the discourse of New Economics sets up alternative goals for monetary policy such as happiness, wellbeing, sustainability and diversity, which go beyond simple ‘growth.’ Another example is the following, where societal ‘success’ is redefined in terms of ‘sustainable wellbeing’ and expressed with high modality (certainty): [A] successful society is one where economic activity delivers high levels of sustainable wellbeing for its citizens. (p. 63) The goal of Positive Discourse Analysis in analyzing texts such as those of New Economics is not to promote the specific texts, but instead to assemble clusters of linguistic features that can be useful in conveying new and beneficial stories. Terms such as ‘uneconomic growth’ or patterns of presupposition, redefinition and metaphor can potentially be carried over to other mainstream discourses. News reporting, for instance, often unconsciously perpetuates the story of economic growth as being the goal of society by reporting any increase in growth as ‘good news.’ It would be possible, however, for broadcasters to work with ecolinguists to expose the underlying stories behind the news, and convey more ecologically beneficial underlying messages through using new terminology and grammatical features. Another key topic for Positive Discourse Analysis concerns the discursive construction of the natural world. There is a need for alternatives to dominant discourses which represent nature mechanistically as inert matter that exists solely to be exploited by humans. Bringhurst (2008: 26) turns to Native American discourses in a search for beneficial representations of the natural world, writing: If we do want to learn how to live in the world, I think the study of Native American literature is one of the best and most efficient ways to do just that . . . the fundamental subject of this thought, this intellectual tradition, is the relationship between human beings and the rest of the world. In addition to the kind of Native American literature that Bringhurst analyzes, there are a large number of what can be called ‘Native American sayings’ that are frequently quoted 171
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in environmental or ecological works. The origin of these sayings is sometimes the written English of Native American chiefs such as Luther Standing Bear who were raised in the oral traditions of their culture and educated in English. Sometimes the origins are more indirect, however. For example, Chief Seattle’s famous speech came from the recollection of the words of an interpreter which were heard a significant time before it was written down (Furtwangler, 1997). The English sayings cannot therefore be considered a direct representation of Indigenous beliefs. However, what could be called the ‘discourse of Native American sayings’ does provide a range of metaphors, pronoun use, vocabulary uses and other linguistic features that could potentially be useful in providing alternatives to mechanistic ways of talking about nature (Stibbe, forthcoming). The discourse of Native American sayings sets up an ideological square (Van Dijk, 2006: 374) that represents dominant Western ideologies of nature negatively as the opinion of an outgroup (‘them’) and Indigenous worldviews more positively as the ideas the ingroup (‘us’). The following is an example: We did not think of the great open plains, the beautiful rolling hills, and winding streams with tangled growth, as “wild.” Only to the white man was nature a “wilderness” and only to him was the land “infested” with “wild” animals and “savage” people. To us it was tame. Earth was bountiful and we were surrounded with the blessings of the Great Mystery. Not until the hairy man from the east came and with brutal frenzy heaped injustices upon us and the families we loved was it “wild” for us. When the very animals of the forest began fleeing from his approach, then it was that for us the “Wild West” began. Luther Standing Bear. (Sayre, 2014: 82) On one side are the pronouns ‘we,’ and ‘us,’ which are associated with the positive adjectives ‘beautiful,’ ‘tame,’ and ‘bountiful,’ while on the other side the pronoun is ‘him’ (the white/hairy man), which is associated with the adjectives ‘wild,’ ‘savage,’ and ‘brutal.’ The word ‘wild’ is not intrinsically negative, but is given negativity through being collocated with other terms that are intrinsically negative such as ‘savage’ and ‘infested.’ In this way, the worldview of ‘the white man,’ and by implication current industrial civilization, is given negativity in contrast to the positivity of Indigenous worldviews. Abram (1996: 68) describes how Indigenous oral cultures pass on local environmental knowledge through the generations, the kind of knowledge which allows people to meet their needs without destroying the ecosystems they are part of: The linguistic patterns of an oral culture remain uniquely responsive, and responsible, to the more-than-human life-world, or bioregion, in which that culture is embedded. This is in contrast with the estrangement from nature in industrial societies, which makes us “so oblivious to the presence of other animals and the Earth that our current lifestyles and activities contribute daily to the destruction of whole ecosystems” (1996: 137). Indigenous oral cultures from around the world are therefore a useful potential source of beneficial discourses for Positive Discourse Analysis. In the past, Indigenous understandings tended to be analyzed within anthropology as false or misguided beliefs (Harvey, 2005: 3), but more recent work in anthropology takes Indigenous understandings seriously. For example, Harvey describes how animistic beliefs found in Indigenous cultures around the world consist of: 172
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theories, discourses, and practices of relationship, of living well, of realising more fully what it means to be a person, and a human person, in the company of other persons, not all of whom are human but all of whom are worthy of respect. (p. xvii) For an ecolinguist, what matters is not the truth or falsity of Indigenous worldviews, but the distinctive linguistic patterns that they use to, for example, ascribe personhood to animals, plants, forests and rivers, thereby encouraging respectful and mutual relationships with them. Only some of the patterns of language used in Indigenous discourses will be translatable into equivalents in the languages of industrial civilizations, but those which are have the potential to provide new and positive stories to live by. In addition to oral texts which are carried down through the generations, there are also literary texts which can be potentially useful sources of beneficial discourses. There are numerous schools of writers and poets which use language in characteristic ways to express the intrinsic value the natural world. To give just a few examples, there is the Romantic poetry of William Wordsworth or John Clare, the imaginative naturalist writings of Rachel Carson or Aldo Leopold, the ‘new nature writing’ of Richard Mabey or Kathleen Jamie, the contemporary ecopoetry of Helen Moore or Susan Richardson and traditional literary schools such as the Shan-Shui writers of China or classical haiku poets in Japan. Robert Macfarlane (2013), in his article “New Words on the Wild,” expresses some skepticism about the ability of literature to ‘save the Earth.’ However, he concludes more positively, stating that: For literature possesses certain special abilities, very different to those of science. It can convey us into the minds of other people, and even—speculatively—the minds of other species. It can help us to imagine alternative futures and counter-factual pasts. It is content with partial knowledge in ways that science is not. Crucially it can, in author and environmentalist Bill McKibben’s phrase, make us feel things “in the gut”—fear, loss and damage, certainly, but also hope, beauty and wonder. And these last are, I think, the most important emotions in terms of our environmental future: our behaviour is more likely to be changed by promise than by menace. We will not save what we do not love. (2013: 167) One of the reasons that Macfarlane is skeptical of the ability of nature writing to save the Earth is that it is only likely to be read by the converted, i.e., those who already care about the natural world. Indeed, although nature writing does contain patterns of language that can inspire respect for the natural world, if it is going to make a difference then these patterns of language will have to spread far beyond nature writing and become infused in mainstream texts, from news journalism and environmental reports to biology textbooks. The promise of ecolinguistics is that it can identify the linguistic patterns from positive discourses that inspire respect and care for the natural world, and make them available to those in the mainstream who want to adjust their language to better address ecological issues. Another place to search for positive discourses is within alternative movements within industrial countries such as permaculture, biodynamic agriculture, slow food, transition towns, pagan groups and campaigning groups such as Earth First. The Slow Food movement, for instance, has a distinct discourse that emphasizes the connection between food and ecological preservation. In its own alliterative terms, it offers “a comprehensive approach to food that recognizes the strong connections between plate, planet, people, politics and 173
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culture” (SF, 2015). The linkage between ‘plate’ and ‘planet’ is made through terms which contain both aspects such as ‘eco-gastronomy’ (p. 5), ‘food biodiversity’ (p. 10) or expressions such as “we can change the world one meal at a time.” The Slow Food movement rearranges the mainstream frame which sees producers as active and consumers as passive. Instead, the discourses reframes consumers as ‘co- producers’ in expressions like ‘Eating is an agricultural act’ and ‘Informed, selective consumers become co-producers by demanding food that is good, clean and fair’ (SF, 2015: 6). The speech act ‘demanding’ places the consumers in a powerful position of being able to influence production. The language used by the movement is inclusive, with the pronoun ‘we’ being used to include the reader within the movement, e.g. ‘We can feed the world, and we can feed it better, by working with nature,’ and the terms ‘community,’ ‘together,’ ‘each of us,’ ‘everyone.’ In this way the discourse actively involves the reader in a community that takes on a new relationship with food and the Earth. This section has only mentioned a few topics and a few possible places to search for positive discourses that can provide new ways of thinking and talking about those topics, but there are very many more. Whatever the topic, however, ecolinguistic Positive Discourse Analysis needs a clear methodology to be a valid exercise, and this is discussed in the next section.
Research Methods Positive Discourse Analysis is based on a similar methodology to Critical Discourse Analysis (CDA), involving detailed examination of texts to reveal hidden ideologies that are subtly conveyed by the use of particular linguistic features. Martin (2004) illustrates this with the topic of the oppression of the Indigenous population of Australia. He first uses CDA to reveal the negative ideologies contained in a statement by the then prime minster, John Howard, on the issue of forced separation of aboriginal children from their parents. Martin shows how Howard uses grammatical features to disguise the agent of the oppression, e.g., referring to the removal of children as “actions that were sanctioned by the laws of the time, and that were believed to be in the best interests of the children concerned.” This deletes the government as the agent through the nominalization of ‘the actions’ (rather than ‘the government acted’), and the passive ‘were believed to’ (rather than ‘the government believed that’). In this way, Howard subtly conveys an ideology that the government was not guilty of crimes against the aboriginal people. However, Martin argues that negative criticism like this is not enough, that “deconstructive and constructive activity are both required” (2004: 183). He therefore analyses a government report Bringing Them Home, which is written in a very different, and more positive, style. The report privileges aboriginal voices by placing them in first position in chapters and includes first person testimony of those who were oppressed. This encodes the opposite ideology to Howard, that is, that the government was guilty of terrible crimes. For Martin this is a positive discourse, and he credits it for a swing in public opinion towards reconciliation. Positive Discourse Analysis as a methodology, however, has been criticized. Wodak and Chilton (2005: xvi) write that: “adopting a ‘positive’ stance towards public discourse may slip over into complicity in injustice or oppression.” Similarly, Flowerdew (2008: 204) writes that “One danger of [PDA], however, would be that of the enterprise turning into a form of propaganda on behalf of the status quo.” It is essential, therefore that Positive Discourse Analysis remains critical, i.e., it praises discourses as positive only after systematic 174
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analysis using a framework that involves clear criteria for what ‘positive’ actually means in practice. In studies of racism, analysts rarely mention the values framework they are using to judge discourses against, since it is treated as self-evident that racism is negative and needs to be eliminated. In ecolinguistics, however, the situation is more complex, because it is not just a situation of one human group oppressing another group, but multiple human groups interacting with each other in ways that are undermining the biological and environmental systems that support life. There are therefore a range of possible goals that an analyst could be pursuing. For example, is the goal to help sustain industrial civilization by making it more efficient, or to help replace industrial civilization by new ecological ways of life? Is the goal to reduce consumption by the rich while the poor increase their consumption, or for everyone to reduce consumption? Is the goal human well-being or the well-being of all species? Is the goal a reduction in population or more efficient technology to meet the needs of the growing population? Is the goal economic contraction, or economic growth which has been de-coupled from ecological damage? The key question, then, for ecolinguistics is ‘what makes a discourse positive’? The answer to that question will, inevitably, depend on the ecological philosophy (ecosophy) of the analyst. Ecosophy is a term introduced by Arne Naess (Naess, 1995: 8) to mean “a philosophy of ecological harmony . . . openly normative it contains norms, rules, postulates, value priority announcements and hypotheses concerning the state of affairs.” Value priority announcements are not evidence-based but are the values that the analyst holds, such as whether nonhuman life holds any value in its own sake or whether animals and plants only matter if they are useful for humans. However, other aspects of ecosophies do depend on evidence; for example, evidence of the extent to which industrial civilization would need to change to bring carbon dioxide levels down to a level which can mitigate climate change. Once analysts have determined their own ecosophies, they can use them to provide criteria for judging whether discourses are positive or not. There are various philosophical frameworks that can be drawn on for an ecosophy, including ‘cornucopianism’ (e.g., Lomborg, 2001), ‘sustainable development’ (e.g., Baker, 2006), social ecology (e.g., Bookchin, 1994, 2005), ecofeminism (e.g., Adams and Gruen, 2014), Deep Ecology (e.g., Drengson and Inoue, 1995) and Deep Green Resistance (McBay et al., 2011). These range from positions which see continuing technological progress as the solution to environmental problems (cornucopianism), to radical positions which demand an end to industrial civilization (Deep Green Resistance). Once the analyst has determined what their ecosophy is, the methodology first involves close analysis of discourses to reveal the hidden ideologies within them. Then these ideologies are compared to the ecosophy. If the ideologies align with, promote or resonate with the ecosophy then the discourses are considered positive. As an example, a Deep Ecology ecosophy would see animals and plants as having intrinsic value, and recognizing this intrinsic value as an important step to protecting the natural world and building a more sustainable society. A PDA analysis could analyses the discourse of animal ethics organizations such as People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals (PETA) and the Humane Society, using a Deep Ecology ecosophy to judge the discourse analyst. For example, the PETA website states: Orcas are intelligent animals who work cooperatively, have sophisticated social structures, communicate using distinct dialects and swim up to 100 miles every day. (Dan, 2015) 175
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This uses the relative pronoun ‘who,’ which is typically used for people, to describe orcas, instead of the objectifying pronoun ‘which.’ It places orcas as the agent of the material processes of work, and swim, representing them as actively engaged in the world around them. It also places orcas as the Sayer in the verbal process of ‘communicate,’ with the noun ‘dialect’ representing their communication as similar to language. By emphasizing intelligence, willful action, communicative ability, and by using the pronoun ‘who,’ the discourse increases the personhood of the orcas. According to a Deep Ecology ecosophy this could therefore be considered a positive discourse since it ascribes intrinsic value to species beyond the human. Aside from the focus on the positive, there is a difference in the kind of texts that Critical Discourse Analysis and Positive Discourse Analysis focus on. Critical Discourse Analysis is interested in resisting the dominant mainstream discourses which structure an unjust and unsustainable society. The focus is therefore not so much on individual texts but on typical patterns of language which are present across large numbers of texts, because these larger patterns form the dominant discourses of society. A CDA analysis might, for example, focus on the discourse of neoclassical economics, examining pervasive patterns of linguistic features across numerous texts which contribute to ecologically destructive behavior. On the other hand, a PDA analysis will be searching for positive discourses outside of the mainstream which are not pervasive yet, but which could offer something valuable if they were promoted to become more pervasive. PDA can therefore focus on more detailed analysis of smaller numbers of texts to reveal positive features, without the need to establish how widespread these features are at present. Overall, a methodology for ecolinguistic PDA consists of analyzing the linguistic features of a text (or a collection of texts if looking for larger patterns), to reveal the ideologies embedded in the text. These ideologies are then compared to the analyst’s personal ecosophy, and the discourse is judged positive if the stories are consistent with the principles of the ecosophy. The next step is promoting the discourse, for example promoting clusters of linguistic features used in the discourse of animal ethics organizations as useful ways of conveying positive new stories about relations between humans and nature.
Conclusion A significant body of research now analyzes the negative discourses that underpin the current unjust and unsustainable industrial civilization. There are critiques of the discourses of consumerism, neoclassical economics, advertising, intensive agriculture and shallow environmentalism. These discourses have been accused of promoting excessive consumption and treating the natural world as a stock of resources for exploitation rather than an interconnected system that all life depends on for survival. The body of research has not, however, been matched by a body of research looking at positive discourses, discourses which can inspire people to find well-being in ways that do not require over-consumption and treat the natural world with respect and care. Although pointing out the unintended ecological destruction caused by negative discourses is essential, it is equally essential to be able to recommend new forms of language to move on from these discourses. This must be more than just pointing out politically correct alternatives for lexical items such as ‘enslavement unit’ for farm, and more than pointing out that other languages have positive linguistic features embedded deep in their grammar. Positive Discourse Analysis analyses discourses such as nature writing, Indigenous stories, new economics and humane organizations to discover clusters of linguistic features 176
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that come together to convey positive stories about the place of humans in the natural world. The ultimate aim is to promote these clusters of features so that they can become widespread alternatives to the dominant discourses of industrial civilization.
Further Reading Bartlett, T. (2012), Hybrid Voices and Collaborative Change: Contextualising Positive Discourse Analysis. London: Routledge. Bringhurst, R. (2008), The Tree of Meaning: Language, Mind, and Ecology. Berkeley, CA: Counterpoint. Stibbe, A. (2012), Animals Erased: Discourse, Ecology, and Reconnection With the Natural World. Middletown, CT: Wesleyan University Press. Stibbe, A. (2015), Ecolinguistics: Language, Ecology and the Stories We Live By. London: Routledge.
References Abram, D. (1996), The Spell of the Sensuous: Perception and Language in a More-Than-Human World. New York: Pantheon. Adams, C. and Gruen, L. (2014), Ecofeminism: Feminist Intersections With Other Animals and the Earth. London: Bloomsbury. Alexander, R. (2003), ‘Resisting imposed metaphors of value: Vandana Shiva’s role in supporting Third World agriculture’, The Online Journal Metaphorik.de, 4: 6–29. Alexander, R. (2009), Framing Discourse on the Environment: A Critical Discourse Approach. New York: Routledge. Baker, S. (2006), Sustainable Development. London: Routledge. Bartlett, T. (2012), Hybrid Voices and Collaborative Change: Contextualising Positive Discourse Analysis. London: Routledge. Blackwell, S. (2002), ‘Linguists and other animals’, Journal of Sociolinguistics, 6(4): 589–597. Bookchin, M. (1994), Which Way for the Ecology Movement? Oakland, CA: AK Press. Bookchin, M. (2005), The Ecology of Freedom: The Emergence and Dissolution of Hierarchy. Oakland, CA: AK Press. Bringhurst, R. (2008), The Tree of Meaning: Language, Mind, and Ecology. Berkeley, CA: Counterpoint. Carson, R. (2000), Silent Spring. London: Penguin [first published 1962]. Chawla, S. (2001), ‘Linguistic and philosophical roots of our environmental crisis’, in A. Fill and P. Mühlhäusler (eds.), The Ecolinguistics Reader: Language, Ecology, and Environment. London: Continuum, pp. 109–114. Dan (2015), ‘Photos from Loro Parque: This is what captivity does to Orcas’, PETA UK. Dijk, T. A. van (2006), ‘Discourse and manipulation’, Discourse and Society, 17(3): 359–383. Drengson, A. and Inoue, Y. (eds.) (1995), The Deep Ecology Movement: An Introductory Anthology. Berkeley: North Atlantic Books. Dunayer, J. (2001), Animal Equality: Language and Liberation. Derwood, MD: Ryce Pub. Fill, A. (2001), ‘Language and ecology: Ecolinguistic perspectives for 2000 and beyond’, AILA Review, 14: 60–75. Flowerdew, J. (2008), ‘Critical discourse analysis and strategies of resistance’, in V. Bhatia, J. Flowerdew and R. H. Jones (eds.), Advances in Discourse Studies. London: Routledge, pp. 195–210. Furtwangler, A. (1997), Answering Chief Seattle. Seattle: University of Washington Press. Goatly, A. (1996), ‘Green grammar and grammatical metaphor, or language and the myth of power, metaphors we die by’, Journal of Pragmatics, 25(4): 537–560. Goatly, A. (2000), Critical Reading and Writing: An Introductory Coursebook. London: Routledge. 177
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Halliday, M. (2001), ‘New ways of meaning: The challenge to applied linguistics’, in A. Fill and P. Mühlhäusler (eds.), The Ecolinguistics Reader: Language, Ecology, and Environment. London: Continuum, pp. 175–202. Harré, R., Brockmeier, J. and Mühlhäuser, P. (1999), Greenspeak: A Study of Environmental Discourse. London: Sage. Harvey, G. (2005), Animism: Respecting the Living World. London: C. Hurst & Co Publishers Ltd. Jackson, T. (2011), Prosperity Without Growth: Economics for a Finite Planet. London, Washington, DC: Earthscan. Kemmerer, L. (2006), ‘Verbal activism: “animal” ’, Society and Animals, 14(1): 9–14. Kingsnorth, P. and Hine, D. (2009), ‘The Dark Mountain Project manifesto’ [online]. http://darkmountain.net/about/manifesto/. Lasn, K. (2012), Meme Wars: The Creative Destruction of Neoclassical Economics. A Seven Stories Press 1st pbk. ed. New York: Seven Stories Press. Lomborg, B. (2001), The Skeptical Environmentalist: Measuring the Real State of the World. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. McBay, A., Keith, L. and Jensen, D. (2011), Deep Green Resistance: Strategy to Save the Planet. New York: Seven Stories Press. Macfarlane, R. (2013), ‘New words on the wild’, Nature, 498: 166–167. Macgilchrist, F. (2007), ‘Positive discourse analysis: Contesting dominant discourses by reframing the issues’, Critical Approaches to Discourse Analysis Across Disciplines, 1(1): 74–94. Martin, J. R. (1999), ‘Grace: The logogenesis of freedom’, Discourse Studies, 1(1): 29–56. Martin, J. R. (2004), ‘Positive discourse analysis: Solidarity and change’, Revista Canaria de Estudios Ingleses, 49: 179–200. Midgley, M. (2011), The Myths We Live By. New York: Routledge. Mühlhäusler, P. (2001), ‘Talking about environmental issues’, in A. Fill and P. Mühlhäusler (eds.), The Ecolinguistics Reader: Language, Ecology, and Environment. London: Continuum, pp. 31–42. Muller, A. and Wangchuk, T. (2008), Gross National Happiness. Thimphu: Pursue Balance, Jackson Wyoming. Naess, A. (1995), ‘The shallow and the long range, deep ecology movement’, in A. Drengson and Y. Inoue, (eds.) The Deep Ecology Movement: An Introductory Anthology. Berkeley: North Atlantic Books, pp. 3–10. NEF (2015a), People Powered Money: Designing, Developing and Delivering Community Currencies. London: New Economics Foundation. NEF (2015b), ‘Well-being and the Environment’ [online]. New Economics Foundation. www.newe conomics.org/publications/entry/well-being-and-the-environment [accessed September 20, 2015]. Okri, B. (1996), Birds of Heaven. London: Phoenix. Robertson, M. (2014), Sustainability Principles and Practice. London: Routledge. Sapir, E. (1949), Selected Writings in Language, Culture and Personality. Berkeley: University of California Press. Sayre, R. F. (2014), Thoreau and the American Indians. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press. Schultz, B. (2001), ‘Language and the natural environment’, in A. Fill and P. Mühlhäusler (eds.), The Ecolinguistics Reader: Language, Ecology, and Environment. London: Continuum, pp. 109–114. SF (2015), ‘The Slow Food Movement’ [online]. www.slowfood.org.uk/about/about/what-we-do/ Stibbe, A. (2012), Animals Erased: Discourse, Ecology, and Reconnection With the Natural World. Middletown, CT: Wesleyan University Press. Stibbe, A. (forthcoming), ‘Critical discourse analysis and ecology: The search for new stories to live by’, in J. Richardson and J. Flowerdew (eds.), The Routledge Handbook of Critical Discourse Analysis. London: Routledge. West, L. (2015, June 9), ‘What do the politically correct brain police have against venerable man comedians like Jerry Seinfeld?’, The Guardian. Wodak, R. and Chilton, P. A. (eds.) (2005), A New Agenda in (Critical) Discourse Analysis: Theory, Methodology, and Interdisciplinarity. Philadelphia: John Benjamins. 178
12 Using Visual Images to Show Environmental Problems Anders Hansen
Introduction/Definitions Much of what we as the public know or recognize as ‘the environment’ or as ‘environmental problems,’ we know or perceive through mainstream media and related mediated forms of communication, and much of this communication is increasingly visual in nature, i.e., composed of visual representations. Visual representation has been important in communicating and constructing the environment as a focus for public and political concern since the rise of the modern environmental movement in the 1960s. This was appreciated early on not least by environmental pressure groups, who realized the importance of visuals both as a way of ‘bearing witness’ to and documenting environmental destruction and as a way of exploiting news values to gain access to media, that were themselves becoming increasingly hungry for visual representations. It is, however, only in the current century that the visual communication of the environment has begun to attract the kind of research attention that it deserves. This is not peculiar to environmental communication research, but also applies to visual communication research more widely. Visual communication research has thus for some time been the neglected poorer relative of text focused communication research. This was noted by Graber (1990) even before the rise of digital media, when television was still the single most dominant visual medium, in her pioneering call for communication research to attend to the increasingly visual nature of, as it was then, mass communication. Although Graber’s call was not heeded sufficiently for quite some time, studies of visual communication have made very significant progress in the present century, not least in research on war and disaster reporting. It has taken rather longer (see Hansen and Machin, 2008, 2013) for the visual to become a significant focus in the emerging field of environmental communication, but there is good cause for optimism— perhaps even celebration—as the visual dimension of environmental communication has received increasing attention, theoretically and empirically, on its own as well as in conjunction with the wider semiotic aspects of communication. The most recent decade in particular has seen a welcome and much-needed growth in studies—from a range of disciplines—focusing on the visual. As with environmental communication research generally, much of this has centered on communication about climate 179
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change, but it is important to recognize that the significant advances that have been made go well beyond climate change communication. A promising sign of the rise and consolidation of visual environmental communication research is the increasing number of scholarly publications focusing on the visual in the mediation and communication of the environment and nature. A special double issue of the International Communication Gazette (2011) on “Communicating the Environment” comprised several articles focusing on visual communication; a special issue of Environmental Communication (2013) was devoted entirely to visual environmental communication—and subsequently published as the edited book Visual Environmental Communication (Hansen and Machin, 2015). Other book-length edited collections (Dobrin and Morey, 2009; Schneider and Nocke, 2014) and synthesizing reviews of the field (Hansen and Machin, 2013; O’Neill and Smith, 2014; Walsh, 2015) further signal the growth and consolidation of the field. In this chapter, I examine the importance of the visual in communicating about the environment and I survey the significant developments that characterize what can now broadly be described as ‘visual environmental communication research.’ Visual environmental communication research can be defined as research concerned with theorizing and empirically examining how visual imagery in the broadest sense (photographs, film, scientific/graphical representations using charts and graphs, maps, models, drawings, cartoons, paintings, artistic exhibits, installations or performances, etc.) communicates and conveys/constructs messages about the environment. My key vantage point is media and communication research, but it is worth noting from the outset that this is—like the field of ‘visual studies’—in itself a hugely multidisciplinary field, that draws from a range of disciplines, including linguistics, rhetoric, semiotics, sociology, social-psychology, historical studies, etc. From a media and communications research perspective, the principal interest in visual communication is to understand the contribution that visuals make to the wider social, political and cultural construction and understanding of ‘the environment.’ As argued elsewhere (Hansen and Machin, 2013), this analytically calls for a multimodal approach, which situates the fine-grained analysis of the semiotic, discursive, rhetorical, narrative etc. characteristics of visuals in relation to three major contexts (communicative, cultural and historical) and three main sites (production, content, consumption) of visual communication. This perspective combines core elements of semiotics (e.g., Barthes’, 1977, notion of denotation, connotation and myth/ideology), with key propositions of critical discourse analysis (e.g., examining how social identities, relations and systems of knowledge are discursively, visually and ideologically structured) while also adhering to classic communication theory’s three key foci on sources/production of communication, communication content and audiences/consumption/social implications of communication.
Studies of Visual Representations of the Environment Given the conspicuous and ‘loud’ nature of news media, it is perhaps not surprising that much of the recent rise in visual analysis has focused on visual representations of the environment in news coverage of prominent environmental issues such as climate change. But visual representations of the environment of course appear in a wide and diverse range of mediated forms, and one of the challenges for visual environmental research is thus to adopt a more encompassing approach that maps the continuities and dis-continuities in visual
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messages across different media and communication forms. In other words, to adopt an approach that recognizes that the symbolic environment as a whole—not just news, advertising, film or other individual forms of communication/mediation—informs public and political understanding of the environment. Research on the visual representation of the environment has thus focused, broadly speaking, on three different media forms: news and factual representation; advertising and promotional/persuasive communication (including communication campaigns); film, and entertainment/fictional media content. Disciplinary departures, analytical approaches and theoretical frameworks have likewise differed depending on the main forms of communication analyzed. Broadly speaking—and bearing in mind that there is also much overlap—studies of news and factual representations have focused on traditional communication research questions concerning the public/political ‘definitions’ of environmental issues/problems, ‘who’ (scientists, experts, politicians, celebrities, etc.) defines these, and how this in turn influences what (social, political, economic, etc.) kind of ‘solutions’ are offered. Studies of advertising and film, on the other hand, have tended to focus on how culturally and historically deepseated constructions or interpretations of nature or the natural environment are articulated, reinforced, changed and exploited, e.g., for the purpose of selling products or promoting particular ideas and views. In the following, I outline some of the key findings while also relating these, where appropriate, to the key contexts and sites of analysis for visual environmental communication research. I proceed to discuss some of the main methodological considerations and challenges for visual analysis, and then conclude with suggestions about future directions and emphases for the analysis of visual environmental communication.
Image Categories in Public Communication About the Environment Several studies—mainly of news, although also extending to other media genres—have identified three broad image categories in visual representation of the environment: images of nature/the environment (e.g., Figure 12.1); images of industry/technology (e.g., Figure 12.2); and images focused on people (with or—more often—without any visual focus on nature/the environment) (e.g., Figure 12.3). In visual terms, these categories are interesting because they—visually—‘work’ to signify the environment in very different ways, and thus potentially have very different implications for how such images affect public and political perceptions and action with regard to the environment. The former two types thus tend to be decontextualized and more open to interpretation or signification through the accompanying text, whereas the latter—people images—tend to be more specific, showing recognizable or identifiable people in recognizable contexts (political/scientific or other public forums) or ‘representative people.’
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Figure 12.1 Iceberg graveyard. Photograph: © Christopher Prentiss Michel, 2013. Reproduced in accordance with the Creative Commons Attribution License 2.0 (https://creativecommons. org/licenses/by/2.0/).
Figure 12.2 Power station, Hamburg Moorburg. Photograph: © Ajepbah, 2013. Reproduced in accordance with License CC-BY-SA-3.0 DE (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/ de/legalcode).
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Figure 12.3 Heads of delegations at the 2015 United Nations Climate Change Conference at Paris (COP21). Photograph, Presidencia de la República Mexicana. Reproduced in accordance with the Creative Commons Attribution License 2.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/ by/2.0/).
Images of Nature/the Environment and Industry/Technology: Decontextualization, Aestheticization and Symbolism Studies of a range of media forms have noted the decontextualized, aestheticized, symbolic and semiotically open nature of how the environment is visualized. In an early study of television news, Cottle (2000) thus demonstrated a visual emphasis drawing on romanticized views of nature and representing the environment as spectacle, landscape and ‘under threat’ through a standardized visual ‘lexicon.’ The indication from this and other studies (Szerszynski et al., 2000; Hansen and Machin, 2008) is that television and other media visualize the environment through the use of increasingly de-contextualized ‘global,’ ‘symbolic’ and ‘iconic’ images rather than those which are recognizable because of their geographic/historical or social/cultural anchoring. This type of imagery has implications not only for the way in which images are ‘made to mean,’ but significantly for the way in which they contribute to public and political understanding and concern about the environment. Global, distant and/or decontextualized images of environmental damage and suffering are more difficult to relate to and or act upon than those that depict concrete local environmental problems that we as publics can relate to. Likewise, Hansen and Machin (2008) in their analysis of commercial image archives supplying visuals to, for example, news organizations, argue that an ideological consequence of this form of de-contextualization is a visual dis-connect from concrete processes such as global capitalism and consumerism. ‘Environmental images’ do not acquire iconic or representative status by themselves. This requires visual signification ‘work’ in much the same way as environmental issues only become issues for public and political concern through the public claims-making activities of scientists, pressure groups, governments and others. Linder (2006), in an insightful
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analysis of public service environmental advertising and commercial advertising, tracks some of these important signification processes. He shows how global warming signs and visualization, originating in the scientific/regulatory/political discourses of environmental groups and governments, are appropriated, and sometimes inverted, by advertisers and end up in the service of the promotion of consumption. Linder identifies some of the key signification processes involved in the process of visualizing the environment, particularly the de-contextualization and aestheticization of landscapes or physical settings and the use of imagery which resonates with deeper cultural discourses or myths of unspoiled wilderness as national heritage, for example. Hansen and Machin (2008) looked at the way that commercial image suppliers such as Getty Images provide media with cheap and attractive images that have semiotic flexibility— and adaptability—afforded by de-contextualization and the absence of the recognizable identifiers that might otherwise be expected of the ‘documenting’ role of news photography. It is precisely this semiotic open-ness that makes the images ideal for a global media market and for hard-pressed news organizations, which have got neither the time nor the resources to deploy expensive camera crews to collect documentary-style, factual, real images to satisfy increasingly visual-focused media and a visually increasingly hungry audience. The often decontextualized, aestheticized and symbolic/iconic nature of environmental imagery then makes these types of images flexible and useable in a variety of communicative contexts, e.g., to be deployed for the purposes of selling products as ‘environmentally friendly’ or for promoting ideas, policies or corporate practices as ‘environmentally responsible’ or ‘sustainable.’ De-contextualized images are—precisely due to the absence of direct recognizable referencing—much more open to multiple significations and interpretation, and this in turn means that the communicative context, and very particularly the accompanying text, provides important clues to the ‘meaning’ of images. Several studies have thus rightly advocated the need to analyze news images in relation to the verbal messages, although findings and arguments relating to this vary somewhat. Smith and Joffe (2009) for example argue—in an analysis of British press coverage of climate change—that images provide a more focused and simplified reinforcement of the more complex and diverse textual representations. By contrast, DiFrancesco and Young (2011), analyzing the visual and textual construction of global warming in Canadian national newspapers, conclude that images and text are pointing in surprisingly different directions or that images are sufficiently generic to serve simply as signifiers of the general topic. In an earlier analysis of global warming documentaries, Mellor (2009) similarly notes the problematic relationship between talking heads statements and the extensive use of wallpaper shots—generalized, decontextualized images of the environment—that thus, dominated by the much more specific verbal narrative, come to mean, i.e., visualize, what is said. In an analysis of textual and visual news coverage of selected key climate change summits—the Conference of the Parties (COP)—Wozniak et al. (2015) show that although the textual discourse is dominated by political delegations and other traditional authority figures, the visual coverage is dominated by nongovernmental organizations (NGOs) and environmental pressure groups, who are adept at exploiting the needs of news organizations and journalists for newsworthy visuals. What these studies then clearly point to is the need to study visuals in relation to textual content and the wider context of their communication. These relationships have implications not only for what meanings are communicated and how they are communicated, but also, as the study by Wozniak et al. (2015) shows, for understanding the relative effectiveness of
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different stakeholders and sources seeking to influence the public communications agenda and public/political definitions of the environment.
Longitudinal/Historical Change in Visual Environmental Communication Historical context and a comparative historical perspective are important in visual analysis because they enable us to recognize how visual interpretations—often of the same type of images—change over time and are indeed historically constructed. Images of industrial complexes, factories, etc., which now appear in the context of communication about the environment and carry negative connotations, were at one point imbued with the positive connotations of development, progress and wealth creation. Images of the Amazon rainforest showing logging, clearing of land to make way for agriculture, etc., which may at one point have signified civilization and progress through the taming and exploitation of nature/ natural resources, now come to mean destruction of habitat, destruction of Indigenous peoples and cultures and destruction of fragile environments with wider potentially catastrophic (climate) implications. Although historical change in the visualization of the environment and nature has been eminently captured in studies of film (e.g. Mitman, 1999), advertising (e.g. Kroma and Flora, 2003; Howlett and Raglon, 1992; Ahern et al., 2013) and news magazine covers (Meisner and Takahashi, 2013), mainstream news studies have had surprisingly little to say about this. Even one of the most comprehensive studies of visual environmental news to date (Rebich-Hespanha et al., 2015), despite drawing from an extensive sample covering 1969–2009, offers no comparative analysis of how visualization changes over the 40-year period examined in the study. This is perhaps particularly surprising as there is an otherwise well-developed strand of longitudinal research in environmental communication research generally (Hansen, 2015), drawing variously from Downs’ (1972) theory of issue–attention cycles and on agenda-setting theory. In a longitudinal study which is exemplary both for its inclusion of a broad range of news and popular media images, and for its attention to cultural and historical change, Peeples (2013) examines the changing images associated with the toxicant Agent Orange (used extensively as a defoliant during the Vietnam War, with devastating long-term human and environmental consequences) over the extended period from 1979 to 2008. The historical sweep of her analysis enables her to demonstrate how the changing use of images is at once reflective of and plays into changes in wider “stories of national identity, of culture, of gender, of race, and, most significantly, of power” (Peeples, 2013: 205). From an ecolinguistics perspective, Kroma and Flora’s (2003) study of pesticide advertising in agricultural magazines from the 1940s to the 1990s is particularly instructive. They combine linguistic analysis with visual analysis to show how both the naming of pesticides and the accompanying images move through three major phases from a ‘science’ discourse (1940s–1960s) articulating the postwar faith in progress through science, through a ‘control’ of nature and the environment discourse (1970s–1980s), to a ‘nature-attuned’ discourse (1990s) reflecting new environmental sensibilities of sustainability and harmony with nature. They conclude that “changing images reflect how the agricultural industry strategically repositions itself to sustain market and corporate profit by co-opting dominant cultural themes at specific historical moments in media advertising” (Kroma and Flora, 2003: 21). Their analysis then shows that changing visual and verbal discourses are produced in
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response to perceived changes in the public/political climate of opinion, and in turn feed back into such changes. The study by Kroma and Flora echoes the macro shift in visual constructions of nature and the environment identified in studies of a range of media genres, namely from a romantic/romanticized, through a utilitarian/science-driven/resource-focused to a sustainability/ nature-attuned perspective. It is important to note that these kinds of changes are changes in relative prominence/dominance, and very much not a case of one perspective replacing another. All of these perspectives are available and deployed in visual constructions of the environment at any point in time, and indeed are sufficiently semiotically flexible to serve diverse and potentially opposite ideological/political purposes. Takach (2013: 226) demonstrates this particularly well in his analysis of ‘romantic/extractive gazes’ deployed in the government sponsored branding and marketing of the Canadian province of Alberta as a land of unlimited opportunity and natural beauty: [T]he link between the seemingly benign Romantic gaze (proffered by proponents of economic development and environmental protection alike for their respective purposes) and the extractive gaze (proffered more dramatically by ecocentric interests and more subtly by pro-development forces) may seem stronger than their apparent inconsistency might have suggested in less ecologically conscious times. A longitudinal and historical perspective is important for understanding the dynamic and essentially inter-textual nature of visual signification. The elevation of particular images to ‘iconic’ status as images representing a particular meaning, such as ‘climate change’ or ‘environmental devastation’ or ‘threatened environments’ is an on-going process drawing on, what Linder (2006: 129–130) aptly refers to as “an extensive collection of semiotic resources” and involving “a substantial amount of appropriation and pastiche between them, as they exploit newly established signs in novel variations.” Recent analyses of place branding and place marketing (Takach, 2013; Porter, 2013) provide particularly clear examples of how the ideological rebranding—largely achieved visually—of places and regions draws significance from both explicit and implicit positioning/juxtaposition in relation to earlier visual frames. Visually engaging with conventional, familiar, traditional and expected imagery by reframing such imagery in novel ways is also at the heart of what we might call environmental photo-activism (Schwarz, 2013; Cozen, 2013; Thomsen, 2015; see also Brönnimann, 2002, for an interesting historical analysis of how photography and other visualization has been used to ‘show’ climate change). But the significance of examining and placing visuals in a longitudinal and historical perspective is not merely about understanding how particular images emerge, become meaningful and achieve iconic/symbolic status. It also helps in appreciating the dynamic and evolving nature of the visual construction of the environment, which in turn makes it possible to relate these processes to wider political, cultural and social change. In summary, studies of visual environmental communication point to the way that visual representations of the environment and nature (as opposed to visualization focused on people—see the next section) tend to be decontextualized, aestheticized and symbolic in ways that enhance their flexible and versatile use across different genres of communication. Images draw from historically and culturally resonant discourses of nature (including the tension between romantic and extractive/utilitarian views of nature) and rework these to fit the needs of the communicators and the communicative context (e.g., advertising and the selling of products and ideas; or political communication and political persuasion). 186
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The decontextualized and generic nature of much visualization of the environment point to the way that the ‘meaning’ of visuals is influenced or dominated by their textual anchoring: they mean what the text or voice-over says that they mean.
People Imagery Several studies of visuals in news coverage of the environment (Smith and Joffe, 2009; Lester and Cottle, 2009; DiFrancesco and Young, 2011; O’Neill, 2013; Rebich-Hespanha et al., 2015) have shown a prominent emphasis on people. Although this is not surprising in itself, as much news coverage revolves around public and political arguments and the forums in which such arguments play out (formal political institutions, political meetings, conferences, etc.—e.g., Figure 12.3), studies have also noted the relative prominence of ordinary people (shown as victims of e.g. climate change—e.g., Figure 12.4) compared with the expected and often noted dominance of politicians, experts, scientists and other authority figures. An analysis of the relative prominence of different types of actors is an important first step; however, it is in the analysis of how different actors are visually constructed that visual analysis can really excel to show how different actors may be variously supported or undermined (Hall, 1981). Lester and Cottle (2009), in their comprehensive analysis of television news images of climate change, thus demonstrate how different key actors (politicians, scientists, environmental protesters, victims of climate change, etc.) are visually constructed in ways which associate very different degrees of authority, credibility and trust with these actors. Rebich-Hespanha et al. (2015: 512) likewise importantly note the very different framing of ordinary people compared with authority figures. Ordinary people are depicted as “suffering impacts of environmental conditions or engaging in efforts to mitigate or adapt,”
Figure 12.4 Stilt houses, coping with climate change. Photograph: © Developing Planning Unit of University College London. Reproduced in accordance with the Creative Commons Attribution License 2.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/). 187
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whereas authority figures are shown in active agency roles studying, reporting (scientists) or urging or opposing action (political figures and celebrities). As the authors conclude, this conveys very different visual messages about who are invested as authoritative “agents of definition” for environmental issues and, on the other hand, ordinary people whose voices are marginalized. In terms of the framing of people and arguments in public environmental controversy, visual analysis interestingly also points to a less pronounced ‘balancing’ of extreme arguments than that which has been shown to characterize much of the coverage of, for example, climate change in the 1990s and early parts of the present century. Scientists, politicians, experts, commentators who represent contrarian/skeptical views critical of the (emerging) scientific/political consensus on climate change receive little visual representation, and when they are represented visually, “accompanying text often suggested a critical viewpoint on the individual or group represented” (Rebich-Hespanha et al., 2015: 512). These findings then again further confirm two significant lessons for visual environmental analysis, as indicated earlier: 1) the need to analyze visual representations in relation to their textual and communicative context; and 2) the need not simply to enumerate the types of people categories shown, but to examine carefully how different types of people are visually given legitimacy and credibility, whereas others—and what they articulate or stand for—may be visually undermined or denied legitimacy or indeed ridiculed. Although the relative absence of visual representation of people representing extreme or contrarian views may be seen as an encouraging development away from the ‘balance as bias’ (Boykoff and Boykoff, 2004) trend noted in studies of news coverage of the early part of this century (although more recent research has shown a changing and considerably more nuanced picture—Philo and Happer, 2013), Rebich-Hespanha et al.’s (2015: 512f.) finding that relative invisibility also characterizes other key and powerful actors, who benefit from not being in the public limelight is equally important: Beyond those who actively seek to misinform or distract in the public arena, there are invisible yet powerful people and corporations who regularly make decisions about the means of energy production and consumption that have real and lasting consequences for the Earth’s climate. However, these powerful decision-makers are not seeking public attention to their deliberative processes and decisions, and news organizations appear to be allowing them to continue with business as usual under a cloak of invisibility. This finding/argument is significant because it touches on the key feature of public agendasetting and the construction of public debate, namely that remaining invisible from public scrutiny may be as important—if not more—an exercise of power as the ability to successfully place issues on the public agenda (Hansen, 2010: 51, drawing on Edelman, 1988). The need for a differentiated analysis of actors that takes into account how the visual presence and effectiveness of key actors may change over time and indeed vary depending on the topic and type of news event concerned is further borne out by a recent study by Wozniak et al. (2015). In a sophisticated design, not only combining analysis of visuals with analysis of text, but also assessing visual communication against the sources and professionals involved in the framing of visual communication, Wozniak et al. (2015) studied news coverage of selected climate change summits (COPs). They found that whereas NGOs were much less frequently quoted in textual content than politicians and other key decision makers (as commonly found in news research), they were “substantially more successful than government delegations in seeing their visual framing conceptions reproduced in print media 188
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coverage around the world” (Wozniak et al., 2015: 13). This success, the authors argue, is in part due to the familiarity of NGO sources with the news values and visual needs of media organizations and journalists, and partly due to the nature and particular visual needs/ opportunities of political summits like the COPs. They also recognize, however, the potential limitations of NGOs’ visual agenda success when concluding: “The very lopsided distribution of NGO-related or NGO-favored content in written texts versus visual representation supports the conclusion that NGOs essentially serve as ‘camera fodder’ for a policy debate that in its substance is dominated by political elite sources.” (Wozniak et al., 2015: 14). In summary, studies of visual environmental news coverage have shown that beyond images of the environment/nature and industry, images of people feature prominently. Visual environmental communication research, and indeed visual communication research more widely, has also demonstrated the importance of differentiating between the different types of people visualized, and whether they are identifiable and recognizable by viewers or, alternatively, ‘ordinary’ or ‘unknown’ people in (maybe) distant geographical locations (e.g., Figure 12.4). Different types of people are thus invested visually with very different degrees of authority, agency and credibility. Of further relevance to the study of visual environmental communication and in relation to the key categories discussed earlier is communication research on audiences showing, as Coleman (2010: 249) summarizes, that close-up visuals of people are more likely to attract viewers’ attention and are more memorable than ‘images of places and things.’
Methodological Considerations and Challenges Visual analysis draws, as indicated at the start, from a wide range of disciplines and theoretical backgrounds. These are excellently introduced and discussed elsewhere, in for example the classic introduction by Rose (2016, now in its fourth edition). The aim in this short section is therefore more narrowly focused on drawing attention to the approaches that characterize visual environmental communication research concerned with mediated communication of the environment, and indeed concerned with examining such communication in its wider social, political and cultural context. By far the main focus of research on visual environmental communication has been on the media content itself, that is on the images and visual representation used in news media, advertising, film and other media genres. Connecting the analysis of media ‘content’ with analysis of the two other main sites of the communication process—production and audiences/consumption—has, with regard to the visual as indeed in environmental communication research generally (Hansen, 2011), received less research attention and lagged behind. Yet, it is clear, and indeed often noted by studies focused on analysis of the visual representations themselves (e.g., Nerlich and Jaspal, 2014), that although analysis of content is a good starting point (and the most immediately visible point of research entry), research must go further to address the production and consumption of images if we are to understand the role of visualization in the wider politics of the environment. Here, I wish to highlight some of the main considerations and challenges regarding methods and approaches to studying visual environmental communication. As a broad characterization, Coleman’s (2010: 246) description of dominant methods in visual communication research is equally applicable and relevant to the growing body of research images and visualization in environmental communication: “The qualitative and quantitative counterparts of textual analysis and content analysis still are the most predominant methods used to study visual frames.” Qualitative approaches to visual environmental 189
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communication have drawn predominantly from semiology, linguistics, critical discourse analysis and rhetorical theory (see Walsh, 2015, for an insightful overview of the contribution of the discipline of rhetoric). Quantitative analyses have applied the standard social science method of content analysis to categorize and enumerate environmental imagery across a range of media genres. And many have advocated and tried to use both. The concepts of framing (see Coleman, 2010, and Nisbet and Newman, 2015) and narrative/storytelling (see Wozniak et al., 2015) have provided further inspiration and productive input into the development of visual environmental communication. The challenges of combining qualitative and quantitative methods notwithstanding, the three key methodological challenges facing visual environmental communication research have been: 1) accounting for the relationship between visual and textual representation; 2) generating reliable and comparable definitions of frames/framing; and 3) accounting for narrative development in visual representation. As indicated earlier, where studies of environmental communication in the news media have examined the relationship between images and text (and many, of course, do not do this), there have been interesting and sometimes diverging conclusions (as discussed by, for example, DiFrancesco and Young, 2011) about not only the overall messages conveyed, but also about how/whether the meaning of images is governed by/anchored in the text. As argued elsewhere (Hansen and Machin, 2013), the multimodal nature of modern mediated communication calls for a multimodal analytical approach that particularly accepts the need to analyze visual images in relation to text (in news media: captions, but more significantly the accompanying news text and headlines) and sound. Although framing undoubtedly offers an exciting and potentially highly productive approach to the analysis of visual environmental communication, the same problems as have characterized its widespread popularity and use in communication research generally since the early 1990s are evident also in the—still—comparatively small number of studies of the visualization of the environment. Rebich-Hespanha et al. (2015) capture this very well in their effort to synthesize existing studies, where they note the challenges in comparing and summarizing the diverse range of visual themes and frames identified in these studies into a coherent framework. Differences in how studies define frames (including whether there is a clear distinction between ‘frame’ and ‘theme’) and the level at which these are defined thus vary widely: some studies, such as O’Neill (2013), discuss just two major frames, a ‘contested’ and a ‘distancing’ visual frame; others, like Rebich-Hespanha et al. (2015) identify a very large number of themes that they then—through robust statistical analysis—summarise into 15 key frames. Capturing the narrative development in visual environmental communication is selfevidently important in the analysis of news reporting, which is characterized by stories evolving/developing from one day to the next, or more accurately in today’s 24/7 digital news environment from hour to hour. As Friedman (2015: 152) points out in her succinct overview of environmental journalism, a distinguishing feature is the use of multimedia and visual elements to accompany the reporting. [. . .] Both interactive databases and visual storytelling are now a critically important part of environmental journalism on the Internet, helping to illustrate and explain important and complex information. But narrative analysis is also relevant to other genres, such as television entertainment fiction, film, advertising and indeed to still images. As Wozniak et al. (2015: 483) demonstrate, 190
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framing analysis and narrative analysis need to be combined in order to capture fine nuances in how elements of news stories interrelate and are ‘spun’ to produce particular messages, and, as they argue, “it is these interrelations that guide readers’ perceptions” and should therefore receive more scholarly research attention. Narrative analysis of news coverage can help in demonstrating how key stakeholders and actors in for example the climate change debate are variously constructed in the classic narrative roles of ‘hero,’ ‘villain,’ ‘helper,’ etc. But it can also help, especially in longitudinal analysis, to show how particular storylines emerge and become—over time—the master narratives or master frames.
Future Directions Research on the visual communication of the environment has made late (compared to environmental communication research generally) but highly significant progress in recent times. There is thus now a promising and growing body, as we have seen, of research on the visual communication of the environment and nature across a diverse range of media and media genres (including news, advertising, film, etc.) and likewise promising advances in methodological approaches and in theorizing visual analysis within the wider context of media and communication research. However, much remains to be done not least in terms of unpacking how visualization and the construction of visual meanings serve to bolster and privilege particular ideological views and perspectives over others, and thus influence the balance of arguments in the public sphere about the environment, the politics of the environment. At the macro-level, research on visual environmental communication needs to combine the analysis of media and communication content (the most prolific focus of research to date) with analysis of its production and its reception/consumption. This is not simply a question of bringing together or comparing findings from individual and separate studies from each of these sites/domains, but rather a question of formulating research designs within theoretical frameworks that articulate the relationship and dynamics between the sites. Promising frameworks for this kind of work are already available from the long history of media and communication research in the form of, e.g., agenda-setting theory, framing and cultivation analysis, but such frameworks need to be applied to the field of visual environmental communication research. Research within the framework of agenda-setting theory indicates for example that photographs and other visual representations influence agenda processes in ways that are distinct from the contribution of textual content. Thus, Jenner (2012) finds that news photographs affect policymaker attention, but seem to have a more ambivalent impact on public attention to environmental issues. There are also indications from advances in visual communication research generally that controlled experimental designs can offer productive ways forward in terms of gaining insight into how visual design and content influence audiences’ perceptions, memory and opinions about issues (Coleman, 2010; Powell et al., 2015). With regard to the analysis of media and communications content, the strengths and insights of traditional qualitative approaches (semiotics, linguistics, critical discourse analysis, rhetorical analysis) and quantitative approaches (content analysis) need to be mobilized into a multimodal design that considers how ‘meaning’ is influenced through the multiple sign-systems of digital communication media, and the increasingly diverse nature of communication forms and media. As cogently and convincingly argued by Rebich-Hespanha et al. (2015) and by Wozniak et al. (2015), visual environmental research needs to move towards more standardized procedures, both in order to facilitate comparability across 191
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studies, but also in order to investigate and understand how visualization of the environment varies across media, time, geographic and cultural regions, political systems, type of audience, etc. Understanding the social and political implications of how the environment and environmental problems are communicated visually (and otherwise) is not surprisingly of great interest to anybody concerned with the politics of the environment. But if much or even most of what we as publics know or recognize as ‘the environment’ or as ‘environmental problems’ comes to us in mediated form, then it becomes equally important to understand how particular images and visualizations shaping that understanding come about in the first place and/or come to dominate the visual construction of the environment in the public sphere. Attending to the production site, and drawing on promising work in environmental communication generally (e.g., Miller and Dinan, 2015; Williams, 2015), visual analysis thus needs to engage directly with questions about how source-roles (including the visually focused claims-making, ‘information subsidies,’ PR and news management strategies pursued by key stakeholders such as environmental pressure groups, government departments, industry and big business), journalistic conventions and practices, format constraints and media organizational and economic arrangements interact and impinge on whose (visual) definitions gain prominence and are afforded legitimacy in the news media and in wider public communication.
Related Topics Many of the issues discussed in this chapter from the particular perspective of visual analysis will be pursued in more methodological detail by other chapters in this section. The reader may particularly wish to explore Chapters 13, 17 and 18.
Further Reading Hansen, A. and Machin, D. (2013), ‘Researching visual environmental communication,’ Environmental Communication: A Journal of Nature and Culture, 7(2): 151–168. doi:http://dx.doi.org/10.1080/ 17524032.2013.785441 Placing research into visual representations of the environment into the wider trajectory of visual studies research, this article proceeds to review key trends in visual communication research. Arguing for a multimodal approach, the article delineates the key dimensions, contexts and sites of visual analysis. Rebich-Hespanha, S., Rice, R. E., Montello, D. R., Retzloff, S., Tien, S. and Hespanha, J. P. (2015), ‘Image themes and frames in US print news stories about climate change,’ Environmental Communication, 9(4): 491–519. doi:10.1080/17524032.2014.983534 Provides a comprehensive review and categorization of research on visual environmental communication, and proceeds to describe a robust framework for the systematic and quantitative analysis of visual news framing of climate change. This is then applied to US newspaper and magazine from 1969 through 2009. The study is particularly noteworthy for the flexibility and data-driven nature of its conceptualization of framing. Walsh, L. (2015), ‘The visual rhetoric of climate change,’ Wiley Interdisciplinary Reviews-Climate Change, 6(4): 361–368. doi:10.1002/wcc.342 This article excellently complements other recent reviews of visual environmental communication research by showing the strong and well-established tools provided by the discipline of rhetoric. Walsh demonstrates how key concepts in rhetorical analysis, traditionally applied to text, are equally useful for analyzing and understanding the visually realized arguments about climate change in their political context. 192
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Wozniak, A., Lück, J. and Wessler, H. (2015), ‘Frames, stories, and images: The advantages of a multimodal approach in comparative media content research on climate change,’ Environmental Communication, 9(4): 469–490. doi:10.1080/17524032.2014.981559 Identifies common shortcomings in the existing body of visual environmental communication research and presents a multimodal research design for the standardized content analysis of climate change coverage in print media. Particularly useful discussion of the integration of framing, narrative analysis and visual interpretation into a single coding frame that can be applied in longitudinal and comparative media analysis.
References Ahern, L., Bortree, D. S. and Smith, A. N. (2013), ‘Key trends in environmental advertising across 30 years in National Geographic magazine’, Public Understanding of Science, 22(4): 479–494. doi:10.1177/0963662512444848 Barthes, R. (1977), ‘Rhetoric of the image’, in S. Heath (ed.), Image, Music, Text: Essays Selected and Translated by Stephen Heath. London: Fontana, pp. 32–51. Boykoff, M. T. and Boykoff, J. M. (2004), ‘Balance as bias: Global warming and the US prestige press’, Global Environmental Change-Human and Policy Dimensions, 14(2): 125–136. Brönnimann, S. (2002), ‘Picturing climate change’, Climate Research, 22(1): 87–95. Coleman, R. (2010), ‘Framing the pictures in our heads: Exploring the framing and agenda-setting effects of visual images’, in P. D’Angelo and J. A. Kuypers (eds.), Doing News Framing Analysis: Empirical and Theoretical Perspectives. London: Routledge, pp. 233–261. Cottle, S. (2000), ‘TV news, lay voices and the visualisation of environmental risks’, in S. Allan, B. Adam and C. Carter (eds.), Environmental Risks and the Media. London: Routledge, pp. 29–44. Cozen, B. (2013), ‘Mobilizing artists: Green Patriot posters, visual metaphors, and climate change activism’, Environmental Communication: A Journal of Nature and Culture, 7(2): 297–314. doi: 10.1080/17524032.2013.777353 DiFrancesco, D. A. and Young, N. (2011), ‘Seeing climate change: The visual construction of global warming in Canadian national print media’, Cultural Geographies, 18(4): 517–536. doi:10.1177/1474474010382072 Dobrin, S. and Morey, S. (eds.) (2009), Ecosee: Image, Rhetoric, Nature. New York: State University of New York Press. Downs, A. (1972), ‘Up and down with ecology—the issue attention cycle’, The Public Interest, 28(3): 38–50. Edelman, M. (1988), Constructing the Political Spectacle. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Friedman, S. (2015), ‘The changing face of environmental journalism in the United States’, in A. Hansen and R. Cox (eds.), The Routledge Handbook of Environment and Communication. London, New York: Routledge, pp. 144–157. Graber, D. A. (1990), ‘Seeing is remembering: How visuals contribute to learning from television news’, Journal of Communication, 40: 134–155. Hall, S. (1981), ‘The determinations of news photographs’, in S. Cohen and J. Young (eds.), The Manufacture of News. Revised edition. London: Constable, pp. 226–243. Hansen, A. (2010), Environment, Media and Communication. London: Routledge. Hansen, A. (2011), ‘Communication, media and environment: Towards reconnecting research on the production, content and social implications of environmental communication’, International Communication Gazette, 73(1–2): 7–25. doi:10.1177/1748048510386739 Hansen, A. (2015), ‘News coverage of the environment: A longitudinal perspective’, in A. Hansen and R. Cox (eds.), The Routledge Handbook of Environment and Communication. London and New York: Routledge, pp. 209–220. Hansen, A. and Machin, D. (2008), ‘Visually branding the environment: Climate change as a marketing opportunity’, Discourse Studies, 10(6): 777–794. doi:10.1177/1461445608098200 193
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Hansen, A. and Machin, D. (2013), ‘Researching visual environmental communication’, Environmental Communication: A Journal of Nature and Culture, 7(2): 151–168. doi:http://dx.doi.org/10.1080/ 17524032.2013.785441 Howlett, M. and Raglon, R. (1992), ‘Constructing the environmental spectacle: Green advertisements and the greening of the corporate image,’ Environmental History Review, 16(4): 53–68. International Communication Gazette (2011), ‘Introduction,’ 73(1–2), 3–6. Special double issue on Communicating the Environment, Guest-editors: A. Hansen and J. Doyle. Jenner, E. (2012), ‘News photographs and environmental agenda setting’, Policy Studies Journal, 40: 274–301. Kroma, M. M. and Flora, C. B. (2003), ‘Greening pesticides: A historical analysis of the social construction of farm chemical advertisements,’ Agriculture and Human Values, 20(1): 21–35. Lester, L. and Cottle, S. (2009), ‘Visualizing climate change: Television news and ecological citizenship.’ International Journal of Communication, 3: 920–936. Linder, S. H. (2006), ‘Cashing-in on risk claims: On the for-profit inversion of signifiers for “Global Warming” ’, Social Semiotics, 16(1): 103–132. Meisner, M. S. and Takahashi, B. (2013), ‘The nature of Time: How the covers of the world’s most widely read weekly news magazine visualize environmental affairs,’ Environmental Communication: A Journal of Nature and Culture, 7(2): 255–276. doi:10.1080/17524032.2013.772908 Mellor, F. (2009), ‘The politics of accuracy in judging global warming films’, Environmental Communication: A Journal of Nature and Culture, 3(2): 134–150. doi:10.1080/17524030902916574 Miller, D. and Dinan, W. (2015), ‘Resisting meaningful action on climate change: Think tanks, “merchants of doubt” and the “corporate capture” of sustainable development’, in A. Hansen and R. Cox (eds.), The Routledge Handbook of Environment and Communication. London, New York: Routledge, pp. 86–99. Mitman, G. (1999), Reel Nature: America’s Romance With Wildlife on Film. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Nerlich, B. and Jaspal, R. (2014), ‘Images of extreme weather: Symbolising human responses to climate change’, Science as Culture, 23(2): 253–276. doi:10.1080/09505431.2013.846311 Nisbet, M. C. and Newman, T. P. (2015), ‘Framing, the media, and environmental communication’, in A. Hansen and R. Cox (eds.), The Routledge Handbook of Environment and Communication. London, New York: Routledge, pp. 325–338. O’Neill, S. J. (2013), ‘Image matters: Climate change imagery in US, UK and Australian newspapers’, Geoforum, 49(October): 10–19. doi:http://dx.doi.org/10.1016/j.geoforum.2013.04.030 O’Neill, S. J. and Smith, N. (2014), ‘Climate change and visual imagery,’ Wiley Interdisciplinary Reviews-Climate Change, 5(1): 73–87. doi:10.1002/wcc.249 Peeples, J. (2013), ‘Imaging toxins’, Environmental Communication: A Journal of Nature and Culture, 7(2): 191–210. doi:10.1080/17524032.2013.775172 Philo, G. and Happer, C. (2013), Communicating Climate Change and Energy Security: New Methods in Understanding Audiences. London: Routledge. Porter, N. (2013), ‘ “Single-minded, compelling, and unique”: Visual communications, landscape, and the calculated aesthetic of place branding’, Environmental Communication: A Journal of Nature and Culture, 7(2): 231–254. doi:10.1080/17524032.2013.779291 Powell, T. E., Boomgaarden, H. G., De Swert, K. and de Vreese, C. H. (2015), ‘A clearer picture: The contribution of visuals and text to framing effects’, Journal of Communication, 65(6): 997–1017. doi:10.1111/jcom.12184 Rebich-Hespanha, S., Rice, R. E., Montello, D. R., Retzloff, S., Tien, S. and Hespanha, J. P. (2015), ‘Image themes and frames in US print news stories about climate change’, Environmental Communication, 9(4): 491–519. doi:10.1080/17524032.2014.983534 Rose, G. (2016), Visual Methodologies: An Introduction to the Interpretation of Visual Materials. 4th edition. London: Sage. Schneider, B. and Nocke, T. (eds.) (2014), Image Politics of Climate Change: Vizualisations, Imaginations, Documentations: Transcript Verlag. 194
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13 Investigating Texts about Environmental Degradation Using Critical Discourse Analysis and Corpus Linguistic Techniques Richard J. Alexander
Introduction: Using Critical Discourse Analysis For about two and a half decades, ‘ecolinguistics’ has been used as a term for linguistic analysis that seeks to uncover ideologies that work against ecologically or environmentally sound principles. Ecolinguists’ aim is to question the ideologies that unsustainably underpin commercial industrialization processes and to challenge activities that are leading to ecological destruction and social injustice (Stibbe, 2015: passim). In this chapter, we focus in particular on critical discourse research combined with corpus linguistic (CL) techniques that have been used to scrutinize texts about environmental degradation. It is rare for people to perceive and grasp by means of their senses the implications of ecological problems like the destruction of forests and ecosystems on which all species, including humans, depend. Usually it is the many-voiced discourse of scientists, corporate interests and media popularizers that is the source of our knowledge of such issues. This is filtered and very often distorted by the media or other presentations of such happenings. So we might well hear the question being posed: How far is the ‘real world’ endangered, after all? Maybe it is asking too much to expect ordinary people to understand easily how the short-term activities that they and their forefathers engage (or have engaged) in contribute (or have contributed) to long-term, unintended consequences for the globe as a whole. As the Keynesian adage consolingly and individualistically notes: ‘in the long-run we are all dead.’ But not, of course, all at the same time, we might add. Furthermore demonstrating the link between discourse and the comprehension of ecological issues is a central area for interdisciplinary research to focus on. It is hence perhaps no surprise to see that the issue of relating to the destruction of the environment as humans is, at least partially, a linguistic or discourse predicament. Ecolinguists are convinced that discourse plays a major role in predisposing speakers to comprehend or to construct the world in a specific fashion. It is not enough to fix on individual vocabulary items like, for example, the ambiguous term ‘environment.’ This can be contrasted with ‘physical reality.’ Defining environment as relative to how human beings 196
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interact with ‘physical reality’ is to take up an anthropocentric stance. On the other hand, to bring in all animate beings and see human life as part of the broader biosphere, as one mere element within it, presupposes the constant interaction of human beings with, and as an inseparable part of, their environment or ecology (Lakoff, 1987: 215). Just to list such terms is to underline the impossibility of grasping the location of human existence at the level of individual words or concepts. More appropriately, language users are involved in social processes. The recognition of the primacy of the social clearly has methodological consequences for those of us who are interested in or concerned with the workings of the socioeconomic and political ‘real’ world. Understanding of the way language and the investigation of ecology (indeed of science and technological applications in general) are linked requires an interdisciplinary or transdisciplinary approach (see Halliday, 1990 in this context). The need to factor in the social and the political ramifications is likewise paramount. Such an approach is not new for linguists and certainly not for ecolinguists. The work discussed here is part of a project focusing on the dialectical relationship between language and ecology (see Alexander, 1993, 1996, 2009; Fill, 1993, 1996a and Stibbe, 2015). Environmental discourse and ecological thinking are seen as severely constrained within the frame of economic discourse and thinking. The destructive discourse of neo-classical market economics (Stibbe, 2015: 24) has acquired a perniciously firm and established institutional base. The rich and powerful business corporations, in particular, but also their acolytes in politics and the media, employ discourse to channel tolerance for further environmental degradation (Alexander, 2013, 2015). Trying to grasp how environmental degradation proceeds globally is a vast endeavor. The destruction caused by industrialization, urbanization, the land and sea search for minerals, energy and other materials is already massively documented. Even the Catholic Church in the shape of Pope Francis’ Laudato si’ Encyclical (2015) has taken a critical stance on this and has called for action to be taken. Regarding climate change and the broader environmental catastrophe that is unfolding before our eyes, there is little to say beyond noting that that there has been an ongoing massive public relations campaign by the leading oil corporations and other parts of the carbon emissions industrial complex (CEIC, pronounced ‘sick,’ in Chomsky’s terminology, see Street, 2013) to suppress and discredit the scientific consensus on anthropogenic global warming. At the outset I intend to make my standpoint explicit. The research discussed here investigates the ideological stances that underlie the discourse of, particularly, large multinational commercial bodies when they talk about ecological or environmental issues. A comment on committed scholarship is in order here. For as Susan George argues (2004: 207): “One of the prime responsibilities of critical intellectuals is to make these presuppositions explicit and this ideological framework visible, especially for students. They should also have the honesty to make their own stance clear.” The kind of studies discussed here show how light can be thrown on statements and claims made by various participants—both powerful forces and well-intentioned organizations—as they talk about and shape discourse and the activities they engage in on dealing with ecologically destructive or problematical processes ensuing, perhaps involuntarily.
Focus on Texts About Environmental Degradation The past 30 years or so have seen the rise of ‘green’ movements, environmental campaigning groups and political parties in many countries. These have articulated opposition to 197
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ecologically harmful social and commercial practices. Such activities, which have in part pushed through environmentally friendly legislation, have led business and economically powerful groups to go, first, on the defensive, and then, to begin to counter-attack. As Greer and Bruno (1996) demonstrate, large business corporations that were responsible for environmental damage ‘adopted’ the surface language and claims of the environmentalists and engaged in ‘greenwash.’ See the later section “Water for People or for Profit?” which is the summary of an empirical study of texts concerning Coca-Cola’s partnership with the World Wildlife Fund (WWF) of a few years ago. Hence the reports of environmental and ecological disasters, like oil spills in the Gulf of Mexico or loss of diversity linked with unsustainable agricultural practices in Indonesia, come and go cyclically like the stock market’s ups and downs (see Alexander, 2013, 2014, 2015). And clearly, in the world of corporate globalization, the pronounced monetary/ financial priorities of the latter discount the relevance of the former, namely ecological issues (other than as sensationalized attention-grabbers) in the globally mediatized profitmaking window on the world that is making the running and helping to run the world. Commercial companies in particular produce much discourse in the form of advertising and Internet material (e.g., company websites with so called corporate social responsibility reports). This purports to be engaging with environmental and ecological issues, but it effectively simply covers up the perpetuation of the degradation processes. Use of language is central to this process. What ecolinguists can do is to begin to untwist the knot of distortion that is contributing to the ecological crisis. The work of many ecolinguistic colleagues is engaging with the complex relationships that humans have with their surrounding ecology. The upshot of this ‘cascade’ of different perspectives and influences on ecological issues means a significant focus of language oriented analysis will entail moving beyond what might be conceived as narrow subject boundaries. It is the contention of this chapter, as mentioned, that an interdisciplinary approach is the only way language studies and actions which involve ecology and environmental issues can hope to proceed fruitfully in the future, in combination and cooperation with other disciplinary approaches—the social sciences, life sciences, biology, ecology and economics. In addition, given the way the world is ordered, it is evident that the underlying inequality of access to information about the world—ecology or the environment, in our case—is overlaid by a façade which frequently represents what goes on in the world as ‘natural,’ as ‘harmless’ or even as ‘inevitable.’ Here is a pivotal role for critical discourse analysis to take up in the sphere of language and ecology (see Stibbe, 2014). It is the dismantling of the language aspects of this façade that is the major objective of this chapter. Alexander (2009) aimed to highlight certain aspects of discourse in order to discover what the producers of the discourse are really getting at (see also Alexander and Stibbe, 2014). The focus here is on how speakers and writers seek to position their listeners, readers or viewers, thus getting (bringing) them to understand or see the ‘facts’ or the events they relate in a particular fashion. The nonbeneficial framing of ecology in this way is proceeding rapidly within our prevailing neo-liberal capitalist economic system. Moreover this is by no means a recent development. In the nineteen-seventies O’Neill (1972: 20) drew attention to these practices: “Political imagination is shackled by the corporate organization of modern society.” It is difficult for governments to limit the ability of multinational corporations “to shape the national ecology and psychic economy of individuals” (emphasis added). Some events caused by humans might be considered easy to comprehend. Then for certain human groups the necessity of remedying a bad situation would turn out to be clear. 198
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In democracies individuals can turn to their political representatives in parliament and request their help. Indeed, in certain circumstances they can even undertake peaceful direct action to put right what they consider to be wrongful actions on the part of their fellow humans. At least this is the theory that people who live in ‘democratic’ societies pick up in the course of growing up. In the reality of a neo-liberal, capitalistically globalized world, however, things ‘happen’ to regions and the inhabitants of those regions over which they have no control. Of course, these ‘happenings’ or actions are actually undertaken by other, often, external groups of people. These were often invaders or conquerors disregarding the will of the local inhabitants. This has happened when warlike people from certain countries have simply invaded or occupied lands and territories, say, during the so-called colonialist and imperialist periods of history. The result is that such situations have almost come to be ‘naturalized’ in the eyes and expectations of these outsiders. What part has such outsiders and their successors played in transforming our physical environment? And who are the contemporary groups who are continuing the ongoing degradation of the physical and geographical condition of our world? There are the usual suspects. A focus of this author’s work over the past 20 years has been on demonstrating and illustrating the ways multinational corporations and their political allies discoursally shape the environmental state of the world in a neoliberal capitalistic fashion.
Linguistic Features Useful for Ecolinguists to Focus On Over the past three decades a considerable body of both academic research work and activist, political and journalistic literature has accumulated. Copious research findings analyzing the discourse surrounding a wide range of ecological issues and activities have accumulated. Numerous methods combining the use of corpora to complement qualitative analysis have been applied to show how aspects of the ecology and environment have been articulated and construed in the discourse of companies, in the media and advertising fields (see Caimotto and Molino, 2011, Gerbig, 1993, 1997). In particular, the emphasis has been on business practices of multinational corporations and how they present themselves to the public and their stakeholders. We will make no attempt to survey this vast field. Instead we briefly pick out some representative findings to illustrate some of the main themes and approaches involved. Over the past two decades the incorporation of ‘environmentally colored discourse’ into the communication of business has been frequently noted in the literature (Ihlen, 2009; Rutherford, 2006). Ihlen argues that companies view the challenge of climate change as an opportunity for business, whereas Rutherford claims that business élites and their lobbying organizations have appreciated the need to integrate the environment into their communication materials. This has resulted in a progressive increase in environmental symbols, imagery, rhetoric and concepts within business discourse. Nowhere is this more in evidence than in two multinational agricultural companies’ publicity websites that Alexander (2009) investigated. The objective was to uncover linguistic features that accompany more extensive discourse processes typical of corporate public relations and advertising materials. For both companies, the use of positively sounding words (‘purr-words’) was investigated. Broader corporate rhetorical processes designed to create a specific view of corporate activities also came to light. In particular, it was noteworthy how cautiously Pioneer Hi-Bred employed the keyword ‘genetic.’ Monsanto preferred a different term, ‘biotechnology,’ only employing ‘genetic’ three times. These self-images of the companies can be contrasted with the other-images and practices that opposition activists in the Third World and elsewhere, such as Vandana Shiva, are 199
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articulating and condemning. Vandana Shiva, the physicist and environmental activist manifests a critical capacity to see through language employed in the service of industrial and commercial agriculture (Shiva, 2000a). She uncovers the ideologies and values which specific terminological or lexical choices encode. She “uses her analytical ability to uncover the semantic engineering that goes on when global corporations colonize and destroy traditional agriculture in the Third World,” uncovering “the metaphors and the models underlying the so-called modernization of agriculture” (Alexander, 2009: 112 and 156). Shiva states, for example, that “[w]hen patents are granted for seeds and plants, as in the case of basmati, theft is defined as creation and saving and sharing seed is defined as theft of intellectual property” (Alexander, 2009: 118). In saying this, she is critiquing the discourse of Monsanto and the hegemonic forces of globalized agriculture. But more than that, Shiva seeks out and promotes alternative discourses that structure the world in very different ways, based on “abundance and sharing, diversity and decentralisation, and respect and dignity for all beings” (Shiva in Alexander, 2009: 112). But the toning down of destructive processes continues as we can see in the case of BP’s discoursal response to the Deep Water Horizon Spill. Alexander (2014) subjected the BP website’s press releases to a CL-supported qualitative discourse analysis, which attempted to take in how the company dealt with the crisis situation after the massive pollution of the Gulf of Mexico as a result of the Deep Water Horizon Spill. During the oil spill itself, and with BP issuing press releases since the beginning on April 21, 2010, it was not until the release dated June 4, 2010, and entitled “Chairman and CEO Give Assurance that BP will meet its Obligations in Gulf of Mexico” that something resembling an apology was published. One striking feature of such crisis communication is terminological control. We find in the news releases in 2010 that BP called what happened the ‘incident.’ It is a truism of corporate language that word choice and lexical patterning play a significant role in deflecting attention and downplaying real and potential troubles (see Alexander, 2009: 18). Everywhere destruction for agricultural purposes of virgin rain forests continues. Take, for example, how rapidly logging companies are cutting down the forests of Indonesian islands. Agribusinesses then establish palm oil plantations where Sumatran tigers or orangutans once lived. At the same time in western countries the discourse of nature conservation is on the increase in the media. Ironically a conservation society Fauna & Flora International (FFI) are interacting and cooperating with the corporate player, Cargill, one of the world’s largest agribusiness companies. Alexander (2015) examined the Fauna & Flora International-Cargill Partnership initiated in 2007. A CL analysis of Cargill’s website unearthed the use of positively associated words (purr-words). Cargill is claiming that palm oil production and orangutan conservation on Indonesian islands are compatible. Investigation of the reality on the ground, however, reveals a wide gulf between Cargill’s palm oil operations and its stated commitments and responsibilities under certain agreements they have signed up to. The habitats of orangutans are disappearing very rapidly. In essence such neoliberalized corporate discourse justifies exploiting nature and aims to avoid regulation. So here, as elsewhere, we see how business corporations, politicians and media commentators avoid calling a spade a spade when it comes to environmental degradation. Obfuscation is everywhere. A more suitable term might be ‘discourse engineering’ (Alexander, 2009: 24). We can see discourse engineering, say, in the form of terminological ‘shaping’ as a part of the greater, more amplified process of historical engineering—of indoctrination—which goes on today. It employs the full range of mass media images, sounds and discourse, so that a multi-disciplinary or interdisciplinary approach must be employed to grasp it. In another context Chomsky (1988: 623) talks of the need to acquire the means or “the tools of 200
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intellectual self-defence” to deal with such activities. I would agree with Chomsky (1987: 81) that it is “useful to [. . .] provide information and analysis and, I hope, understanding that is different from what is readily available.” Critical discourse analysts have investigated some of the ways in which ruling ideologies in the service of the rich and powerful become ‘naturalized’ common sense or background knowledge (see Fairclough, 1989: 91ff.). The sustaining of hegemonic forces thus often entails specific rhetorical tropes. The process of technocratic and bureaucratic naturalization is greatly enhanced by the way language users rhetorically activate certain linguistic constructions. The openly and systematically propagandistic and manipulative use of language is seldom encountered without a subtle mix of specific grammatical and lexical features such as ‘nominalization’ or grammatical metaphor implicating highly abstract nouns (Halliday, 1990) and permitting processes to be represented as ‘things’ (see also Schleppegrell, 1996 and Goatly, 1996). This practice is known as ‘reification.’ As Trevor Pateman (1980: 183) writes: “Human facts, unlike things and events in the world of nature, depend for their existence on what human beings do [original emphasis].” Reification is a widely indulged form of control utilized by powerfully vested or interested knowledge holders (i.e., academics and administrators of dominant institutions). Numerous discussions of environmental issues such as global warming reveal how directly and rapidly the technocratic reification processes operate in our networked global economy today. Nominalizing processes can serve to obscure reality. It is no surprise that the military and the technocrats favor this mode (see Alexander, 2009). Halliday (1990: 14) provides a pertinent example: What we seek is a capability for early initiative of offensive action by air and land forces to bring about the conclusion of battle on our terms. Halliday appends a ‘translation’: “naively, we want to be able to attack first to make sure we can win.” This mode enables the concealment of “agency, the expression of causality and the attribution of responsibility” (Fairclough, 1992: 236). Gerbig (1993) has clearly demonstrated in her insightful and convincing analysis using CL-based methods how in texts on the environment such processes are involved in issues surrounding agency and control (see also Gerbig, 1997). In the face of such ubiquitous ‘abstract’ discourse it is hence perhaps small wonder that many people express feelings of helplessness and being inextricably caught up in structures too big for them. The modern late capitalist system is deemed to be just ‘there.’ No specific individuals can be shown to have created this set of structures. As we shall see, the manipulative use of language by corporately sponsored nongovernmental organizations (NGOs) contributes to this. Often they engage in social control mechanisms to bring about the rejection and marginalization of those who propose radical change. One method in the United States is rather simple: dedicated anti-environmentalists create and occupy the agenda. Sierra Magazine, September/October 2005, relates how an ‘independent’ think tank, the Cato Institute, and Citizens for a Sound Economy (CSE) are only 2 of roughly 300 industry-funded groups that are helping businesses and the wealthy convert their vast economic and market power into political might and to suppress and discredit the scientific consensus on anthropogenic global warming (see Alexander, 2008; Street, 2013). There is much evidence that multinational corporations shape this institutional and corporate framework of discourse significantly. 201
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In this connection Prince Charles’s announcement, before a WWF event, chimes in perfectly (Clover, 2007). He stated that a consortium of companies—including Sky, Sun Media, Rio Tinto, KPMG, Deutsche, Morgan Stanley and Barclays—had undertaken to work with him to make old-growth forest more valuable alive than dead. His reported talk contains business-friendly jargon, support for industry interests and agentless reification, for example: “the private sector has all the essential skills in developing innovative responses to big challenges.” This has the appearance of corporations replacing action with ‘corporate responsibility reports.’ As Edwards (1995: 37) writes, the emphasis “on green consumerism, corporate responsibility and sustainable growth in the late 1980s and early 1990s can be seen [. . .] to be corporate-friendly surrogates for a true analysis of the causes of, and solution to, environmental problems.” The individual method adopted by the author holds that critical discourse analysis can benefit from employing such methods as computer-generated concordances, where texts are electronically available, to specifically investigate environmental discourse. Together with quantitative counts the perusal of concordanced items from particular texts may provide us with more explicit data about a writer’s categorical scheme. We thus set out to see how specific linguistic features are associated with or serve to uphold larger discourse processes, such as evaluation, argumentative strategies and discourse tactics. This enables the analyst to support empirically what readers otherwise just infer concerning the ideological or principled positions which speakers or writers adopt. As critical linguists such as Fowler (1991: 67) say, there are “certain areas of language particularly implicated in coding social values.” So methodologically, we can significantly enhance a qualitative critical discourse analysis (CDA) approach by using more quantitatively oriented CL techniques (see Alexander, 2009; Cheng, 2013; Hardt-Mautner, 1995). As already stated, this author has concentrated on investigating the discourse of an assortment of multinational corporations relevant to the ecological changes being created. Given the power they hold they can employ obfuscating language that is deliberately used to keep consumers guessing. In this connection the work of Ed Herman is pertinent where he has discussed the relation between power and who gets to wield the influence to shape public discourse through the media (1992: 14). In a democracy not everyone has equal access to the media. According to Herman “the more powerful they are, the more easily they can lie and the less likely it is that their lies will be corrected.” In dominant media discourse correlation between status and the likelihood of counting as ‘credible’ is equally obvious. And it is precisely this ‘credibility’ which grants the most powerful in western democracies ‘freedom to lie’—a freedom not enjoyed by ‘normal’ citizens. My thesis is that this is ethically problematic for a number of reasons. And the failure to make explicit what real interests underlie writings in both scientific and journalistic genres, as well as in business and politics is an additional complicating factor in the discourse about environmental issues (Alexander, 2009: 3). We will here focus on a problem where the activities of corporations have created social disasters for peasant villagers and have disturbed their everyday lives. As UNESCO (2006) puts it: “Water is one thing that people all over need in order to live happy, healthy lives.” Yet it is also conceivable that the control of water by large multinational businesses may become a major source of conflict in this century. A question being posed is whether access to water should be free (as part of the commons) or whether commercial companies should sell it. Among other issues water pollution particularly affects the poor who cannot buy bottled water. This is what makes the study that follows noteworthy. 202
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Water for People or for Profit? Illustrative Case Study of Coca-Cola In 2008 Coca-Cola published an extension of the objectives of its partnership with the WWF concerning water conservation and climate protection. A corpus-based investigation of the Coca-Cola and WWF partnership on water conservation provides evidence of how damage to the environment—here in the form of overuse and pollution of groundwater—is covered up by a major multinational. The manner in which Coca-Cola and its partner positions itself can be gauged by the declaration of Carter Roberts, the president of WWF-US, who states: “In this resource constrained world, successful businesses will find ways to achieve growth while using fewer resources. The Coca-Cola Company’s commitment to conservation responds to the imperative to solve the global water and climate crisis.” This text contains ‘purr-words,’ such as ‘achieve,’ ‘commitment,’ ‘imperative’ and ‘solve,’ on the one hand, agentless constructions, like ‘resource constrained world’ (who is doing the constraining?), and logically and ecologically unsound phrases like ‘achieve growth while using fewer resources,’ on the other (Coca-Cola, 2008). In view of such obfuscating discourse an empirical CL study of the website presentation of the project was undertaken. A freestanding PDF file from Coca-Cola’s website, the ‘Replenish Report (January, 2010),’ was downloaded.1 The text analysis program AntConc facilitated searches of the corpus.2 There were 21 webpages, 8,846 words (tokens) and 1,685 different words (types); this gave a type-tokenratio (TTR) of 0.1905. The repetitive nature of the text is reflected in the low ratio. We know from corpus-based studies (Alexander, 2009: passim) that certain linguistic features can carry great weight. Consulting frequency lists of lexical items can provide a starting point. The most frequent lexical items can suggest what the text is ‘about.’ Here they are listed, with the first number indicating the rank order and the second the number of occurrences: ‘water’ (3, 344), ‘projects’ (15, 61), ‘benefits’ (18, 53), ‘project’ (19, 51), ‘Coca’ (23, 43), ‘Cola’ (24, 43), ‘communities’ (26, 42), ‘watershed’ (27, 39), ‘sustainable’ (28, 38), ‘use’ (29, 38) (only 4 instances of the verb), ‘sanitation’ (30, 37), ‘access’ (31, 35), ‘community’ (32, 34), ‘partnership’ (33, 34), ‘company’ (37, 32) ‘resources’ (36, 32), ‘global’ (38, 29), ‘supply’ (39, 29), ‘local’ (40, 28), ‘program’ (41, 27), ‘freshwater’ (42, 26), ‘development’ (44, 25), ‘management’ (45, 24). ‘Water,’ perhaps unsurprisingly, with 344 occurrences, is the most frequent content word, making up 3.88% of the total tokens. As well as a preliminary content analysis like this, omissions are significant; for example, ‘groundwater’ occurs only once. There had been protest actions against Coca-Cola about groundwater losses in India over the past two decades before this document was published. Avoidance of certain themes is a staple technique of PR discourse, of course. A number of linguistic devices can be shown to pervade the website. Here we summarize a selection, looking at ‘purr-words,’ euphemisms, nominalizations and the use of future tense forms. Purr-words, as nonlinguists call them (see Hayakawa, 1941), are positively sounding or euphemistic words. Scrutinizing corporate discourse allows us to uncover characteristics associated with them (see also Alexander, 2009). They tend to form clusters, creating a cumulative effect that may well convey a confident and categorical note to the discourse. A corporate favorite is ‘commitment.’ It occurs here seven times (see Table 13.1). The concordance shows that ‘our’ occurs as a left collocate three times. Personal pronouns play a major role in managing relational aspects of communication (Fairclough, 1989: 111), contributing in important ways to how writers position their texts in relation to readers. So what 203
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Table 13.1 ‘Commitment’ concordance 1 2 3 4 5 6 7
s. The convergence of this mutual -year commitment. It is an ongoing environments where we operate. Our the CWP projects that underlie our ter that sustains us. Through our global priority. The Foundation’s iated with a $30 million, sixyear
commitment commitment commitment commitment commitment commitment commitment.
has provided the basis for the dev focused on building sustainable co to protecting and managing water to return the water that we use. to water resources sustainability, to water stewardship has included It is an ongoing commitment focus
kind of relationship do the authors of the Coca-Cola text set out to create with their readers? Overall it is fair to state that it is a ‘distanced,’ objective, formal or ‘authority’-based one, rather than a close, informal, personal or equal-terms one. Other items discussed later underline this. Further positive immediate left collocates are found in the concordance. If we view the co-text (1) we find that items 3 and 5 come in consecutive sentences, thus iteratively underlining and elaborating it so to speak, as we said earlier. (1) “Our commitment to protecting and managing water resources is driven by the very real and growing vulnerability of the fresh water that sustains us. Through our commitment to water resources sustainability, we are helping to protect the sources of water used in our beverages, reducing vulnerability to water shortages and poor water quality, raising awareness, and strengthening the communities and the health of the ecosystems where we work.” Another strong ‘purr-word’ is ‘engage.’ Following up this and its formally related terms we find 22 instances in all: ‘engage’ (3), ‘engaging’ (6), ‘engaged’ (5) and ‘engagement’ (8). See Table 13.2 for an extract from the ‘engag***’ concordance: All 22 instances display positive highlighted collocates both right and left of the node words including ‘global community’ (a far reaching claim indeed!), ‘community’ (4 instances), ‘(key) stakeholders’ (7), ‘(key) suppliers’ (5), ‘partner’ (3). The affirmative semantic prosody created in this manner is echoed in the context of several other ‘purr-words.’ The text contains euphemisms. The preference for particular words and metaphors that help to conceal certain aspects of reality and direct attention at others is widespread in corporate discourse. There is space for one example. So, ‘embedded’ is preferred instead of explicitly saying ‘consumed’ (Table 13.3). This is a term that distracts from the real situation, as did the phrase ‘embedded journalists’ during the invasion of Iraq. The impersonal style and ‘scientific’ ring to the whole text is certainly supported by many abstract nouns and nominalizations. Following Fairclough (1992: 236) one of our analytical objectives is to see “how significant is the nominalization of processes.” We find many 204
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Table 13.2 Extract from the ‘engag***’ concordance of water resources challenges and he Coca-Cola system to effectively
engage engage
ng Group for Fruits. We also are , beet, and sugarcane). 3. We are
engaging engaging
_ Stakeholder identification, _ e program’s sixth year, we have
Engaging engaged
Nature Conservancy and GETF have igning a positive, social stained and wide-spread community nvironmental resources. PARTNER
engaged engagement engagement ENGAGEMENT
the global community. Presently, key stakeholders on water resource key suppliers in Florida, Brazil a with our main sweetener suppliers with stakeholders, _ Information in more than 250 community water/ with external stakeholders to bett with a business imperative. and further project opportunities. Existing supplier relations give
Table 13.3 ‘Embedded’ concordance 1 2 3 4
ucts, examining indirect water use la. The pilot study estimates the as 35 liters. Of the 35 liters of that the largest percentage of the
embedded embedded embedded embedded
in our supply chain as well as dir water footprint of a 500 mL regul water use, 99% sits in the supply water use lies in the supply chain
nominalizations and thus inexplicit agency that leaves unstated who is responsible for the processes denoted. Consider the first sentence on the website (2). (2) “Human demands on freshwater resources are growing rapidly in many parts of the world, creating competition and uncertainty among water users and jeopardizing the ecological health of freshwater ecosystems.” The nominalization ‘demands’ leaves completely unspecified who is making them. The presupposition implied is that ‘all’ humans are involved. Who is jeopardizing ecological health also remains unnamed. The text is full of such process expressions. Consider a further example (3). (3) “We strive to meet our Replenish target through the CWP program, which implements locally relevant projects focused on water supply, sanitation, hygiene, watershed management, productive water use, and raising education and awareness.” The highlighted range of processes is broad, but no actors are identified. A look at the concordance for the noun ‘threats’ (Table 13.4) similarly displays a scarcity of named agents. It would be interesting to know who is held to threaten ‘local watersheds,’ ‘the reef’ in the form of deforestation or ‘local waterways and ecosystems.’ This rhetorical technique is set to absolve Coca-Cola of any responsibility at any rate. So many of the statements or claims Coca-Cola makes turn out to be future oriented, intentions rather than descriptions of present activities; for example “A better understanding of threats to local watersheds will increasingly drive CWP projects to more effectively protect and preserve water resources where there is the greatest need.” And not unexpectedly, 205
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Table 13.4 ‘Threats’ concordance pacity. A better understanding of and Honduras drain into the reef. rshed Protection projects address
threats Threats threats
to local watersheds will increasing to the reef include deforestation, to local waterways and ecosystems
Table 13.5 Extract from the ‘will’ concordance 4 6 9 12 15 16 17 22
farm. A second pilot project ish target, they are important and . In many cases, project benefits countries in Africa. This project ing of threats to local watersheds from this and other pilot projects hrough these projects, the Company anzania. New project interventions
will will will will will will will will
be launched in 2010 in collaborate continue to be noted in project ev extend beyond the five years, but help to provide improved access to increasingly drive CWP projects to inform development of best managem make an additional 1.4 billion and range from water supply and sanita
the future orientation of projects is reflected in the way futurity is expressed grammatically by ‘will’ (24 instances and see Table 13.5 for an extract from its concordance). At the same time many modally unspecific targets proliferate. Coca-Cola’s text aims to transmit an authoritative message. The impression of decisiveness, purported philanthropy and service to humankind is all part of a massive campaign to control the agenda and to crowd out critical voices. After all, Coca-Cola’s bottlers were known to contribute to severe water shortages around some of their bottling plants in India. As Kamat (2002) reported: “Coca-Cola, for instance, sources a bulk of its Kinley brand of bottled water from MVR Mineral Water, a contract bottler with a factory in Athur village, 40 kilometers from Chennai.” Villagers have struggled for 15 years against rapacious groundwater extraction. According to Kamat: “Virtually every packaged water company has externalized its costs to communities such as those in Athur and Mathus—communities that have been forced to contribute to the profits of these companies by involuntarily compromising their water security.” For many years Vandana Shiva, the Indian environmentalist, has condemned CocaCola for polluting the water in India. As Shiva says (2003): “[T]he Cola companies mine water for their bottling plants, robbing the poor of their very fundamental right to drinking water.” Shiva reported how tribal women in Plachimada in Palaghat district protested for a year against Coca-Cola because the company had drained their aquifers dry. Shiva notes (2003): “Wells and tanks have dried up with the water table dropping from 10 ft. to 100 ft.” The women were forced to carry water for 5 or 6 kilometers. Coca-Cola daily removed more than 1 million liters of water to produce 8.5 truckloads of soft drinks. The pressure on the water supply in India is also exacerbated by agribusiness activities encouraged by Coca-Cola’s competitor Pepsi with its Kentucky Fried Chicken chain of restaurants. Shiva (2000b: 70) has drawn attention to the way in which “globalization has created the McDonaldization of world food, resulting in the destruction of sustainable food systems.” She writes (op.cit, 70–71): Intensive breeding of livestock and poultry for such restaurants leads to deforestation, land degradation, and contamination of water sources and other natural resources. 206
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For every pound of red meat, poultry, eggs, and milk produced, farm fields lose about five pounds of irreplaceable top soil. The water necessary for meat breeding comes to about 190 gallons per animal per day, or ten times what a normal Indian family is supposed to use in one day, if it gets water at all.
Conclusion: Future Directions Capitalist corporations see water as a product, with many governments and transnational organizations furthering this commodification. There was a series of protests throughout India against such multinationals. It is perhaps not surprising that in 2007, according to the Press Trust of India, “Coke skips India in its conservation pledge” (2007). There was no mention of India in the many projects around the world Coca-Cola and the WWF later undertook. But that does not seem to prevent them from continuing their ‘greenwashing’ elsewhere. So as a result of ‘bad publicity’ provoked by Coca-Cola’s bad record, especially in India, the company clearly felt ‘compelled’ to find ‘allies’ (‘partnerships’) and engage in greenwash. The cooption of the ‘conservative’ NGO, World Wild Life Fund, need not surprise us. For example, Alexander has discussed other questionable activities that environmental NGOs, including WWF, are undertaking with giant multinationals. Alexander (2008) has considered how influential groups in society—mostly large corporations, their agents in public relations and government and academics working on behalf of industry and business—contribute to the construction and public exhibition of particular ideologies (see Stibbe, 2015: 22ff.). This bodes ill for the future of our planet. Looking to the future, we need to ask how an intellectually and politically engaged academic attempts to come to terms with this environmental degradation. How is one expected to act when one is aware of the damage caused by the export of solid waste and toxic liquids to developing countries, and by the pollution produced by companies which operate in less developed countries in ways they could never do at home, in the countries in which they raise their capital? As critical readers and observers it should thus be our task to highlight the tactics used to obfuscate questions concerning, for example, the rights to the commons and the urgent need to protect both human minorities who are socially and culturally threatened and endangered animals and nonrecognized fauna which is being degraded by commercially driven industrial and construction projects. Consider what we might call the general ‘structure of feeling’ of society. As Raymond Williams (1961: 64) says, this is “the culture of a period [. . .] the particular living result of all the elements in the general organization.” Since 1980 European societies have plainly become commercially oriented and dominated by short-term corporate business principles and practices. In short, capitalist consumerism rules OK in our one-dimensional society. Yet practitioners of obfuscation are playing down this process. Ecolinguists can still play a significant role, especially if they work in universities and other educational institutions spreading and extending awareness of such processes. A person trained in both the language and social sciences can set out to showcase examples of destructive discourse (Stibbe, 2015: 24–30) such as companies produce. They can highlight what is going on when corporations, politicians and activists talk and write, and hence influence what people think, about ecological and environmental issues. Powerful groupings of people may aim to transmit certain ideologies, as if they have entirely 207
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unquestioned validity. We have already mentioned how ‘naturalization’ processes can constitute a façade of apparent common sense. But, as Rao (2005: 30–31) appositely notes: This obscures the fact that structures are produced by agents, that some agents are more powerful than others, and that more powerful agents bear more responsibility for the structures they help to produce. Behind all structures are a number of agents—agents that have names, faces, addresses and bank balances. If structures are ever to change, it is necessary to identify the agents that produce and reinforce them (bearing in mind the structural constraints within which their agency operates). In short, it should be the task of committed scholars to allocate “names, faces, addresses and bank balances” to those responsible for damaging environmental activities.
Further Reading Bang, M. (2008), ‘Representation of foreign countries in the US press a corpus study’. Doctoral thesis, University of Birmingham. www.academia.edu/1102046/Representation_of_foreign_countries_ in_the_US_press_a_corpus_study Caimotto, M. C. and Molino, A. (2011), ‘Anglicisms in Italian as alerts to greenwashing: A case study’, Critical Approaches to Discourse Analysis Across Disciplines, 5(1): 1–16. http://cadaad. net/journal Hunston, S. (2010), Corpus Approaches to Evaluation: Phraseology and Evaluative Language. London: Routledge Kaltenbacher, M. (2007), ‘Systemic functional linguistics and corpus analysis: The language of exaggeration in web-sites of tourism’, in H. Gruber, M. Kaltenbacher and P. Muntigl (eds.), Empirical Approaches to Discourse—Empirieorientierte Ansätze in der Diskursanalyse. Frankfurt am Main: Peter Lang, pp. 89–117. Moser, K. (2015), ‘An ecolinguistic, scientific, and serresian interpretation of communication: The importance of (Re)-conceptualizing language from a more ecocentric perspective’, Language and Ecology Research Forum. www.ecoling.net/articles Partington, A., Morley, J. and Haarman, L. (eds.) (2004), Corpora and Discourse. Bern: Peter Lang. Ponton, D. (2015), ‘The natural choice? Metaphors for nature in a UK government white paper’, Language and Ecology. www.ecoling.net/articles. Wang, D. (2013), ‘Applying corpus linguistics in discourse analysis’, Studies in Literature and Language, 6(2): 35–39. www.cscanada.net/index.php/sll/article/view/3400
Notes 1 The material is taken from the website (see bibliography). The corpus consists of the ‘Replenish Report (January 2010)’ a freestanding PDF file on the Coca-Cola Company site, minus the many appendices. 2 The program was compiled by Laurence Anthony and is downloadable from his website.
References Alexander, R. J. (1993) ‘Introduction to the Aims of the Symposium, Work So Far and Some Ecolinguistic Principles to Pursue’, in R. J. Alexander, J. Chr. Bang and J. Døør, (eds.), (1993) Papers for the symposium “Ecolinguistics. Problems, theories and methods” AILA 1993. Odense: Odense University, pp. 21–30. 208
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Alexander, R. J. (1996), ‘Introduction to the Symposium “Language and Ecology: Past, Present and Future,” ’ in J. Bang, J. Døør, R. Alexander, A. Fill and F. Verhagen (eds.), Language and Ecology: Eco-Linguistics. Problems, Theories and Methods. Essays for the AILA 1996 Symposium. Odense: Odense University, pp. 17–25. Alexander, R. J. (2008), ‘How the anti-green movement and its “friends” use language to construct the world’, in M. Döring, H. Penz and W. Trampe (eds.), Language, Signs and Nature: Ecolinguistic Dimensions of Environmental Discourse. Essays in Honour of Alwin Fill. Tübingen: Stauffenburg Verlag, pp. 127–142. Alexander, R. J. (2009), Framing Discourse on the Environment: A Critical Discourse Approach. New York and London: Routledge. Alexander, R. J. (2013), ‘Shaping and misrepresenting public perceptions of ecological catastrophes: The BP Gulf Oil spill’, Critical Approaches to Discourse Analysis Across Disciplines, 7(1): 1–18. http://cadaad.net/journal Alexander, R. J. (2014), ‘How BP dealt with the aftermath of the 2010 Gulf of Mexico Deep Water Horizon Spill: Crisis communication under the microscope’, Language and Ecology Research Forum, www.ecoling.net/articles Alexander, R. J. (2015), ‘The neoliberalization of nature: An ecocritical examination of the discourse of wildlife conservation’, in R. Spannring, R. Heuberger, G. Kompatscher, A. Oberprantacher, K. Schachinger and A. Boucabeille (eds.), Tiere, Texte, Transformationen: Kritische Perspektiven der Human-Animal Studies. Bielefeld: Transcript Verlag, pp. 339–352. Alexander, R. J. and Stibbe, A. (2014), ‘From the analysis of ecological discourse to the ecological analysis of discourse’, Language Sciences, 41: 104–110. Caimotto, M. C. and Molino, A. (2011), ‘Anglicisms in Italian as alerts to greenwashing: A case study’, Critical Approaches to Discourse Analysis Across Disciplines, 5/1: 1–16. http://cadaad.net/journal Cheng, W. (2013), ‘Corpus-based linguistic approaches to critical discourse analysis’, in C. A. Chapelle (ed.), The Encyclopedia of Applied Linguistics. Oxford: Blackwell, pp. 1–8, www.researchgate.net/ publication/262070226 Chomsky, N. (1987), ‘The new cold war’, in B. Bourne, U. Eichler and D. Herman (eds.), Voices, From the Channel 4 Television Series: Writers and Politics. Nottingham: Spokesman, pp. 65–84. Chomsky, N. (1988), Language and Politics (ed. C. P. Otero). New York: Black Rose Books. Clover, C. (2007, October 25), ‘Prince Charles’s bid to save existing forests’, The Daily Telegraph, www.telegraph.co.uk/earth/main.jhtml?xml=/earth/2007/10/25/eacharles125.xml Coca-Cola (2008, October 30), ‘The Coca-Cola Company announces new global targets for water conservation and climate protection in partnership with WWF: Extends partnership with WWF to protect freshwater resources’, Multimedia News Release. www.thecoca-colacompany.com/citizen ship/conservation_partnership.html Edwards, D. (1995), Free to Be Human. Darlington, Devon: Green Books. Fairclough, N. (1989), Language and Power. Harlow: Longman. Fairclough, N. (1992), Discourse and Social Change. Cambridge: Polity Press. Fill, A. (1993), Ökolinguistik: Eine Einführung. Tübingen: Gunter Narr. Fill, A. (1996a), ‘Ökologie der Linguistik—Linguistik der Ökologie’, in A. Fill (ed.), pp. 3–16. Fill, A. (ed.) (1996b), Sprachökologie und Ökolinguistik. Tübingen: Stauffenburg Verlag. Fowler, R. (1991), Language in the Media: Discourse and Ideology in the Press. London: Routledge. George, S. (2004), Another World Is Possible If . . . London, New York: Verso. Gerbig, A. (1993), ‘The representation of agency and control in texts on the environment’, in R. J. Alexander, J. Chr. Bang and J. Døør, (eds.), (1993) Papers for the symposium “Ecolinguistics. Problems, theories and methods” AILA 1993. Odense: Odense University, pp. 61–73. Gerbig, A. (1997), Lexical and Grammatical Variation in a Corpus: A Computer-Assisted Study of Discourse on the Environment. Bern: Peter Lang. Goatly, A. (1996), ‘Green grammar and grammatical metaphors or language and the myth of power or metaphors we die by’, Journal of Pragmatics, 25: 537–560. (Reprinted in A. Fill and P. Mühlhäusler (eds.) (2001), pp. 203–225.) 209
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Greer, J. and Bruno, K. (1996), Greenwash: The Reality Behind Corporate Environmentalism. New York, Penang: The Apex Press and Third World Network. Halliday, M. A. K. (1990), ‘New ways of meaning: A challenge to applied linguistics’, Journal of Applied Linguistics, 6: 7–36. Hardt-Mautner, G. (1995), ‘Only connect: Critical discourse analysis and corpus linguistics’, University of Lancaster research paper. www.comp.lancs.ac.uk/computing/research/ucrel/tech_papers. html Hayakawa, S. I. (1941) [1939], Language in Thought and Action. Enlarged edition. San Diego: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, (1978). Originally published as Language in Action. Herman, E. S. (1992), Beyond Hypocrisy: Decoding the News in an Age of Propaganda. Including the Doublespeak Dictionary. Boston: South End Press. Ihlen, Ø. (Øyvind) (2009), ‘Business and climate change: The climate response of the world’s 30 largest corporations’, Environmental Communication, 3(2): 244–262. Kamat, A. (2002, May 28), ‘Water profiteers’, India Resource Center. www.indiaresource.org/issues/ water/2003/waterprofiteers.html Lakoff, G. (1987), Women, Fire, and Dangerous Things: What Categories Reveal About the Mind. Chicago, London: University of Chicago Press. O’Neill, J. (1972), Sociology as Skin Trade: Essays Towards a Reflexive Sociology. London: Heinemann. Pateman, T. (1980), Language, Truth and Politics: Towards a Rational Theory for Communication. Lewes: Jean Stroud. Pope Francis (2015, May 24), Laudato si’ (Praise Be to You—On Care for Our Common Home)— Encyclical, Pope Francis. www.papalencyclicals.net Press Trust of India (2007, June 6), ‘Coke skips India in its conservation pledge’. www.sourcewatch. org/index.php?title=WWF_and_Coca_Cola’s_$20_million_Water_Deal Rao, R. (2005), ‘Blenheim and Bangladore’, New Internationalist, 382: 30–31. Rutherford, P. (2006), ‘How have international business discourses on the environment changed over the last decade?’ Global Social Policy, 6(1): 79–105. Schleppegrell, Mary J. (1996) ‘Abstraction and agency in middle school environmental education’, in J. Chr. Bang, J. Døør, J., R. J. Alexander, A. Fill and F. Verhagen (eds.), (1996) Language and Ecology: Eco-Linguistics. Problems, Theories and Methods. Essays for the AILA 1996 Symposium. Odense: Odense University, pp. 27–42. Shiva, V. (2000a), ‘Poverty and globalisation’, 5th Reith Lecture. British Broadcasting Corporation (BBC) Series “Respect for the Earth.” http://news.bbc.co.uk/hi/english/static/events/reith_2000/ lecture5.stm Shiva, V. (2000b), Stolen Harvest: The Hijacking of the Global Food Supply. Cambridge, MA: South End Press. Shiva, V. (2003, September 25), ‘Coke: Hazardous even without pesticides’, ZNet Commentary (no pagination). Stibbe, A. (2014), ‘An ecolinguistic approach to critical discourse studies’, Critical Discourse Studies, 11(1): 117–128. Stibbe, A. (2015), Ecolinguistics: Language, Ecology and the Stories We Live By. London, New York: Routledge. Street, P. (2013, June 22), ‘Chomsky at left forum’, ZNet Commentary. UNESCO (2006), ‘Water and world views: The water language (March 22—World Water Day 2006 Water and Culture)’. www.unesco.org/water/wwd2006/world_views/water_language.shtml (accessed November 27, 2009) and http://en.unesco.org/themes/water-security (accessed December 8, 2016). Williams, R. (1961), The Long Revolution. Harmondsworth: Penguin.
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Metaphor: Friend or Foe? Metaphors are usually thought of as mental tools, devices that allow us to compress one or several thoughts or concepts into a joint representation. George Lakoff has becomes famous for showing that in order to better understand something, a metaphor can be priceless: many people have indeed felt that applying the ‘journey’ metaphor (Lakoff and Johnson, 1980) to their worldly existence has made them adopt a new view on their sometimes difficult or even impossible life situation. After all, a journey does get you somewhere, even if the circumstances of the trip can be harrowing: the ‘journeys’ that millions of displaced people are made to undertake in our times speak for themselves. But in addition to providing explanations for, or comforting those who suffer undeservedly from, life’s vicissitudes, metaphors also carry the unavoidable risk of the metaphor becoming the very thing it is representing: representation invading and taking over reality, so to speak. If this happens, the explanation becomes a restriction; one is forced to see things through the metaphoric lens: one is no longer aware that one is dealing with a metaphor. In most (or at least in many) cases, this is quite harmless; we speak of a ‘dead’ metaphor, as when it is said that one ‘must make hay while the sun shines,’ when none of us has had any hands-on experience with haymaking, and thus does not realize the importance of not having the hay out on the fields become wet and progressively less valuable or even useless as feed stuff or a cash crop. But there are also cases when the very use of a metaphor may provide a shortcut to less felicitous practices. An official, state-appointed torturer may ‘revive’ the old metaphor of ‘rubbing it in’ (originally meaning: ‘rubbing salt in a wound’), and actually practice this on a victim. The example is due to the late Czech/British linguist Gustav Herdan (1897–1968), who refers to the ‘special treatment’ given to the Czechoslovak Communist leader Rudolf Slánsky, who had fallen from grace during the 1971 purges. The torture was based on a metaphoric interpretation of his family name (Slánsky, literally meaning ‘salty’; masc.), in the Czech adaptation of the German ‘Salzmann,’ a common Jewish surname in Central Europe (see Herdan, 1956, Appendix).
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Linguists Riding into the Sunset From my own field, linguistics, I remember how my teacher, the famous Dane Louis Hjelmslev (1899–1965) used to entertain us students with his view of the solitary scientist entering upon an unused piece of language territory and becoming overwhelmed by the sensation. To him as a scientist, there was “nothing more rewarding than having before one an untouched field” where nobody had gone earlier. This feeling must be analogous to what history’s classic colonizers experienced when entering upon territories that no White man ever had trodden on; and since ‘nobody lived there,’ as the saying went, the land was up for grabs, not just unofficially (like in the case of the autonomous settlers); settling (or ‘squatting’) was sometimes elevated to the highest levels of patriotic and moral duty, as in the case of the Anglo-Norman Lord Marchers in Wales, or the homesteaders on Indian lands in the American West, who saw their journey and subsequent settlement as ‘manifest destiny,’ ‘manifesting’ itself in the guise of colonial exploitation. Disregarding the sexual innuendos of the linguistic metaphors (‘conquering a virgin language’), the field that the scientist envisions as working territory will never be the same, once he or she has put their feet or hands on it (‘made an imprint,’ like a modern tag or graffito). As everywhere in nature, entering a nondisrupted ecosystem (‘virgin land’) will disrupt it (rape, violate, destroy, defile, etc.) Even with the best of intentions (‘advancement of science,’ ‘service to humanity,’ ‘saving the Natives’ souls and languages,’ etc.), such interventions will indelibly mark the territory, just like a ski trail or other path that, once laid, will mark the terrain and invite others to follow it. (Actually in most cases, there is no choice: one has to follow the trail on the penalty of losing one’s way or getting out of one’s depth, literally). The deleterious effect of a powerful singular paradigm in science is to close off all other avenues and demonizing other approaches. As for linguistics, my late colleague Winfred P. Lehmann (1916–2009) once wistfully commented on the pernicious influence of the Chomsky paradigm on linguistic studies in the United States, saying that “the damage that Chomsky has done to American linguistics is unfathomable” (pers. comm., 2000). By preempting the virgin space, the rapist-scientist prevents others from ‘exploring’ (read: ‘exploiting’)1 the same (or even vaguely adjacent) terrain, except on the condition of slavishly enforcing the prevailing imprint, the ‘stamp’ left by the colonizing predecessors: think of the innumerous Chomskyan avatars in linguistic production that popped up in the wake of transformational grammar, or the way Old Norse master’s theses in Norway were for the longest times uniformly organized following the teachings and linguistic heritage of the iconic masters Hjalmar Falk (1859–1928) and Alf Torp (1853–1916).
On Finding a Suitable Metaphor Faced with the problem of the metaphor’s double-edgedness (‘friend and foe,’ as we now can say), the problem is how to deal with metaphoric language in a suitable manner. Given that different languages and culture display a bewildering variety of metaphors, it seems like an impossible task to distill a proper treatment of metaphors from this tohuwabohu. One could answer the question in a pragmatic manner, saying that ‘a suitable metaphor is one that does the job,’ and consider the case closed. In a wider, ecologically oriented discourse, one could consider the ecological characteristics of the job to be done and how the metaphor corresponds to it with respect to some defining criteria. The following is an example showing how things can go wrong, even unintentionally. 212
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In their ground-breaking work, Lakoff and Johnson (1980) observe that certain semantic dimensions are used for describing the cognitive field, by ‘carving up the world,’ as one might call it. For example, the dimension of ‘high-low’ is used to describe certain psychological states; alternatively, it can denote relationships of power. ‘High’ indicates a state of well-being or of being in control (compare being ‘high’ on booze or drugs, or feeling ‘on top’ of the situation); by contrast, a ‘low’ occurs when you’re telling the world that you’re ‘down’ or ‘depressed’ (where the prefix de- originally denoted a downward movement or state, like in the literal meaning of a (geological) depression). There are some dangers involved in this simplistic approach. Such dangers are typically of an ecological kind, having to do with the way certain segments of the population look at the endpoints of the ‘high-low’ dimension, and how they assign the world and its inhabitants to these endpoints, respectively. In their examples, Lakoff and Johnson themselves routinely (and probably unconsciously) assign the female person to the metaphorical low position, whereas the corresponding ‘high’ is occupied by the male—all this in the course of a mere page and half, without so much as an explanatory or expiatory footnote (Lakoff and Johnson, 1980: 15–16)! Notwithstanding these and other dangers, metaphors are essential tools, needed for our survival in an environment that is not always user friendly. They constitute repertories of past (and sometimes forgotten) human understanding and experiences, and thus provide us with a critical understanding of ‘new’ ideas that, from an ecological point of view, may turn out to be variants of old ones. Conversely, it may also happen that, precisely because they embody ‘old’ understanding, metaphors form a hindrance to our understanding of current affairs, both on the societal and the personal level. As to the overall human environment, including the interpersonal and ecological relations that we entertain, often preeminently, by way of metaphors, it may be the case that my metaphor does not ‘match’ the metaphors my interlocutors are using, such that mutual understanding collapses. Clearly, this happens when the ‘basis’ (or ‘ground’) of a metaphor has shifted. As an instance, consider all the metaphors that have to do with the way we perceive nature, both animals, plants, and the lifeless world. The ‘bear’ in the expression ‘a bear market’ typically refers to bears’ custom of ‘waiting out’ winter by going into hibernation; so, metaphorically, a ‘bear market’ connotes a time when investors ‘wait out’ an economic slump, with shares tumbling down on the Dow Jones and other indexes. But bears also exhibit other ecological aspects: they are big and aggressive, oversized animals, so that a ‘bear hug’ can be either comforting or awkward, and even dangerous. In Danish, there is the expression en bjørnetjeneste (literally, ‘a bear service’) that used to signify ‘a service performed, perhaps with the best of intentions, by an awkward friend or colleague, which turns out to be a disaster for the benefitted’; the bear’s reportedly clumsy appearance and presumed blustering outside activities form the basis for the metaphor. By contrast, in more recent times I have noticed how the metaphor, especially in the speech of younger generations, has come to connote ‘a help of truly high quality and importance’; here, the bear’s property of being huge, compared to us humans, forms the metaphoric point of departure, and as such, this figure of speech is not too helpful in explaining the world cross-generationally. In general, metaphoric expressions, whether positive or negative with respect to their ecological origin and force (think survival vs. danger) are ways of thinking and speaking that not only reflect, but also influence, our common social praxis. Their recognition as metaphors has made them into acceptable means of dealing with the world, but our preexisting limits of place and time, including ecological conditions that reach both back into the 213
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(known) past and extend into the unknown future, determine and limit their availability and usefulness.
Metaphors and Ecology Thoughts such as the ones earlier are not simply a matter of ‘rhetorical imagination’ or poetic belief. Researchers in various fields have begun to see the import of metaphorical thought as the key to understanding our universe, and as a means of dealing with it in our ecological praxis. As early as the late eighties of the past century, the Australian political scientist and futurologist Anthony J. N. Judge wrote some thoughtful (but unfortunately not widely acknowledged) pieces on ‘incommensurable concepts’ and their comprehension through metaphor (Judge, 1988, 1990). Judge draws our attention to the multifarious uses of metaphor in different cultures and to the ways that such ‘congealed’ forms of thinking are relevant to mutual understanding. Almost prophetically, he speaks of a ‘metaphoric revolution,’ by which he means a new openness to the diversity of beliefs and belief systems prevalent among the world’s peoples and communities. Rather than forcing everybody to behave and think identically, we should open ourselves to what he calls an “epistemological diaspora” (Judge, 1988: 2), represented by the individual, people- and community-oriented metaphorical systems. With regard to the linguistic aspects, rather than having to express oneself in one particular language (in the context, this usually is English), one should allow for a diversity of linguistically oriented conceptualizations. In Judge’s view, a situation in which concepts cannot be considered meaningful unless they be articulated clearly in one particular language (usually English), is “unhealthy and intolerable from the point of view of international collaboration and mutual respect,” and, I add, from that of ecology. The negative result of such an attitude is (or should I say: has been?) that the majority of the world’s people are in principle underprivileged: not only because they do not have the ‘international’ language (in case: English) as their mother tongue, but in addition because at best, the way they perceive the world in its metaphorical reality is not considered valuable and valid by the dominant speakers; at worst, because their reality is declared a nonworld by the others, inasmuch as it is deemed to pertain to the sphere of ignorance and superstition ‒ of ‘funny beliefs,’ as they often are called. In extreme cases, even such material gestures as paying for services and goods in the ‘exotic’ local currency can become a problem ‒ not only because of the underprivileged society’s nonconvertible funds or their bad exchange rate, but on account of the dominant culture’s metaphorical belief in one currency (of course, their own!) as the mythical standard against which to measure everything else.2 Although we thus must firmly oppose any kind of conceptual or linguistic ‘imperialism,’3 we should also be careful not to attribute too much saving grace to its opposite, the ‘epistemological diaspora.’ On the one hand, the advantage of using a diversified metaphorical ‘vocabulary’ is that it makes it easier to identify with people across cultures and geographical distance and encourage them to “select, adapt or design their own conceptual frameworks and manner of perceiving their environment as well as their own way of comprehending and communicating about their action on it” (Judge, 1988: 3). On the other hand, there is the risk of such accommodation in the end being offset by a wish to promote one’s own worldviews (unconsciously held to be superior to those of the ‘natives’), with its attendant concepts of political and cultural hegemony, only in a more effective guise: ecological problems of communication, survival and co-existence are now metaphorically manipulated, rather than being obliterated through ham-fisted governance. Most importantly, however, the question remains who has the right to define which problems are most urgent and interesting in a 214
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global perspective, and need immediate attention. I will come back to this matter in the next section.
The Dilemma of Ecological Metaphoring Metaphors are often chosen to assist us in bringing together a variety of divergent approaches for solving the world’s (or a country’s) problems. When then-Soviet leader Mikhail Gorbachev launched his famous metaphor of glasnost’ (‘transparency’) in domestic affairs, along with his incomparable metaphoric reference to Europe as our ‘common house,’ everybody was taken by these seemingly simple ‘solutions’ to the most vexing issues of the day: democracy for Russia, and peaceful coexistence among the nations of Europe, regardless of their political orientation. Nevertheless, the sad facts are that in the end, the net result of this successful metaphoring was, for ‘Gorby,’ a Nobel Prize; as for peaceful coexistence in the former Yugoslavia and other places, that went the way of all wars, serving as a useful reminder that there are limits to what even a ‘good’ metaphor can do. Successful ecological metaphors, in particular, are prone to having inherent problems. Anthony Judge (1988) provides a good illustration here. The seasonal metaphor he has selected to explain the political processes characteristic of many Western(ized) democracies is based on a common natural event: the change of the seasons and the limits it imposes on us as users. “In nature, growth has its seasons,” he says, implying that normally, one cannot grow strawberries in January; the ones you buy in the supermarket during the winter season all are ecologically ‘impaired,’ either due to the way they are produced or because of the environmental cost involved in their transportation (not even mentioning the disastrous side effects they have on our taste buds). Moreover, it is essential for the health of the soil that one does not cultivate the same crop in the same location for an excessive length of time; ‘crop rotation’ is essential for proper use of the soil. Judge sums up his metaphorical position as follows: There is a striking parallel between the rotation of crops and the succession of (governmental) policies applied in a society. The contrast is also striking because of the essentially haphazard switch between “right” and “left” policies. There is little explicit awareness of the need for any rotation to correct for negative consequences (“pests”) encouraged by each and to replenish the resources of society (“nutrients,” “soil structure”) which each policy so characteristically depletes. (Judge, 1988: 38) According to this basic ecological metaphor, policymaking is just like farming. In policymaking (which is the ‘tenor’ or ‘target’ of the metaphor), one has to operate a shift (as in farming, the metaphor’s ‘vehicle’). In real farming, the shift is between different crops, so as to maintain the soil healthy and to guarantee optimal yield. In earlier times, by practicing field rotation, farmers let one third of their fields lie fallow each year; in addition, by planting different crops, each with their typical flora and fauna of weeds and pests and natural friends and enemies, they managed to maintain a healthy balance between their economic needs and wants and the ecological limitations that nature imposed on them. Such a crop rotation should not be haphazard, but calculated in accordance with what we know about each crop’s typical features and the particular structure of each patch of soil. This analogy is then applied to the case of political governance and policy-making. Just as monocultural exploitation is the root of all evil in modern farming, so is the unchecked 215
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domination of any political system in the governance of nations. In both cases, the lack of alternatives ends up ruining the system itself (including the agricultural or political ecology). When voters are either confronted with single party systems or are frustrated by the lack of real choice between the alternatives offered (as between Democrats vs. Republicans in the United States), they tend towards an apathetic state of mind, evidenced by low voter turnout (think of the United States with its two-party system and a maximal voter participation of around 50% in most elections, local or national). So, rather than let ourselves be frustrated by the seemingly haphazard changes in policymaking that come with democracy in its Western or Westernized forms, even when it is at its best, we should realize that the very idea of democracy depends on a system like that of ‘rotation’ and ‘changing crops,’ by which the different political parties take turns in being leading, without any of them becoming too powerful for too long a period at a time. In this way, the voters’ interest in keeping the system (the ‘soil’) healthy is intimately bound up with this rotation of ‘crops’ and ‘fields’ (the political parties and their turns at governance).
The Problem of the Ecological Metaphor As outlined here, the ‘crop rotation’ metaphor, despite its immediately alluring perspective, suffers from some grave inherent problems. Equating a change in policies between ‘left’ and ‘left-leaning,’ as opposed to policies on the ‘right’ is a gross simplification, if ‘left’ is identified with foresight and planning, whereas the ‘right’ sticks to ‘essentially haphazard’ crop rotation.4 This interpretation of the metaphor leaves out the content of the policies in question and the strong cultural and historical biases that are inherent in the metaphor’s ‘ground.’ In politics, we are not dealing with ‘haphazard’ crop rotation (as if there actually were such a choice in the agricultural business). Rotations and choices of policies are subordinated to some larger political mechanisms which, at the end of the day (and rather indirectly in most of the cases), also determine the actual choice of a crop (think of the illegal ‘cash crops,’ such as opium or marijuana in many underdeveloped countries, and how they are part and parcel of the international system of drug traffic and drug abuse). In other words, even if the political situation described is real, the explanation using a simple ecological metaphor does not hold. We may not be sure what kinds of rotational schemes and crop cycles would potentially be most useful for world governance and prosperity, but one thing is clear: without a working rotation and an advance planning of which crops to cultivate, there is no way one could satisfy even the most ordinary demands of the market. Moreover, in politics ’left’ and ‘right’ are not simple, black-and-white alternatives; neither do they represent points on a scale equidistant from some postulated, neutral origin.5 In politics, ‘left’ is usually associated with planning, right with the so-called ‘free forces’ of the market. But what is euphemistically called ‘free enterprise’ is in reality more like a freefor-all anarchy that does not deserve the badge ‘social’ which politicians have tried to pin on the notion of ‘market’ in order to make it more acceptable to the people suffering from its antisocial anarchy. As to our ecological metaphor of crop rotation, it becomes immediately evident that such a rotation presupposes intensive professional planning; to unleash the ‘free market forces’ on agriculture has already led to some major catastrophic developments (think of the use of pesticides and its major, widely published recent effect on the ecology, as manifested by the phenomenon of massive death of honeybees world- wide). The free market forces are supposed to exert their beneficial influence for the common good, so that the economy, free from all outside interference and completely deregulated, is able to find its ‘natural’ balance, with ‘ecology’ often being supplanted by ‘sustainability.’ 216
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Here, unfortunately, it is not clear what is sustained, and who does the ‘sustaining,’ nor for which purposes; actually, the term nowadays connotes more an entrepreneurial choice of policy, geared to the avoidance of business losses and the optimization of industrial output without depleting the scarce resources the Earth has to offer. More generally in world politics, we used to be accustomed to an ongoing struggle between two powerful systems of societal organization, one capitalist, the other socialist. Now that the former unilaterally has declared the latter for ‘dead on the scene’ (with a few notorious and regrettable exceptions), the metaphor may kick in again to predict an ‘alternation,’ with different competing ‘crops’ entering the ‘field.’ Such a radical ‘rotation,’ if it were to be put in motion, could quite possibly mark the end of the entire ecosystem as we know it: an ‘alternation’ provoking another global war would eventually turn out to be a Pyrrhic victory of the surviving system, with irreversible damage done to the entire globe. Unfortunately, rather than limiting the scene to a benign rotation or ‘alternation’ in policy, that is, a democratic, voter-supported ‘change of the guard,’ what we could be witnessing is a contest between those who are willing to sacrifice everything for profit or ideology and those who have at least retained a modicum of respect for the scarce resources on our planet and realize that in order to safeguard those essential reserves, we have to do some serious, mutually agreed on and ecologically sound planning.
On Planning and its Discontents A planned economy, however, in the eyes of the right, is a leftist, even socialist idea; conversely, the freedom preached by the right signals pure anarchy to the left. Observe here that it takes a lot of stamina for a current U.S. presidential candidate to declare himself a ‘socialist,’ like the U.S. Senator from Vermont, Bernie Sanders, has done on many occasions (albeit with the addition of the mitigating epithet ‘democratic’). Employing what is essentially a tabooed expression in U.S. political discourse may turn out to have been an unforgivable political misstep; it remains to be seen to what extent his choice of wording may have damaged Bernie’s prospects in the upcoming elections. Whereas left and right indeed do struggle, we cannot possibly envision this contest as a simple case of ‘crop rotation,’ one alternative replacing the other, to be replaced again by the first, and so on ad infinitum. The limited resources of our finite world do not allow for any ‘infinity’; which is why the crop metaphor, in addition to being inaccurate, in principle never can provide us with an effective and complete solution to the current problems of over-production and under-employment in various parts of the world. What we see instead is that every time the ‘right’ gains the upper hand, its destructive forces push back—often by appealing to lofty principles of ‘freedom’ and ‘growth’—the ecological gains obtained by the ‘left.’ The following is a recent instance. On October 9, 2015, the U.S. Court of Appeals for the Sixth Circuit stayed the ‘Clean Water Rule’ nationwide (following appeals by the industrial lobby, claiming that ‘more study was needed’), thereby suspending and virtually voiding the Environmental Protection Agency, EPA’s mandate to provide access to clean water for everybody in the United States. Now, every time a similar ‘victory’ for the industry is announced, we take one further small step towards the self-destruction of the planet, if only by the simple depletion of its natural resources like ‘clean water’ —not even taking into account the collateral damage, the ‘accidental’ destruction of nature in the wake of environmental accidents such as the BP 2010 Deep Horizon oil rig explosion in the Gulf of Mexico or TEPCO’s (Tokyo Electric Power Company) 2011 Fukushima Dai-ichi nuclear plant’s meltdown in Tohoku 217
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prefecture, Japan, come to mind; in addition, there is the ecological damage done willfully by terrorist groups). Another ‘pie-in-the-sky’ freedom metaphor is currently circulating in the discourse of deregulating international commerce by means of ‘free trade’ arrangements which in the end will deal a death blow to many local ecological industries and ventures, in the name of facilitating international cooperation at the superordinate levels of importing and exporting goods and services. Such arrangements (like the recently concluded Pacific Free Trade Agreement, PFTA, hailed by President Obama as a major step towards international solidarity) are dangled in front of our gullible noses by the optimistic advocates of full free-trade agreements, while we are not aware of the fact that such pseudo-ecological carrots of the free market may soon turn into ashes in our mouths. Thus, we see how ecological metaphors like ‘seasonal change,’ ‘free (deregulated) flow,’ etc., when not properly analyzed, do more damage than gain, inasmuch as they are based on, respectively entail, a wrong conception of important ecological issues. The lesson to take home here is that in principle, metaphors are always dangerous when not ‘contextualized,’ i.e., placed within their proper situations of use, and continuously checked with regard to its applicability in the current context of the ‘target.’ It would, however, be wrong to assume that the only problem here is the wrong or unreflected use of such metaphors: as we will see in the next section, the very notion of ‘problem’ is (part of) the problem(s), unless considered in an ecological context—‘ecology’ taken in its original sense of ‘keeping order in one’s house and household.’6
‘Being Thrown’: “What’s in a Problem?” The title of this section may be a take-off on Juliet’s old question (“What’s in a name?” from Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet, II, 2), but it is not for that reason easier to answer. The problem is that the term ‘problem’ itself represents a hidden metaphor. That which is seen as a problem, includes always somebody who does the seeing: either the original ‘seer,’ the person who ‘puts’ the matter in question ‘before’ us (as the Greek verb pro-bállo, lit. ‘I throw in front,’ seems to indicate), or the subsequent co-seers,’ who agree that there indeed is something ‘thrown in front’ of them, something worthy of being looked at, something ‘to see.’7 Taken by itself, the fact that the concept of ‘problem’ embodies a metaphor need not bother us; however, its ramifications and consequences of this embodiment are far-reaching. They can be subsumed under a single question, namely: “Whose problem are we talking about when we ‘see’ a problem?” Problems do not exist in the rarified air of philosophers and mathematicians only, nor do they wander around like stray puppies looking for some prospective ‘seer’ or sponsor. If we want to know what a problem really is about, we have to focus on those to whom the problem rightfully belongs: the people suffering from the lack of ‘seeing’ on the part of the official ‘overseers.’ Here, I’m not just talking about establishing some world catalogue of problems in terms of which particular organizations have defined them: a purely descriptive approach (‘seeing’ only) does not do justice to the people having a problem. Even though an enumerative procedure can be useful as a first step towards identifying what we are dealing with (as in the Encyclopedia of World Problems and Human Potential, actually an existing source book published by the Union of International Organisations in Brussels; see Judge, 1988: 26), we need to probe deeper. The metaphoric value of being a ‘pro-blem’ is precisely in its being ‘thrown,’ to use a familiar term from Heideggerian parlance. This ‘thrown-ness’ is not a 218
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simple, transparent affair; it is (if you will allow me) ‘problematic,’ inasmuch as it needs to be defined pragmatically, in its situation of use, by and for human users. Consequently, problems look (and are!) different, depending on users and contexts of use. As Donald Schön once insightfully remarked with respect to constructing metaphors for ‘problem setting’ (rather than just ‘problem finding’ or even ‘solving’), “[t]hings are selected for attention and named in such a way as to fit the frame constructed for the situation” (Schön, 1994: 146)—that is, in building metaphors, we rely on our ways of seeing things. In other words, metaphors are “generative” (Schön, 1994: 146; no connection intended with Chomskyan ‘generativity’!). The next section will offer some examples to illustrate my point.
Of Terrorists and Peoples Terrorism is one of the plagues that beset our modern, affluent society. In its various forms, such as kidnapping, hijacking, or even outright armed attacks on private, corporate and governmental bodies, terrorism indeed has become a problem, to be dealt with and solved somehow, preferably on the international level, where countries with the widest possible diverging interests, like the United States, Russia and France see fit to put aside their differences and join in common operations of ‘search-and-destroy’ the perpetrators of terrorist acts. (Recently, as of November 17, 2015, France and Russia have been reported to have initiated bilateral policies to this effect). Recall that earlier, I said that problems always are problems for people, and not mere abstract conundrums. Applying this to the problem of terrorism, one might want to ask whose problem we are looking at when we talk about ‘us’ in an age of terrorism, with ‘our’ society continuously being under its threat. Globally, with a world population projected to pass nine billion by the end of the century, we might ask how many of the world’s people are (directly or indirectly, in personally noticeable ways) affected by it. For instance, my guess would be that not too high a percentage of the 1.2 billion Indians in their lifetimes will be killed, or otherwise be directly affected, by terrorism, even if attacks like the Mumbai ones, five years ago this month of November, in addition to leaving hundreds of dead and wounded, clearly have had a strong impact on public sentiment in the country. Similarly, if we take one minor, but spectacular form of terrorism, viz. airline hijacking or other airborne terrorist acts, as particular instance of the ‘problem,’ the percentage of individuals directly affected is again infinitesimally small, compared to the total world population. Airline terrorism affects, by definition, just those people that have enough money, and enjoy sufficient personal freedom (including leisure), to be able to board a plane, either for business, pleasure or other reasons; the vast majority of the people living on the planet will never even see the inside of a plane. The problem can be described in different ways: in terms of global air security, in terms of the individual travelers’ personal safety and integrity, in terms of waste of material resources (the incidental costs of even an unsuccessful airplane hijacking being extremely high), or even in terms of preventing a major breakdown in international relations, subsidiarily a takeover of territory by some fanatic fundamentalists like those running ISIS. There is no doubt that, however we choose to describe it, airline hijacking and air terrorism in general are urgent problems, both on the societal and the personal level. However, if we ask ourselves the candid question why we feel so strongly about the attacks in Paris (both the ‘Charlie Hebdo’ case in January 2015, and later, in November 2015, the horrendous killings at various places of entertainment, where ‘innocent bystanders’ were 219
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mowed down by ruthless gunmen); or if we ask why we are taken by the terrible fate of the nearly three hundred people that went down with their Russian plane in the Sinai desert as the result of a terrorist bomb planted in the plane’s body, the only way to answer that question is with another one, bringing up the same old query: Whose problems are we talking about? Clearly, we identify with those ‘innocent bystanders’ in the international conflict called ‘the war on terror’: we could have been those people, we could have been in their places and we could have been mutilated or dead; or we could have children, relatives, or friends that were the innocent victims of the attacks. We identify with the victims of terrorism because they are ‘us,’ in a way, and we are ‘them’: Je suis Charlie, as the French proudly announced to the world after the attack on a publication that not even all of the French approved of, or were familiar with, prior to the event. Notice that what is at issue here is not just the violent death of some tens, scores or even hundreds and thousands of innocent people. That, in itself, is not a ‘problem’ for all of the billions of earthlings who are accustomed to war scenes and genocidal killings in Asia and Africa, who have routinely been reading about, or viewing, people in Bangladesh drowning by the tens of thousands; the inhabitants of certain regions of Uganda being decimated to the tune of hundreds of thousands a year. More recently, we have been witnessing the chaotic migration of tens of thousands of refugees migrating to our shores under terrible conditions, with many risking or losing their very lives while trying to move to better living conditions. Yet, the same indignant U.S. newscasters that report on the latest piece of airline terrorism seem unruffled by the fact that the routine murdering over the past 50+ years of hundreds and thousands of Meso-American Latin and Native campesinos, civil rights protesters, journalists and other independent intellectuals and students not only was condoned, but aided and abetted by many of the same humanitarian and enlightened people who vocally protest genocide when it occurs in other, more remote places, like Uganda or Burundi. Clearly, the well-being of native populations and their human rights advocates is not an item on an agenda which prioritizes combating local subversive intellectuals or Indigenous independence fighters. Which brings us back to our original suspicion that the real question is not about dead peasants in Central America, or internecine tribal warfare in Africa, nor even about rampant crime in our own backyards; it has to do with establishing some monopolistic metaphoric ‘empire’ in the shape of a free trade treaty for an entire region, as well as with the punishment or elimination of some rebellious politicians that stand in the way of ‘freedom’ and ‘progress.’ Dealing with people’s real problems in terms of metaphors is, of course, not the same as solving them; but (harking back to our earlier theme) one can, of course, govern people this way by collapsing metaphor and reality. The danger of ‘governance through metaphor’ (Judge, 1988: 15 ff.) is that we risk selling our way of viewing the world to the less fortunate and less cultured by relying on the universality of the process of ‘problem perception.’ This is, of course, exactly the opposite of what people like Judge wanted to achieve by introducing the notion of an ‘epistemological diaspora,’ in which all approaches to problems are judged to be equally justified. However, disregarding the facts of life, in particular the way the problems are seen by those suffering from them, as opposed to the way they are defined by those in power (be they presidents of nations or local chiefs of police in the remote Guatemalan highlands), means exposing oneself to the charge of criminal manipulation in the guise of governance. Replacing necessary social changes by some vague notion of a universal adoption of comprehensive metaphors like ‘freedom of trade,’ ‘democratic nation
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building,’ or ‘the war on drugs’ is pulling the wool over people’s eyes, and in the best case, no more than pie-in-the-sky. Answering the (rhetorical?) question whether it is possible to consider social transformation as essentially a matter of offering people “richer and more meaningful metaphors through which to live, act and empower themselves” (Judge, 1988: 14), one should maintain that if indeed such a transformation is possible, it certainly will not be a social transformation, inasmuch as it bases itself on a stunted concept of metaphor and a poor understanding of the problems implied in our local metaphorical discourses, however ecologically oriented.
The Limits of Ecology and Metaphor: Consensus Needed There are, in this world of ours, more problems than resources. Perceiving those problems may be a necessary condition in order to start solving them, but it is by no means a sufficient one. Metaphors such as the ones discussed earlier, may help us to see the problems more clearly (and relate them to a broader context than the ‘here-and-now’ of most current policies), but no ‘metaphoric revolution’ will by itself bring about additional resources; neither will it change, by itself, the present skewed and unecological distribution of the existent means. The only way to achieve a change towards a more ecologically oriented system of production, distribution, and consumption is for the richer nations to renounce on some of their privileges, and accept the fact that if there is going to be a new, fairer deal worldwide, and if we are to survive as a species on Earth (and not on Mars or in some other modern version of literal ‘pie-in-the-sky’), this implies in its turn that everybody on the planet will have to pay their share; this may involve real, not just metaphorical, sacrifices on the individual and the collective level. Whether we call this final perspective a ‘social revolution’ or ‘sustained (ecological) development’ is not just a matter of taste, but of choosing, and putting to work, the right ecological metaphors. However, no matter which metaphor we choose to facilitate our thinking and decisionmaking, we will always run up against what Gregory Bateson has called a ‘double bind.’ If demands are made which we cannot possibly honor, the result will be apathy, and in the worst case scenario, a state of schizophrenia. When it comes to social transformation or social experiments that do not take into account the conditions that govern the human limits imposed on such experiments and transformations, we definitely place a double bind on citizens and politicians alike. On the one hand, the demands for distribution of goods exceed the available resources. Sustainability will not be sufficient by itself (even if practiced with the right mindset by conserving resources rather than merely exploiting them more efficiently); we still face a deficit of resources, along with a gross inequality in assigning them in a world-wide economy—think of the famous (or rather, infamous) U.S. discussions on the ‘1%’ and its uniquely privileged access to goods and services. The consensus that would be needed to limit, and eventually eliminate, these anti-ecological excesses is blocked by the very persons who determine the ‘slice of the pie’ that everybody is entitled to; a consensus based on the ‘pie metaphor’ will necessarily and always lead us into the double bind trap. Given that we cannot indefinitely consume our natural resources, and that even with a more equitable distribution, the problem of scarcity will not go away, the only path forward is to establish a consensus that will give everybody a fair share in deciding on, and putting to work, the necessary measures needed to ‘save the planet,’ understood as literally halting
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the total destruction of the environment that looms ahead. Here, the metaphors involved in what earlier was dubbed the ‘epistemological diaspora’ could be of limited help. I mentioned a few of these potentially ‘diasporical’ metaphors (like the ‘common house,’ ‘transparency,’ ‘sustainability,’ and so on), but they were all culled from the western inventory of thought, compiled over the centuries in what could appropriately be called a ‘monoculture’ of concepts. In actual fact, there are many other ways of figuring out how to deal with nature, but such more ecologically oriented epistemologies have not yet been fully accepted, let alone mined for their full potential, by people who are wont to think in terms of ‘pies to be sliced,’ or ‘forces to be tamed.’ Metaphors are not exclusively instruments ‘we live by,’ as Lakoff and Johnson (1980) have it; they are also, and more importantly, tools we live through, and create a life by—resources that make it possible to see problems in a different light, which is the first condition for solving them. However, as I said earlier, merely ‘seeing’ a problem is not enough; but to act upon it and try to solve it presupposes a willingness to undertake action and suffer some discomfort in the process. Realistically, such a willingness will only emerge when the situation becomes so dire that the actual current discomfort cancels out the perceived difficulties involved in making the hard decisions that will be needed to save the environment. In other words, as the saying goes, it will have to become a lot worse before it is going to get any better. But once we perceive that common, real threat, it will be easier to build a consensus around ‘What is to be done?’ in the over a century-old formulation, due to a revolutionary who never saw his solution made truly viable and whose thoughts were enshrined in a failed compound of unsustainable policies and ecological disasters.
Notes 1 Interestingly, there are languages in which the words for ‘explore’ and ‘exploit’ coincide: the Brazilian Portuguese explorar does not distinguish between the two concepts. Food for thought, maybe? 2 In the good old days of the Gold Standard, this used to be gold itself, or its fictitious representative, the ‘gold franc.’ In our own times, when we ask the notorious question, say, in Mexico (or some other ‘underdeveloped’ country): “And tell me now how much that is in real money?,” we are not always prepared for the strong reactions on the part of the ‘natives’; neither are we willing to examine our own unreflected presuppositions about what is ‘real’ about (our) money. 3 On ‘linguistic imperialism’, see Phillipson (2008); compare also Mey (1985, 1989). 4 To avoid any misunderstanding, ‘right’ and ‘left’ are here primarily used to denote economic, not political doctrines. That means, among other things, that planning is not good simply because it is planning: as the Brundtland report (1987) admonishes us, we need good, that is global, planning. Local deregulation in capitalism can have just as bad effects as does the wholesale (re-)introduction of capitalist market principles into a historically differently oriented economic system. 5 As the Azerbaijan scholar Azad Mammadov remarks, “the American political discourse is more complicated in this regard, as it reflects fundamental differences between the existing g major political forces, and not only in terms of right vs. left or conservative vs. liberals. The recent financial crisis has added new images to these differences, as reflected in the discourses of the presidential candidates in the 2008 elections. As the financial leadership, metonymically referred to as ‘Wall Street’, attracted much criticism for the financial crisis, oppositions such as Wall Street—Main Street became very common in the American political discourse.” (2010: 81) 6 “Holde orden i sitt hus og hjem,” as a popular Norwegian expression has it. 7 With all the precautions that are in order when invoking the ‘original’ meaning of an expression (which not necessarily or always is the etymological one).
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References Brundtland Report (1987), Our Common Future. Paris: UNESCO, World Commission on Environment and Development. Herdan, G. (1956), Language as Choice and Chance. Groningen: Noordhoff. Judge, A. J. N. (1988, September), ‘Recording of networks of incommensurable concepts in phased cycles— and their comprehension through metaphor’. International Symposium on Models of Meaning, Varna, Bulgaria. Brussels: Union of lnternational Organisations. Judge, A. J. N. (1990), ‘Recontextualizing social problems through metaphor: Transcending the “Switch” metaphor’, Revue belge de philologie et d’histoire, 68(3): 531–547. Lakoff, G. and Johnson, M. (1980), Metaphors We Live By. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Mammadov, A. (2010), ‘Metaphors in the American and Russian political discourse’, RASK, International Journal of Language and Linguistics, 31: 69–88. Mey, J. L. (1985), Whose Language? A Study in Linguistic Pragmatics. Amsterdam and Philadelphia: John Benjamins. Mey, J. L. (1989), ‘ “Saying It Don’t Make It So”: The Una Grande Libre of language politics’, Multilingua, 8(4): 333–356. Mey, J. L. (ed.) (2008), Concise Encyclopedia of Pragmatics. 2nd edition. Oxford: Elsevier. Phillipson, R. (2008), ‘Linguistic imperialism’, in J. L. Mey (ed.), pp. 780–782. Schön, D. (1994), ‘Generative metaphor and social policy’, in A. Ortony (ed.), Metaphor and Thought. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, pp. 254–283.
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II. B. How Environmental Topics Appear in Texts and in the Media: Ecological and Unecological Discourse
15 Lexicogrammar and Ecolinguistics Andrew Goatly
Introduction In L’homme de paroles (Hagège, 1985: 146ff.), Hagège referred to l’écolinguistique as the (future) study of how ‘natural’ phenomena, like topographical characteristics, relations between humans, other organisms and cosmic phenomena, are integrated into languages and cultures. This chapter concerns the role of the grammar (and vocabulary) of languages in mediating between humans and ‘natural phenomena.’ The relation between lexicogrammar and ‘natural phenomena’ can be conceived in various ways: (1) the lexicogrammar of a particular language affects our perception of and action on the environment; (2) our natural environment affects lexicogrammar; (3) lexicogrammar and the environment are in a dynamic relationship mutually affecting each other as interdependent systems which change over time as part of a culture. This chapter will mainly concentrate on conception (1). Conception (2) may emerge if one considers how environmental problems or crises force a more or less adequate linguistic response. Conception (3) is the most complex conception and probably the ideal (Bang et al., 2007; Fill, 2010: 177), but space constraints preclude detailed treatment, especially as many cultures are bilingual, necessitating an account of the symbolic ‘ecology’ (Steffensen and Fill, 2014) of how languages adapt to the ‘environment’ of other languages. Nevertheless, for a taste of conception (3) we can refer to Peter Mühlhäusler’s canonical text Linguistic Ecology (Mühlhäusler, 1996). One thrust of this book is that the interdependence of language and the environment can be demonstrated by the correlation between the disappearance of languages and destruction of the environment. These disappearances are in turn related to economic and political imperialism and colonization, which have transformed the language ecology. For example, colonization of Fiji has led to the dominance of English. Quoting Milner (1984), Mühlhäusler makes the point that many Fijian speakers do not know the names of some of the more common animals and plants of their country, and if they can identify them only know their English names. Loss of a vocabulary for flora and fauna may mean that a loss of species goes unnoticed. Contrast this with precolonization Aboriginal cultures of the Pacific and Australia:
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The natural environment of Australia and the Pacific, as anywhere, is complex and not open to simple direct observation. It took many years to build up knowledge of the places, climatic patterns, plants and animals that shared this environment with its human inhabitants. Such knowledge enabled the majority of the region’s inhabitants to adapt their language to the natural resources provided to enable them to survive over long periods of time . . . Australian aborigines, for instance have been able to survive for more than 50,000 years whilst 200 years of European colonisation of the continent has caused changes of an order of magnitude (e.g. to the topsoil, forests and waterways) that threaten the survival of Australia’s inhabitants in only a few generations. (Mühlhäusler, 1996: 298) The correlation between language diversity and biodiversity, or language loss and species loss, has more recently been explored by Loh and Harmon (2014). (See also Chapter 1, this volume.) Let’s return to the question of how the lexicogrammar of a particular language affects our perception of and action on the environment. Most work on lexicogrammar and ecology assumes some version of the Sapir-Whorf hypothesis. This states that our worldview is shaped by the language we speak or by the choices available to us in that language. A language imposes on us a worldview making it easier to conceptualize our experience in one way rather than others. To quote Benjamin Lee Whorf, commenting on his study of Native American languages: It was found that the background linguistic system (in other words the grammar) of each language is not merely a reproducing instrument for voicing our ideas but rather is itself the shaper of ideas, the program and guide for the individual’s mental activity, for his analysis of impressions, for his synthesis of his mental stock in trade. Formulation of ideas is not an independent process, strictly rational in the old sense, but is a part of particular grammar, and differs, from slightly to greatly, between different grammars. We dissect nature along lines laid down by our native languages. The categories and types we isolate from the world of phenomena we do not find there because they stare every observer in the face; on the contrary the world is presented in a kaleidoscopic flux of impressions which has to be organised by our minds—and this means largely by the linguistic systems in our minds. We cut nature up, organize it into concepts, and ascribe significances as we do, largely because we are parties to an agreement to organize it in this way—an agreement that holds throughout our speech community and is codified in the patterns of our language. (Whorf, 1956: 212–214) Unless we are bilingual, or exceptionally attuned to the lexicogrammatical choices in our language, we likely accept the ordering of experience imposed on us by language as natural and commonsense. Ideologies determined by the lexicogrammar, such as anthropocentrism or the domination of nature by humans, might remain latent or undetected. However, the degrees of latency vary. We might rank the degrees of latency in the lexicogrammatical phenomena explored in this chapter as in Table 15.1. This chapter will concentrate on level 6, but let’s briefly consider categories 1 to 5.
Lexis and Ideology At level 1, original metaphors such as ‘cancer’ for growth, foreground themselves by their originality, in contrast to conventional metaphors (level 4), like ‘center,’ which may well 228
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Table 15.1 Degrees of latency in lexis and grammar
1 2 3 4 5 6
Lexicogrammatical Category
Example
Latency
Original metaphors Disputed terms Affective lexis Conventional metaphors Literal lexis Syntactic-semantic patterns
Economic growth in mature economies is a cancer natural resources wasteground, pest, landfill urban centers fuel Traditionally, fishermen caught 100,000 tons of fish a year in the North Sea
Blatant
Latent
pass unremarked. In this example the implication of the original metaphor is that just as cancerous growth in a human body threatens the vital organs, so economic growth in a mature economy threatens the environment on which species depend for existence. Notice, too, that this metaphor effects a switch in affective polarity between growth (normally positive) (Halliday, 2001: 193) and cancer (always negative), which relates to level 3. Metaphors which have become relatively conventional can be revitalized into original ones, moving from level 4 to 1, as when, in the following passage ‘web of life’ is repacked, revitalized and elaborated into ‘tapestry’: Like a child tugging threads from some enormous piece of tapestry, we continue to tear at the web of life with little if any knowledge of the possible impact. Perhaps those who dug limestone out of the caves near Kuala Lumpur and reclaimed land from the swamps up to 40 km away realized that they were destroying the roosting sites and feeding grounds of a bat, Eoynycteris Spelaea. But there was one thing they did not know: this single bat species is responsible for pollinating one of Southeast Asia’s most highly prized fruit crops, derived from the durian tree. The annual durian crop, worth some $120 million, is now at risk. (Myers, 1995: 155) (For interesting analyses of metaphors in the discourse on biodiversity see Stibbe and Zunino, 2008; Döring and Zunino, 2013). The cancer metaphor is an attempt to dispute the desirability of growth, which brings us to a discussion of level 2. Quite ordinary literal lexis at level 5 and conventional metaphors at level 4 can be brought under the ideological spotlight by being contested or disputed, just as terms like ‘chairman’ were in feminist CDA. ‘Resources’ (Table 15.1) might be disputed by pointing out the anthropocentric position it implies, with ‘nature’ reduced to human use value. If such contestation is voiced (Schulz, 2001: 110), then latency is diminished and conventional metaphor and ordinary lexis promoted from levels 3 and 4. Because lexis is the aspect of lexicogrammar of which we are most aware, there is no shortage of examples of contested terms in environmental discourse. The word environment itself suggests not only the possibility of separating humans from nature but also the centrality and importance of humans compared with a marginalized or peripheral nature (for a summary of the debates see Rowe, 1989). Rachel Carson in Silent Spring disputes the term ‘pesticide,’ preferring ‘biocide’ because these chemicals threaten not just insects but other life forms. 229
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At level 3, lexis may sometimes give us a choice between three terms, one negative in affect, one positive, and one neutral as in the trio invasive, exotic, introduced species. Examples like ‘wasteground’ and ‘pest,’ often induce us to accept the negative evaluation. Perhaps the so-called pests are vital for maintaining an ecological balance, or are a keystone species, and should be viewed more positively, but then pest would not be an appropriate label. Wasteground is only wasted from a narrow perspective of direct human utility, as it may designate an area in which wild plants and flowers are free to grow and insects and small mammals to feed and breed (Fill, 2010: 177) (See Trampe, 2001 for a list of affective terms in agricultural discourse). Greenwash often makes use of positively affective terms like environmentally friendly or sustainable (Alexander, 2009: 99–106). The term ‘landfill’ in Table 15.1 is an example of euphemism, giving a positive affective spin to what might otherwise be called a rubbish dump. Another example would be referring to logging trees as harvest, implying they are like an annual crop and a just reward for past agricultural effort (Schulz, 2001: 111). At level 4, we note that metaphorical structuring has a profound ideological effect on cognition, culture and practice, an effect all the more powerful by being relatively latent (Goatly, 2007). Indeed, the standard metaphors affect the cognition and practice of environmental scientists (Larson, 2011: 5 and passim). The example in Table 15.1 recruits the conceptual metaphor IMPORTANT IS CENTRAL to encourage a mind-set which values the town above the countryside. In human geography, this has been theorized as the core– periphery model, in which the center becomes the ‘locus of control over the means of production,’ and ‘unequal exchange, the concentration of economic power, technical progress and productive activity at the core, and the emanation of productive innovations from the core, help to maintain the flow of surplus value from periphery to core’ (Lee, 2000: 116). In addition, the metaphor of an urban center or hub encourages population drift to the cities. In 1900 around 14% of the world’s population lived in urban areas, and only 12 cities had more than one million inhabitants. In 2000, some 47% of the world’s population lived in urban areas (about 2.8 billion), and 400 cities had more than 1 million people (Human Population: Fundamentals of Growth and Change, 2001). Mills (1982) explores how societies at different periods of Western history were guided in thought and action by dominant metaphors for nature. For the Middle Ages nature was a book written by God, for the Renaissance the macrocosm of nature was reflected analogically in the microcosm of the human body, and from the Enlightenment onwards nature was a machine, with the choice of machine—clock, steam engine, computer—reflecting the latest dominant technology. The machine metaphor might well be the most damaging environmentally, as it suggests that the individual parts of nature can be isolated and fixed or improved, and that just as humans make machines and so understand their workings so they can change and dominate a fully understood nature. These dominant metaphors are still reflected in lexis. For example, in English conventional metaphors in the dictionary indicate the strong cognitive influence of the Renaissance analogy, which might be labeled LANDSCAPE IS HUMAN BODY (Metalude, 2003). Personifying metaphors are commonly used for natural landscapes. The metaphors are often parts of the human body: head ‘upper part,’ fringe ‘edge of an area,’ crown/brow ‘summit,’ face ‘front slope of a hill or mountain,’ mouth either ‘estuary’ or ‘entrance to a cave,’ tongue ‘promontory,’ neck ‘isthmus,’ shoulder ‘more steeply inclined slope,’ arm/finger ‘promontory’ backbone/spine ‘central row of hills or mountains,’ heart ‘center,’ vein ‘narrow layer of mineral in rock,’ bowels ‘deep parts, recesses (of the earth),’ flank ‘edge or side of a hill or mountain’ and foot ‘lower part.’ 230
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Actions performed on the landscape or countryside are metaphorically actions performed on a human body. Some are violent, not environmentally friendly: gash ‘deep trench,’ scar ‘scrape the vegetation off,’ rape ‘environmental destruction.’ Others are more cosmetic: comb ‘search carefully,’ manicure ‘look after a garden and make it neat and tidy.’ Verbs which normally take humans/animals as subject can be applied to the landscape: lie, sit and stand can all mean ‘be situated or positioned.’ Besides standing, hills and mountains can lean ‘slope’ and dominate ‘tower above.’ Volcanoes can spew/belch ‘emit in large quantities.’ Adjectival present participles include sprawling ‘extending in an unplanned way,’ yawning/gaping ‘extremely wide.’ Adjectives describing the appearance of the body give us: bald/bare ‘without vegetation.’ This anthropomorphizing might imply a moral responsibility in our dealings with nature, e.g., ‘the rape of mother nature’ (Berman, 2001). More generally it suggests a blurring of the human–nature divide. However, Meisner, an environmentalist who has summarized the critical literature on dominant Western metaphors, sees this as reinforcing the human–nature duality rather than blurring it (Meisner, 1995). In a more nuanced way, Lovelock’s Gaia theory (Lovelock, 1986, 1988), which sees the Earth as a goddess, on the one hand personifies nature and thereby invokes a moral imperative not to mistreat it, but also stresses how powerful Gaia is compared with humans in her ability to outsurvive and to take revenge (Lovelock, 2007). This metaphor or myth runs counter to the prevalent metaphors stressing human control over nature as caretakers, managers, or stewards. At level 5, lexis which is not even conventionally metaphorical will go unnoticed, unless disputed. So, for example, referring to sugar cane as ‘fuel,’ not only marks it out as a resource for humans, but as one kind of resource rather than another, as energy rather than food. By imposing this category and sub-category the lexis makes the use of biofuel for human transportation accepted common-sense. Disposable nappies/diapers are not disposable at all in terms of the larger environment. Man-made fibers are actually dependent on the crude oil made by dying organisms. Fertilizers may in fact reduce fertility of the soil over time. The use of biodegradable suggests that the substance breaks down into harmless substances, whereas in fact the process and result of the breakdown may be toxic. Climate change as a nominalization of ‘the climate changes’ suggests that this is spontaneous, and humans may not be involved in causing it. However, besides these isolated examples lexis participates in oppositions, often binary, to structure our thinking on the ‘environment.’ For instance we oppose urban to rural, natural to artificial, organic to inorganic, and overlapping with the latter, animate to inanimate, etc. But how useful are these oppositions? Are city parks rural or urban, natural or artificial? Gaia theory, in particular thinks of the organic and inorganic, the living creatures and the minerals of the Earth’s crust as one indivisible superorganism, like the living skin and dead wood of a giant redwood tree (Lovelock, 1986). Particular discourses often set up new conceptual oppositions. For example, Vandana Shiva, in her BBC Reith Lecture in 2000, part of the series Respect for the Earth, sets up the opposition between value as market or value as sharing (Alexander, 2009: 120–124).
The Semantics of Syntax and Latent Ideology The most latent or hidden ideological effects reside at level 6, the grammatical level, the main focus of this chapter. Though speakers of a language have a metalanguage for lexis, words, vocabulary, they often have only a rudimentary understanding of grammar and lack a metalanguage for grammatical categories, so that the effects of grammar on ideology remain obscure. This is why there is no category of ‘disputed grammar’ in Table 15.1. 231
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Grammatical Entities, Things and Processes What can we say about these effects? One specific point is that the grammar of English distinguishes two kinds of entity: those that occur in units with clear boundaries, and are countable, and those that occur in the mass without boundaries and are uncountable. Now the noun fish can be either countable or uncountable, but if we say ‘Traditionally fishermen caught 100,000 tons of fish’ it is uncountable, which suggests an unbounded limitless resource. Though we know that fish as a resource are finite the grammar presents them as if the only restriction is our quantification of it: ‘100,000 tons’ (Halliday, 2001: 194). A general point is that Standard Average European languages divide events into Things (nouns) and Processes (verbs). Unless we speak a radically different language, like the Algonquin language Blackfoot, in which nouns are rare, we may be totally unaware of the way one language’s grammar structures our worldview differently from others. Compare, for example, the English That boy brought a chair with the Blackfoot equivalent (Leroy and Ryan, 2004: 38): iihpommaatooma anna saahkómaapiwa amoyi asóópa’tsisi iih
pommaat oom wa ann
by way transfer of
move ing that familiar
wa saahk oma a’pii wa amo
yi
a’s
opii a’tsis
ing young yet state ing this of near
ing become sit
yi
facilitate Ing
Blackfoot grammar represents the world as a system of interacting processes: in this example moving/transferring, being young, sitting, facilitating. It has been suggested that this grammar is better than European languages, in particular English, for expressing the ‘reality’ of quantum physics (Bohm, 1980, Goatly, 2007).
Canonical Event Structure, the Transitive Clause and Human Domination of Nature We might then ask what the semantics of English grammar has to do with human–nature relationships. Langacker, in his Foundations of Cognitive Grammar (1991), points out that the typical transitive clause representing a physical action corresponds to canonical event structure. This structure conceptualizes events in terms of one energetic thing (the Actor in Figure 15.1) exerting force through a physical process on another less energetic thing (the Affected), by which the energy is transmitted from Actor to Affected to bring about change (the squiggly line inside the Affected). All this takes place within a Setting, and may be observed by a Viewer who is independent of the event and its setting. In a typical clause the energetic thing/Actor is referred to by the Noun Phrase Subject, the less energetic thing/ Affected by the Noun Phrase Object, the Setting, either spatial or temporal by Adverbial Phrases Adjuncts. If we reconsider the example, ‘Traditionally, fishermen caught 100,000 tons of fish a year in the North Sea’ we can see how this typical material process transitive clause corresponds to the canonical event model. 1. It describes an event (as opposed to a static situation), namely, the fishermen’s catching of the fish. 2. It has two participants expressed by overt nominals that function as subject and object, in our case fishermen and 100,000 tons of fish. 232
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Actor
Affected
SETTING
Viewer Figure 15.1 The canonical event model
3. These represent physical entities which are separate and distinct from the setting or environment in which they are located, i.e., from the North Sea. 4. They participate in a strongly asymmetrical relationship: the fishermen are viewed as doing something to the fish, which are totally affected by their action and are passive. 5. The participant referred to by the subject (the fishermen) performs the action volitionally, while that referred to by the object (fish) is non-volitional. (Langacker, 1991: 302, 307) This last point needs more explanation, being independent of the canonical event model. The choice of subject participant is partly determined by the empathy hierarchy, according to which the following kinds of entity take the role of subject participant with decreasing degrees of likelihood: speaker > hearer > human > animal > physical object > abstract entity It is such a hierarchy which accounts for the following grammatical data: The dog chased me. I chased the dog.
I was chased by the dog. ?? The dog was chased by me.
‘The dog was chased by me’ is unlikely because the subject referent, the dog, is not very high in the empathy hierarchy compared with the speaker. Speakers, hearers, humans and animals, the most likely subject agents, are capable of volition, whereas, at least according to our commonsense view of the world, physical objects and abstract entities are incapable of volition. This increases the likelihood that subject referents (Actors) will be exercising volition. 233
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Consequently, by imposing the empathy hierarchy and the correlation between energy sources and animacy onto the canonical event we arrive at the construal of the prototypical clause in which a human actor provides the energy to act upon a passive (perhaps nonhuman) affected nature in a setting/environment which is marginalized as unimportant. This typical construal of material events is out of step with the insights of scientific thinking and is ecologically dangerous. It suggests humans can dominate or ignore a passive nature.
Hallidayan Grammar and the Meaning of Syntax Before exploring lexicogrammar and transitivity in ecolinguistics we need to go into the technicalities of grammar. First we need a model of clause types representing different kinds of processes and the participant things involved in them. The most useful is probably that of Michael Halliday (Halliday and Matthiessen, 2004: chapter 5). We can divide lexical verbs and the processes they represent into five categories, Existential, Relational, Material, Mental and Verbal (Table 15.2). Existential processes represent the existence of some thing, the single participant, known as the existent. Relational processes describe states of affairs, static situations. They relate two things, or a thing and a property, the token and the value. Material process verbs describe an action or event. Whether animate or not, the thing responsible for causing the action or event is called the actor. All material process verbs have an actor, the subject in active voice clauses. Some will take an object, denoting the affected. There may sometimes be two objects/affecteds, one of which can be called the recipient. Mental process verbs are of three types, perception, emotion and thought. The ‘person’ who experiences these perceptions, thoughts, or emotions is the experiencer and the thing they perceive, think, or feel about the experience. Table 15.2 Process types in Hallidayan grammar Process
Meanings
Participants
Example
Existential
existence
Existent
Relational
states, relationships
Token, Value
Material
actions, events
Actor, Affected, Recipient
Mental
perception emotion thought
Experiencer, Experience
Verbal
communicating
Sayer, Receiver, Verbiage
There are 6 moons of Uranus (Existent) Peter (Token) remained a teacher (Value) The tree (Token) is at the side of the house (Value) Snow (Actor) blocked the road (Affected) Jane (Actor) gave me (Recipient) a waffle (Affected) The cat (Experiencer) saw the bird (Experience) Mat (Experiencer) hated dogs (Experience) He (Experiencer) decided to go home (Experience) Paul (Sayer) told Mindy (Receiver) Deirdre (Sayer) whistled
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Verbal process verbs are verbs of saying or writing. The person doing the saying or writing will be called the sayer. The person addressed is the receiver. Before considering examples of the use of lexicogrammar for representing human-nature relationships, note the complication to grammar of nominalization, where material (and mental and verbal) process clauses are transformed into noun phrases, e.g., ‘the blocking of the driveway by the fall of snow.’ One possible effect of nominalization is the omission of the actor, as in ‘the degradation of our shared environment.’ This is often a manipulative way of avoiding assigning responsibility for harmful ecological effects (Schleppegrell, 2001, Halliday, 2001). Other linguists have suggested that nominalization is a positive resource for indicating the process nature of reality at least at the level of quantum physics, though not nearly as radical as Blackfoot grammar (Goatly, 2007). Another complication is ergative verbs, so called because a distinctive pattern emerges when one compares clauses with one and two participants. In the case of ergatives, when a second participant is introduced the clause extends to the left with the second participant becoming the subject and the first participant becoming the object (see Table 15.3). This contrasts with the pattern with nonergative verbs, where the introduction of the second participant extends the clause to the right, with the second participant becoming the object and the first participant remaining as the subject (see Table 15.4). In traditional grammar introducing the second participant would be analyzed as turning an intransitive into a transitive clause, but with ergative verbs we use the labels middle and effective. One advantage of ergative verbs is that they suggest the energy for action lies in the medium, e.g., the boat, cloth and the rice in Table 15.3. Even in the effective version the instigator is seen as providing a little extra energy to set off or facilitate the process energized by the medium (Davidse, 1992). So ergative material process clauses do not straightforwardly represent the canonical event in the same way as nonergative clauses do. We can now apply Hallidayan grammar, with its insights into semantic process types and participants, nominalization and ergativity to two sets of texts about ‘nature’ or ‘ecology,’ one an environmental text, State of the World 2012, the other the poems of Wordsworth and Edward Thomas (1949).
Table 15.3 Patterns of ergative verbs Medium
Process
The boat The cloth The rice MIDDLE
sailed tore cooked
v. v. v.
Instigator
Process
Medium
Mary The nail Pat EFFECTIVE
sailed tore cooked
the boat the cloth the rice
Actor
Process
Affected
John John TRANSITIVE
ate swallowed
a grape a coin
Table 15.4 Patterns of nonergative verbs Actor
Process
John John INTRANSITIVE
Ate Swallowed
v. v.
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Lexicogrammatical Patterns and Examples in the Environmental Discourse of The State of the World 2012 I researched grammatical patterns in the State of the World 2012 (SOTW), published by the avowedly pro-environment Worldwatch Institute. I identified all nouns referring to natural phenomena that were participants in clauses. And also nouns in noun phrases involving nominalization, whenever at least one participant role in the equivalent clause could be determined, for example ‘the degradation of our shared environment’ (‘x degrades our shared environment (affected)’). These were then classified according to the Hallidayan framework. The grammatical choices do little to challenge the canonical event paradigm of humans dominating nature as expressed by the typical clause. Natural element participants are predominantly affecteds, both in clauses, 48% (Table 15.5), and even more in nominalizations, 78.5% (Table 15.6). Natural elements as transitive actors and tokens have some significance in clauses, but natural elements in the other categories are negligible. Table 15.5 Natural participants in clauses Participant
Examples
Number
%
Affected
programs that improve the environment; farmers raise enormous numbers of animals; China is buying more soy; metals are recycled; values that protected animals and habitats the forest now provides the village with food; the beluga sturgeon of the Caspian sea produce roe that can be worth up to $10,000 per kilogram; different species of coral build structures of various sizes forests are a source of food, energy, medicine, housing, and income; water is becoming scarce; they [rabbits] are also responsible for serious erosion problems; a tree falls in the forest; a long-suffering waterway that flows through the nation’s capital; 90% of chickens in India arrive from industrial facilities;
127
48
Actor transitive
Token
Actor intransitive
36
13.5
32
12
12
4.5
Table 15.6 Natural participants in nominalizations Participants
Examples
Number
%
Affected
the degradation of our shared environment; land use; forest management; control of our atmosphere, land, forests, mountains and waterways; flows of minerals; saltwater intrusion; land subsidence; the collapse of the whole ecosystem; climate shocks; drought strikes; impacts of GM soy; ecosystem services
167
78.5
Actor intransitive Actor transitive
236
8
4
5
2.5
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Let’s now see how the grammar intersects with lexis. The most common phrases involving nominalization are climate change (59 times), land use (23 times) and air pollution (10 times). As in the majority of nominalizations with natural elements as affecteds or mediums, the actor is usually unstated. Power over nature is very much assumed as the figures earlier show. Sometimes the report even arrogantly assumes that humans produce natural objects: meat, egg and dairy/chicken production; farmers who previously produced small quantities of low-quality honey; etc. etc. Apparently bees, chickens and cows contribute little to this production! Patterns of interaction with the environment also stress the power of humans over nature. First the environment, especially land and water, is used by humans: land use (23 times); water usage (3 times); water use (3 times); using huge quantities of water; the use of mangrove areas/palm oil/ecosystems/cereal; 12% of the world’s corn was used for animal feed Use is very often a matter of consumption: fish/meat/water consumption; half the world’s meat is now . . . consumed in developing regions; 40% of vegetables consumed by households. Consumption often refers to eating and feeding; corn and soybean are fed to animals, animals are fed to us; 12% of the world’s corn was used for animal feed; grain eaten by people; people in industrial regions still eat much more meat; eating more locally grown food. Another kind of domination of the environment by humans is the extraction of minerals: to extract precious metals; extraction of key metals; the extraction of oil, gas and coal. The kinds and extent of human’s use of the environment often leads to excessive exploitation: commercial fish stocks are fully exploited; severe overexploitation of sturgeon; the over-pumping of groundwater; overgrazed and overharvested lands. The results of this human use, consumption and exploitation are negative effects on ecology. ‘Degradation,’ e.g.: land degradation (3 times); ecosystem degradation (2 times); degradation of environment/our shared environment/freshwater/land and water. Or pollution: air pollution (10 times); water pollution; the tons of consumer refuse polluting the Anacostia river; pollute the air, atmosphere, soil or water. 237
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Or even more severely, destruction: habitat destruction (2 times); destruction of ecosystems/planet earth/wetlands; companies that were destroying Indonesian rainforests; the current model of consumer societies is destroying the planet. In keeping with SOTW’s representation of humans as dominating a passive nature, it depicts the solutions to environmental problems as more human action on the environment. It needs to be managed: Water/river basin/ forest/pest/management; the management . . . of public and marginal lands; the ability to manage the forests. Negative effects need to be prevented by preserving or saving it: preservation of natural resources; preserve forested areas; preserving the world’s forests/ all life in all its forms/ an ecosystem and its services. save the planet; saving the panda/coral reefs; Or reversed by restoration: restoring ecosystems like forests and wetlands; restore Earth’s systems; the restoration of public and marginal lands; ecosystem restoration. To sum up: humans act on a passive nature, by using and exploiting and thereby degrading, polluting and destroying it, and the solution to this problem is more human interventions and action on a relatively powerless nature.
The Representation of Active Nature However, from Table 15.5, we see that although natural elements are mainly represented as powerless affecteds, in 13.5% of clauses they are represented as powerful transitive actors. Analyzing these clauses shows that the majority depict nature as serving the needs of humanity, by providing, producing, and supplying goods and services to sustain and support human populations:
Provide the ecological systems that provide us with fresh water, soil, clean air, a stable climate . . . pollination and dozens of other ecosystem services; ecosystems provide services/essential services; resources provided by nature; the forest now provides the village with food and tradable forest products.
Produce 26,000 food gardens . . . producing 25,000 tons of food annually; 40,000 cows producing milk; the beluga sturgeon of the Caspian sea produce roe that can be worth up to $10,000 per kilogram. 238
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Sustain, Support, Supply the ability of the planet’s ecosystems to sustain future generations can no longer be taken for granted; ecosystems support human well-being; the 60 billion livestock animals that now supply the world’s meat, eggs and dairy products. Analysis of these grammatical patterns and the most commonly used verbs in clauses and nominalizations reveals a view of nature as predominantly centered on humans, i.e., anthropocentric. Nature is used by humans, and if over-used or mis-used the resulting environmental destruction is important simply because it threatens nature’s ability to provide us with necessary resources and services. As the report itself states, ‘Everything humans need for survival and well-being depends . . . on the natural environment.’
Anthropocentrism, Vocabulary and the Neo-liberal Colonization of the Green Movement Such human-need–focused anthropocentrism is also evident in much of the lexis that refers to natural objects: energy, fuels, food, meat, natural resources, raw/materials. Or human evaluations are imposed on nature: pests, animal wastes, feral animal populations. (For discussion of anthropocentrism in environmental language see Fill, 1993: 104–115, 1995, 2007 and Heuberger, 2003, 2007). More significant, perhaps, is that nature is viewed in terms of economic units such as assets, money or capital: Earth’s natural capital (3 times); natural assets; common assets, and ecosystem services; the world’s common biological wealth; environmental bankruptcy; Look also at the examples earlier under the heading of the verb provide and the repeated mention of ecology in terms of services. All these phrases suggest that, in the modern economic regime of neo-liberalism, the way to save the planet’s ecology is to make it marketable as an asset valued in terms of money. This is known as the Natural Capital Agenda: pricing, financialization, valuing of nature in terms of money in an attempt to save it. Problems with this approach have been pointed out by Harvey (1996) and Monbiot (2014).
Lexicogrammar in the Nature Poetry of Wordsworth and Edward Thomas Avowedly pro-environment SOTW employs a syntax which undermines respect for the power and autonomy of nature. Through the semantics of its grammar it generally represents nature as passive, in step with the canonical event/empathy hierarchy, except when it serves human needs. However, it is worth investigating whether other kinds of nature discourse, such as poetry, use a grammar which recognizes the power of nature to act and communicate. To do this I compare grammatical representation in SOTW with that in The Collected Poems of Edward Thomas and Wordsworth’s The Prelude.
Sayers and Actors in SOTW Contrasted With Edward Thomas and Wordsworth (Table 15.7) In the poems of Edward Thomas, 31.5% of natural element participants in clauses are Actors/Sayers; in SOTW the total is 23.5% including mediums in middle clauses. Of these 239
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Table 15.7 Actors and Sayers in Thomas’ poems and The State of the World
Thomas SOTW
Experiences
Transitive Actors
Intransitive Actors
Sayers
Total Actors + Sayers
10.5% 5%
10.5% 13.5%
15% 10%
6% 0%
31.5% 23.5%
there are no Sayers, and more than half, 13.5%, are transitive Actors, mainly those where natural elements supply or provide goods and services to humans.
Actors In Thomas natural elements are more frequently intransitive Actors (15%) than transitive (10.5%), and the figures for animals and birds in Wordsworth are even more different (9.2% intransitive to 0.7% transitive, in Table 15.8, column 2). These figures give an opposite pattern to that in SOTW (10%, if we include ergative middles, to 13.5%). Whereas natural elements in SOTW 2012 have to make an impact and benefit humans to be Actors, in Wordsworth’s The Prelude (1805), natural elements’ actions are worth describing, quite apart from any effect beyond themselves. The eagle soars high in the element
(book VI, 536)
That lowly bed whence I had heard the wind Roar and the rain beat hard
(book IV, 85–86)
Landscape, as a proportion of participants, also figures quite frequently in The Prelude as an intransitive Actor or middle Medium (Table 15.8, column 4). One pro-ecological grammatical resource is noticeable here, the promotion of a location circumstance into an actor, e.g. And all the pastures dance with lambs Compare this with the more commonsense ‘Lambs dance in all the pastures.’ Instead of the pastures being marginalized as part of the setting, or the environment, they have become participants in the action. The following passage describes the young Wordsworth ice skating, and the highlighted clauses illustrate a dynamic interaction between humans and nature, as though the skater’s movement makes him aware of an energy inherent in the banks and cliffs: . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . and oftentimes, When we had given our bodies to the wind, And all the shadowy banks on either side Came sweeping through the darkness, spinning still The rapid line of motion, then at once Have I reclining back upon my heels, Stopped short; yet still the solitary cliffs Wheeled by me even as if the earth had rolled With visible motion her diurnal round! 240
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This passage illustrates another resource for undermining the grammatical reinforcement of the canonical event model: the use of ergative verbs: sweep, spin, wheel and roll. The first and third are middle (intransitive) clauses and the second and fourth effective (transitive) In The Prelude landscape is an Actor 50% more in transitive/effective clauses than intransitive (Table 15.8, column 4), and this active nature of the landscape in Wordsworth, defies the empathy hierarchy, in contrast to our commonsense view. Typically mountains feature as these transitive Actors: I had seen. . . . The western mountain touch his setting orb And mountains over all, embracing all; Weather is the most important transitive actor (Table 15.8 column 5), affecting humans, the poet in particular. The very opening of The Prelude demonstrates: Oh there is blessing in this gentle breeze, A visitant that while it fans my cheek Doth seem half-conscious of the joy it brings From the green fields, and from yon azure sky.
(book I, 1–4)
In another famous passage the boy Wordsworth feels the wind (and grass and rock) supporting him as he climbs steep crags: . . . I have hung Above the raven’s nest, by knots of grass And half-inch fissures in the slippery rock But ill sustained, and almost (so it seemed) Suspended by the blast that blew amain . . .
(book I, 341–345)
In sum, what distinguishes the actors in The Prelude is the energy and potential given to natural elements usually regarded as lifeless—weather, and even landscape.
Sayers There is a total lack of Sayers in SOTW 2012. In fact, instead of nature speaking for itself the report expects the United Nations Environment Program ‘to serve as the voice of the environment.’ By contrast Edward Thomas and Wordsworth see nature as a communicator. Almost twothirds (47/72) of the instances of natural element sayers in Thomas are birds. For instance: This was the best of May—the small brown birds Wisely reiterating endlessly What no man learnt yet, in or out of school. (‘Sedge Warblers’) Sayers in The Prelude tend to be associated with, on the one hand, animals and birds (Table 15.8 column 2) where 10.7% of the natural element noun phrase are Sayers, and rivers and streams (column 3) where 5.8% are. Examples of animal/bird Sayers are By the still borders of the misty lake, 241
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Table 15.8 Participant roles as a percentage of all noun phrases within natural categories in The Prelude
Actor Trans Actor Intrans Sayer Experiencer Experience Affected
Animals/Birds
Water
Landscape
Weather
Plants
0.7% 9.2% 10.7% 4.6% 19.8% 19.8%
5.8% 6.2% 5.8% 1.2% 4.6% 9.3%
4.8% 3.2% 1.1% 1.4% 4.4% 16%
22.6% 24.8% 3% 0.75% 3.8% 16.6%
5.8% 9.7% 1.8% 1.1% 6.9% 15.5%
NB: The percentages do not add up to 100, because the 100% includes participants in relational and existential clauses, and nonparticipants, e.g., NPs in post- or premodifying structures or adjuncts.
Repeating favourite verses with one voice, Or conning more, as happy as the birds That round us chaunted. The heifer lows, uneasy at the voice Of a new master; bleat the flocks aloud. As for bodies of water, Wordsworth is, by his own admission . . . a spoiled child . . . in daily intercourse With those crystalline rivers, solemn heights, And mountains, ranging like a fowl of the air . . . Indeed, in Wordsworth’s ideal world, we should not interfere with rivers and treat them as affecteds since this will actually inhibit their powers of communication: The famous brook, who, soon as he was boxed Within our garden, found himself at once, As if by trick insidious and unkind, Stripped of his voice and left to dimple down A channel paved by man‘s officious care.
Nature as Experience Rather Than Affected Sayers need listeners, so predictably there is a larger number of natural elements as experiences in Thomas compared with SOTW 2012 (10.5% to 5% in Table 15.7). For example, All things forget the forest Excepting perhaps me, when now I see The old man, the child, the goose feathers at the edge of the forest, And hear all day long the thrush repeat his song (‘The Green Roads’) And in Wordsworth we see a significant representation of nature as experiences in birds and animals (19.8% in Table 15.8 column 2) and plants (6.9% in column 6).
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I spied A glow-worm underneath a dusky plume Or canopy of yet unwithered fern At leisure, then, I viewed, from day to day, The spectacles within doors, birds and beasts Of every nature In Thomas the affective mental process responses to experiences of nature are crucial, in, for example, these lines from ‘November’: Few care for the mixture of earth and water, Twig, leaf, flint, thorn, Straw, feather, all that men scorn, Pounded up and sodden by flood, Condemned as mud . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Another loves earth and November more dearly Because without them, he sees clearly, The sky would be nothing more to his eye Than he, in any case, is to the sky; He loves even the mud whose dyes Renounce all brightness to the skies. It is clear that in Thomas and Wordsworth, nature, especially birds, animals and water, are much more objects of attention and serious communicators than their counterparts in SOTW 2012 and therefore figure more as experiences and Sayers. In SOTW, by contrast, they are never Sayers, and the ratio of experiences to affecteds is much lower. Thomas and Wordsworth convey the idea that nature can speak to us as a Sayer or affect us as an Experience. Being receptive to nature’s messages as Receivers or Experiencers gives us a different direction for our scientific and technological advances, perhaps a more positive one than using technology to enhance our material power as Actors over an affected nature. Scientific measuring instruments convey messages from nature which may lead to a more reciprocal relationship. We responded to messages about the ozone layer which nature sent us. Will we respond in the same way to anthropogenic climate change?
Activation of Experiences and Tokens Upgrading experiences and tokens to actors is widespread and stylistically significant in The Prelude. It applies most obviously to plants, landscape and weather. Many of these Actors are only metaphorically material. In a more commonsense syntax they would be experiences (as in brackets): Till the whole cave, so late a senseless mass, Busies the eye with images and forms Boldly assembled
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(cf. I saw the whole cave . . .) Oh there is blessing in this gentle breeze, A visitant that while it fans my cheek Doth seem half-conscious of the joy it brings From the green fields, and from yon azure sky. (cf. I enjoyed the breeze fanning my cheek) . . . . . . . . . my favourite grove, Tossing in sunshine its dark boughs aloft, As if to make the strong wind visible, Wakes in me agitations like its own (cf. I fear my favourite grove/my favourite grove worries me) A further very significant pattern in Wordsworth and Thomas is the metaphorical transformation of a basically relational process into a material one, that is, the activation of tokens or existents. Thereby nature becomes more active than static: The garden lay Upon a slope surmounted by a plain Of a small bowling-green; beneath us *stood A grove . . . There rose a crag, That, from the meeting-point of two highways Ascending, *overlooked them both . . . Instead of ‘being at the top of’ a slope or two highways, the plain or crag ‘surmounts’ or ‘overlooks’ them. In this context of active existence and relations even stood takes on more energy than usual. The high percentage (16%) of landscape as affected in The Prelude (Table 15.8) is partly due to those activated material processes, positioning one part of the landscape in relation to another. Similarly in Thomas, we find the following examples of activation of tokens: The fields beyond that league close in together/And merge [cf. ‘are together and indistinguishable’] A white house *crouched [‘was in a low position’] at the foot of a great tree. Typically paths and roads are not just positioned next to a place or between two places but run, mount, or take you from one to the other: Where the firm soaked road/*Mounts beneath pines On all sides then, as now, paths *ran to the inn;/And now a farm-track *takes you from a gate.
Personification, Coordination Dissolving the Human–Nature Distinction Some examples earlier have been asterisked, to indicate personification. This is one way of problematizing the human–nature boundary. The metaphorical pattern LANDSCAPE IS 244
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HUMAN BODY, discussed earlier, is a specific sub-set of such personification. Personification is particularly common in Thomas, whether of light: And the sun has stolen out, /Peered, and resolved to shine at seven
Or Plants On the prone roof and walls the nettle reigns.
Or Weather All day the air triumphs with its two voices/Of wind and rain: /As loud as if in anger it rejoices Sometimes the personification is quite subtle, as in ‘Aspens’: Over all sorts of weather, men, and times, Aspens must shake their leaves and men may hear But need not listen, more than to my rhymes. Whatever wind blows, while they and I have leaves We cannot other than an aspen be That ceaselessly, unreasonably grieves, Or so men think who like a different tree. These lines confuse the literal with the personifying metaphor by coordinating the trees with the poet, ‘they and I’ and ‘we’, and using predicates that apply metaphorically to one and literally to the other, as follows: LITERAL METAPHORICAL
They have leaves I have leaves (‘sheets of paper’)
LITERAL METAPHORICAL
They [we] cannot other than an aspen be I cannot other than an aspen be
LITERAL METAPHORICAL
I unreasonably grieve An aspen unreasonably grieves
A further technique for such blurring is co-ordination of the human and natural. In earlier lines from ‘Aspens’ we have: And trees and us - imperfect friends, we men And trees since time began; and nevertheless Between us still we breed a mystery. Other examples are: . . . so that I seem a king Among man, beast, machine, bird, child, . . . . . . kind as it can be, this world being made so, 245
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To stones and men and beasts and birds and flies, To all things.
Summary In terms of a comparison between the lexicogrammar of SOTW and Thomas/Wordsworth we found: • • • •
Nature is more frequently an Actor/Sayer than an affected in Thomas/Wordsworth, compared with SOTW. In Thomas/ Wordsworth there are a large number of natural Sayers, whereas there are none in SOTW. Among the natural Actors Thomas and Wordsworth have a higher ratio of intransitive to transitive, and SOTW the reverse, though landscape and weather are important transitive Actors in Wordsworth. Nature as experience is much more common in Thomas and Wordsworth than in SOTW.
In addition, we noted pro-ecological lexicogrammatical techniques in Wordsworth and Thomas, strategies for disrupting the typical clause structures which marginalize the environment as a circumstance, or regard it as passive and uncommunicative: • • •
Frequent use of the ergative middle in Wordsworth Widespread activation of experiences, tokens and existents Personification and coordination to blur the human–nature divide
Conclusions This chapter has explored the ways in which lexis and grammar represent the ‘natural’ world. It considered a few examples of original metaphors, disputed terms, affective terms, conventional metaphors and normal lexis, to suggest how these might figure in the more and less obviously in the ideological representation of nature. However, the main part of the chapter was to consider how the canonical event + empathy hierarchy is reflected in the typical transitive clause and how this often marginalizes nature through adverbials as part of the setting, or constructs nature as passive. We saw how The State of the World 2012 conformed to the representation of a passive nature, except when nature provided for humans. By contrast, poems by Wordsworth and Thomas represent nature grammatically as a more powerful actor and communicator and as a vital experience. Certain grammatical devices such as the use of ergative verbs, and the activation of experiences and tokens/existents were common in both poets, and the power of nature was recognized though personification and co-ordination to problematize the human/nature division. The chapter also mentioned a more radical alternative noncanonical event grammar in other languages, like the Algonquin Blackfoot, which, emphasizing process reflects better the insights of modern science (for extensive treatment see Goatly, 2007: chapter 7).
Further Reading Fill, A. and Mülhlhäusler, P. (eds.) (2001), The Ecolinguistics Reader. Language, Ecology and Environment. London, New York: Continuum. 246
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Harre, R., Brockmaier, J., and Mülhlhäusler, P. (1999), Greenspeak: A Study of Environmental Discourse. London: Sage.
References Alexander, R. J. (2009), Framing Discourse on the Environment. London: Routledge. Bang, J. C., Døør, J., Steffensen, S. V. and Nash, J. (2007), Language, Ecology and Society. London: Continuum. Berman, T. (2001), ‘The rape of mother nature? Women in the language of environmental discourse’, in A. Fill and P. Mühlhäusler (eds.), pp. 258–269. Bohm, D. (1980), Wholeness and the Implicate Order. London: Routledge. Davidse, K. (1992), ‘Transitivity/ergativity: The Janus-headed grammar of actions and events’, in M. Davies and L. Ravelli (eds.), Advances in Systemic Linguistics: Recent Theory and Practice. London: Pinter, pp. 105–166. Döring, M. and Zunino, F. (2014), ‘Nature cultures in old and new worlds: A diachronic and eco-critical perspective on metaphors and lexical items’, Language Sciences, http://dx.doi.org/10.1016/j. langsci.2013.08.005 Fill, A. (1993), Ökolinguistik: Eine Einführung. Tübingen: Gunter Narr. Fill, A. (1995), ‘Contrastive ecolinguistics—a new field for linguistic ploughshares’, in W. Riehle and H. Keiper (eds.), Anglistentag Graz 1994: Proceedings. Tübingen: Niemayer, pp. 501–511. Fill, A. (2007), ‘Nomination and ecology: Anthropocentric, anthropomorphic and physiocentric naming’, in C. Todenhagen and W. Thiele (eds.), Nominalization, Nomination and Naming. Tübingen: Stauffenburg, pp. 11–26. Fill, A. (2010), The Language Impact. London: Equinox. Fill, A. and Mülhlhäusler, P. (eds.) (2001), The Ecolinguistics Reader: Language, Ecology and Environment. London, New York: Continuum. Goatly, A. (2007), Washing the Brain: Metaphor and Hidden ideology, Amsterdam: Benjamins. Hagège, C. (1985), L’homme de paroles : Contribution linguistique aux sciences humaines. Paris: Artheme Fayard. Halliday, M. A. K. (2001), ‘New ways of meaning: The challenge to applied linguistics’, in A. Fill and P. Mühlhäusler (eds.), pp. 175–201. Halliday, M. A. K. and Matthiessen, C. (2004), An Introduction to Functional Grammar. London: Hodder. Harre, R., Brockmaier, J. and Mülhlhäusler, P. (1999), Greenspeak: A Study of Environmental Discourse. London: Sage. Harvey, D. (1996), Justice, Nature and the Geography of Difference. Oxford: Blackwell. Heuberger, R. (2003), ‘Anthropocentrism in monolingual English dictionaries: An ecolinguistic approach to the lexicographical treatment of faunal terminology’, Arbeiten aus Anglistik und Amerikanistik, 28(1): 93–105. Heuberger, R. (2007), ‘Language and ideology: A brief survey of anthropocentrism and speciesism in English’, in A. Fill and H. Penz (eds.), Sustaining Language: Essays in Applied Ecolinguistics. Münster: LIT-Verlag, pp. 105–124. Human Population: Fundamentals of Growth and Change (2001), Population Reference Bureau Report, Population Reference Bureau. Langacker, R. W. (1991), Foundations of Cognitive Grammar. Vol. 2: Descriptive Applications. Stanford: Stanford University Press. Larson, B. (2011), Metaphors for Environmental Sustainability. London, New Haven: Yale University Press. Lee, R. (2000), ‘The core-periphery model’, in R. J. Johnston, D. Gregory, G. Bratt and M. Watts (eds.), Dictionary of Human Geography. 4th edition. London: Routledge, pp. 115–117. Leroy Little Bear and Ryan Heavy Head (2004), ‘A conceptual anatomy of the Blackfoot world’, Revision: A Journal of Consciousness and Transformation, 26(3): 31–38. 247
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Loh, J. and Harmon, D. (2014), Biocultural Diversity: Threatened Species, Endangered Languages. Zeist, The Netherlands: WWF Netherlands. Lovelock, J. (1986), ‘Gaia: The world as living organism’, New Scientist, 18(12): 25–28. Lovelock, J. (1988), The Ages of Gaia. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Lovelock, J. (2007), The Revenge of Gaia. Harmondsworth: Penguin. Meisner, M. (1995), ‘Metaphors of nature: Old vinegar in new bottles’, Trumpeter, 12: 11–18. Metalude (2003), www.ln.edu.hk/lle/cwd/project01/web/home.html or www.ln.edu.hk/lle/cwd03/ lnproject_chi/home.html. user id , password Mills, W. T. (1982), ‘Metaphorical vision: Changes to western attitudes to the environment’, Annals of the Association of American Geographers, 72: 237–253. Milner, G. B. (1984), ‘The new missionaries? Language, education and the Pacific way’, in C. Clerk (ed.), The Effects of Development on Traditional Pacific Island Cultures. London: Royal Commonwealth Society, pp. 6–22. Monbiot, G. (2014), ‘The pricing of everything’, www.monbiot.com/2014/07/24/the-pricing-of- everything/ (accessed July 26, 2014). Mühlhäusler, P. (1996), Linguistic Ecology: Language Changes and Linguistic Imperialism in the Pacific Region. London: Routledge. Myers, D. (1995), The Politics of Multiculturalism in the Asian Pacific. Darwin: University of Northern Territory Press. Rowe, S. J. (1989), ‘What on earth is the environment’, Trumpeter, 6: 123–127. Schleppegrell, M. J. (2001), ‘What makes a grammar green? A reply to Goatly’, in A. Fill, and P. Mühlhäusler (eds.), pp. 229–231. Schulz, B. (2001), ‘Language and the natural environment’, in A. Fill and P. Mühlhäusler (eds.), pp. 109–114. State of the World 2012: Creating Sustainable Prosperity (2012). Washington, DC: The Worldwatch Institute. Steffensen, S. V. and Fill, A. (2014), ‘Ecolinguistics: The state of the art and future horizons’, Language Sciences, http://dx.doi.org/10.1016/j.langsci.2013.08.003 Stibbe, A. and Zunino, F. (2008), ‘Boyd’s forest dragon or the survival of humanity: Discourse and the social construction of biodiversity’, in M. Döring, H. Penz and W. Trampe (eds.), Language, Signs and Nature: Ecolinguistic Dimensions of Environmental Discourse. Tübingen: Stauffenburg, pp. 165–181. Thomas, E. (1949), Collected Poems. London: Faber and Faber. Trampe, W. (2001), ‘Language and ecological crisis’, in A. Fill and P. Mühlhäusler (eds.), pp. 232–241. Whorf, B. J. (1956), Language, Thought and Reality (ed. J. B. Carroll). Cambridge, MA: MIT Press. Wordsworth, W. (1933/1960), (first published 1805) The Prelude. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
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16 The Treatment of Environmental Topics in the Language of Politics Mai Kuha
Introduction and Definitions Wherever environmental discourse occurs, it is important. We analyze it because it can give us insight into how people tend to perceive environmental problems and relate to the natural world, and, perhaps even more importantly, because the influence can flow in the other direction as well: environmental discourse has the potential to shape how we think about the natural world, and can therefore affect our environmental behavior. The language of politics, broadly understood, is a particularly important area in which to analyze environmental discourse, because the practical repercussions are often not in any way a matter of conjecture, but palpably real. Constitutions and other high-level documents articulate some of the deepest secular values that guide nations; whether and how to include ecological concerns in such documents is a decision with far-reaching ripple effects. The hotly debated meaning of a word in environmental policies and regulations can influence whether toxins will flow freely into rivers, whether an age-old mountain will stand or be leveled or whether a species will still have its native habitat. One aspect the language of politics shares with environmental discourse more generally is that working with complex scientific information is challenging for the nonspecialists participating in the discourse. In addition to this, however, the social actors engaging in political life must navigate the demands of socially and ideologically based identities and the agendas of various social entities, so the complexity is perhaps even greater. Which genres should be included in our look at the language of politics? Cap and Okulska (2013) follow Fairclough’s definition of the political sphere as “that dimension of social life in which different social groups act in pursuance of their particular interests, needs, aspirations, and values” (2006: 33). From this, it follows that politics encompasses not only the political system at various levels, but also “governmental and non-governmental social institutions (. . .) and the media” (Cap and Okulska, 2013: 7). Therefore, the genres to be considered within the language of politics go beyond speeches, interviews, and printed materials associated with political campaigning, and include various forms of policy communication as well. Leadership and governance often have a political dimension in that social actors may angle to retain power in the future even when the current interaction is 249
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ostensibly about some practical matter to be resolved. Beard (2000) suggests that political language can be seen as the language of politicians, in the same way as the language use of any other occupation could be the object of investigation.
Historical Perspectives Regarding the language of politics in general, previous research has examined the linguistic characteristics of speeches, slogans and posters and the dynamics of political interviews (Beard, 2000). Metaphor as a device in political discourse has received considerable attention; see, for example, Charteris-Black (2005). George Lakoff (2002, among other writings) has made a particularly beneficial contribution in articulating the moral basis of conservative and liberal perspectives in the United States and applying this model to explain the variable meanings of certain politically important lexical items, such as freedom. He also shows how the two moral perspectives are the basis for different ways of viewing the natural environment (2010). As we narrow our focus from the language of politics in general to its intersection with environmental concerns, a few politically salient instances of environmental discourse can be noted as potential objects of analysis (Figure 16.1). According to Toke, the Brundtland Report of 1987 marks the beginning of “modern environmental discourse,” which is
1972 Stockholm Declaration
1977 President Carter’s energy policy speech
1987 The Montreal Protocol and the Brundtland Report
1988 James Hansen testifies before the U.S. Senate Energy and Natural Resources Committee
1992 The Declaration of Interdependence at the Rio Summit
1994 The Aalborg Charter
1997 The Kyoto Protocol
2000 The Earth Charter
2008 Ecuador’s Constitution recognizes the rights of nature
2014 The IPCC’s Synthesis Report for the Fifth Assessment Report
2015 President Rivera commits Costa Rica to carbon neutrality in UN address
Figure 16.1 A timeline of high-profile instances of environmental discourse with political repercussions 250
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characterized by the criticism of industrialism for not having taken the environment seriously, the idea that human activities are very damaging environmentally, and, as a result, the conversion to the notion of sustainability (2000: 59). A handful of general observations can be made about research on how the language of politics treats environmental topics. In the following sections, we will see very little research on environmental topics in the language of political campaigning, but a number of analyses of language in environmental policy, particularly energy policy. Research has focused more often on political entities at the national or global level, rather than the local level. There are a couple of framing alternatives that researchers sometimes choose from: they may construct the language of politics as (perhaps inherently) duplicitous and self-serving—for example, with references to doublespeak or greenwashing—or in terms of collaborative problem solving. Finally, research on the discourse of environmental policy shades easily into research on the policies themselves, their history, and their effectiveness; even when the researcher’s focus remains on policy discourse, approaches tend somewhat towards content analysis, the analysis of linguistic expression sometimes having a secondary role.
Critical Issues and Topics Perhaps the issue most frequently addressed in the genres considered here is framing, and with good reason. Framing a crisis such as climate change as a social justice problem, as an economic opportunity, or as a national security threat—these are not just superficial differences in word choice. Rather, thinking of the concept of framing as used in cognitive science (see, for example, Lakoff, 2010), they are very different cognitive orientations that activate different sets of values and beliefs, and can make some ways of talking and thinking about a problem seem more reasonable than others. As a result, some potential solutions might be ruled out, depending on the framing chosen. In contrast to popular perceptions about politicians putting a certain ‘spin’ on issues in a deceptive, manipulative way, the reality is that framing is a fundamental aspect of our cognitive activity. That is, framing is not optional, in political discourse or elsewhere; whenever we discuss an issue, we frame it in one way or another. Certain framing processes have been given labels (notably, ‘securitization’ and ‘economization’) because they are of particular interest, but frames that have not been named and analyzed are still frames. Related to this concept of framing is the analysis of ‘storylines’ and ‘discourses’ (see, for example, Cotton et al., 2014 and Nielsen, 2014). The analysis of “climate change narratives” (see, for example, Fløttum, 2013) is also related, but places more emphasis on a progression of events in time. Another area for analysis is to note labels used for various aspects of the situation (for the environmental issue itself, for the social actors involved, etc.) as lexical items (but without necessarily attending to underlying value systems or placing a word or expression in a larger cognitive framework, as would be done in frame analysis). A third area, related to both of the earlier examples, is how language users represent themselves and other social actors. A particularly salient aspect is how the roles of these actors are linguistically constructed in terms of agency and responsibility. To examine the representation of agency, we can analyze discourse one proposition at a time, noting whether a reference to an environmentally relevant behavior is achieved by means of a verb. If it is, we can see whether the semantic role of agent of the action coincides with a noun phrase referring to a person, group, or governmental entity of interest. We can then shed light on the closely related question of responsibility (who caused environmental damage, and who 251
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should repair it?) by focusing more specifically on the meanings of the verbs and other linguistic elements. Obviously, the concerns that social actors may be attending to in their constructions of agency and responsibility in this area are to claim credit for environmental progress, avoid blame for environmental disasters and avoid committing to future actions that might threaten their political power. Another issue that should arise in the domain of the language of politics, but apparently does not, is the question of the agency of nonhuman animals. In theory, this could change quickly if efforts to recognize nonhuman animals’ personhood ever met with success and politicians then realized that chimpanzees and orcas would be reporting to polling stations at the next election. Another aspect of the presentation of social actors is the construction of identity. For example, governments or groups can position themselves so that environmental stewardship is an integral part of the identity that they present to the world. Finally, there is an important and varied area of research foregrounding in various ways how environmental discourse occurring in the language of politics relates to actual practical impacts in the world (potential impacts motivate the previously mentioned research strands as well, of course, but might take a back seat to other aspects). One strand of research investigates to what extent wording influences the effectiveness of environmental policy. Discourse analysis can also cast light on attitudes towards environmental matters. The next section outlines findings from recent work on the issues and topics described earlier.
Current Contributions and Research Framing Environmental matters are often framed as threats to security. Fischhendler and Katz (2013) found that nongovernmental organizations (NGOs) and other nongovernmental actors, in particular, tend to use this frame; they point out that this practice can potentially confuse our understanding of both environmental and security issues, as words, expressions and metaphors imported from the discourse of security seem to be used in an attempt to convey urgency, but without articulating how environmental damage relates directly to traditional security concerns in the sense of violent conflict between groups of people. Fischhendler and Nathan (2014) found that framing natural gas policy in Israel in terms of security allowed different parties to argue for very different agendas. Another frequent alternative is to frame environmental issues in economic terms, whether as a threat or as an opportunity; see Fletcher (2009) and Krzyżanowski (2013). When discussing climate change, a social justice/environmental justice frame is often used. Little research has been found on the use of this frame in the language of politics, but it is among the frames found by Cotton et al. (2014) in policy discourse in the UK regarding shale gas.
How Social Actors, Environmental Issues and Others Are Labeled Environmental problems are complex, and so are the policies proposed to address them; it is not surprising that terms referring to them lend themselves to misunderstanding and vagueness, which can be exploited. Littlefield argues that lack of precision in the language of energy policy “facilitates policy manipulation” (2013: 782). Stephenson et al. show that
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the terms climate solution and transition fuel applied to shale gas in policy discussions in Canada “amount to greenwashing” (2012: 458). Regarding labels that categorize people in terms of their cognitive stance towards climate change science, Kuha (2013) traces the origin of the derogatory term warmist. On the basis of an analysis of written news discourse (warmist is not attested in the spoken discourse portion of the Corpus of Contemporary American English, so the extent of its use in conversation is unclear) it seems that warmist was coined and spread by a surprisingly small number of writers and publications. The first instance was in 1989, in a guest column in The New York Times by Howard Rheingold, author of “They have a word for that: A lighthearted lexicon of untranslatable words and phrases.” A decade later, Ben Wattenberg used warmist in an opinion piece about Al Gore. Wattenberg, as senior fellow of the American Enterprise Institute and host of the show Think Tank on PBS from 1994 to 2010, was a writer of higher visibility, and his opinion piece was carried in three newspapers. In 2004, a series of anonymous editorials in The Republican-American started to use warmist regularly. In 2007, The Sunday Telegraph started publishing nearly weekly editorials in which Christopher Booker, author of various books opposing the science of climate change, deployed warmist as often as feasible. Starting in 2009, a single writer (Mark Landsbaum) managed to use warmist 42 times in the Orange County Register. Also in 2009, warmist was among the American Dialect Society’s candidates for Word of the Year—a nomination which does not entail approval or admiration, but merely the recognition that the frequency of sightings of an item in print is high enough that the word can be said to have entered the language. (One update can be added to the 2013 findings: since 2012, Senator Inhofe has found occasion to use the word warmist twice in the Congressional Record.) The way the handful of writers mentioned earlier used warmist was consistent with a deliberate attempt to discredit climate change scientists and to frame climate change science as superstition or religion. It was associated with being rigid or criminal (“toeing the warmist line; warmist gangsters”) or with religion (“warmist orthodoxy”), and sometimes explicitly connected to the political currents in these writings (“adherents of the ‘warmist’ religion, led by their false prophet St Algore”). These uses are clearly not complimentary, but Kuha points out that it is problematic that the labels ‘climate denier’ and ‘climate believer’ occur frequently in mainstream climate discourse—for example, in the title of Pooley’s (2010) book The climate war: True believers, power brokers, and the fight to save the Earth, and in a September 2012 climate change report by the NewsHour on PBS. Even if we found that being a ‘climate denier’ is always presented as undesirable and being a ‘climate believer’ is always presented as desirable, both expressions still represent climate change science as if it were religion, superstition or a conspiracy.
How Social Actors Are Constructed Regarding the representation of social actors in terms of agency and responsibility, discourse analysts can benefit from Hulme’s (2009) discussion of the question “who governs climate?”—that is, which level of government is responsible, and how the interests of various parties, including nonhuman life, are to be represented. Turnhout et al. (2015) take this up in the context of the governance of the European Union. Fløttum and Gjerstad (2013) show how the South African government “assumes the role of main hero in its own climate change ‘story.’ ” In a study of world leaders’ construction of responsibility, Kuha (2007) finds in six of the eight speeches analyzed that speakers tended to highlight their own nations’ low
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greenhouse gas emissions while protesting other countries’ high emissions, to present small changes or future plans as major accomplishments, and to proclaim their commitment to action in general terms only, while giving other nations specific tasks to do. Related to the issue of how social actors are constructed in terms of agency and responsibility is the question of which social actors do, in reality, have a voice in political discussions of environmental issues. Lester (2010) discusses the practices that influence the extent of participation of various entities. In their study of witness selection for committees in the U.S. Congress, Park et al. (2010) found that Democrats were more likely to invite environmental scientists, whereas Republicans were more likely to invite industrial scientists. As to the matter of how social actors construct their identities, Teo (2004) finds that the government of Singapore was successful in getting people to take on a national identity in which environmental conservation has an important role. Krzyżanowski (2015) discusses the construction of the European Union’s identity as a global leader regarding climate change.
Environmental Discourse in the Language of Politics: Practical Implications Sometimes the connections between policy language and outcomes are clear. Zannakis (2015) investigates what enabled Sweden to aim for, and implement, greater reductions in emissions than required by international agreements, and argues that the answer is the formation of “discourse coalitions,” that is, coalitions of entities that may differ in political orientations and yet find common ground in one or more ‘story lines.’ Regrettably, recent research also documents cases of discourse being linked to outcomes that are undesirable from an environmental standpoint. Such a connection was demonstrated by Lehrer and Becker in the case of an influential farm bill in the United States: “a rhetorical move equating biofuels production with clean energy, rural development and national security obscured differences between types of biofuels production and subverted a prior discourse of competitiveness that had favored consideration of subsidy reform” (2010: 652). In Turkey, the government was successful in representing protesters who opposed the construction of hydroelectric power plants as criminals, thereby securing public support for the plants and for the suppression of dissent as well (cf. Ozen, 2014). In the United States, senators pushing the Climate Stewardship Act (CSA) of 2003 used the rhetorical strategy of prolepsis so much “that they mistakenly downplayed the economic arguments against the Act” (Besel, 2012). Nerlich (2010: 436) explains how ‘Climategate,’ the debate that raged in blogs and mainstream media following the unauthorized publication in 2009 of climate scientists’ e-mail messages, “may have damaged public understanding of science and science-based public policy.” A less impactful outcome emerged in Norway’s climate policy, Tellmann (2012) found. In this case, political variation in the preferred frame did not have a practical impact; rather, what mattered in practice was that, when the time came to implement policy, all parties turned to environmental taxes as the instrument of choice. Similarly, Cotton et al. (2014) found that options analyzed for framing shale gas in the UK actually did not influence policy outcomes greatly. When evaluating the impacts of environmental discourse, an interesting and often overlooked factor is whether discourse, after being revised to fit changing circumstances, reaches all constituents. Krzyżanowski (2013) argues that the discourse of climate change policy in the European Union shifted between 2007 and 2011, starting out crisis-oriented and moving 254
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to an economy-based frame; however, the language used to communicate with the public did not change. A final research area is environmental awareness and attitudes, which are crucial to understand, as they are likely to shape environmental behaviors, and at the same time challenging to study, not being directly observable. On the basis of a content analysis of congressional hearings, Fisher, Leifeld and Iwaki (2013) have a revelation that may surprise those who follow U.S. politics: the 109th Congress in the United States was polarized on climate change on a partisan basis, but the 110th was not! That is, there was much more partisan agreement on the science of climate change, but polarization on what policy to implement to counter it and what the economic consequences would be (Fisher et al., 2013).
Key Points From These Areas of Research What stands out most in this research is how complex the political, social and scientific issues involved are. Economic considerations often arise, sometimes in apparent opposition to environmental concerns. Not surprisingly, we see in the research earlier how political entities at various levels struggle to get power and keep it and that discourse choices matter in this struggle. Governments sometimes manage to implement policies that lead to positive environmental outcomes, but sometimes their priorities seem to be somewhere else altogether.
Main Research Methods Often, some form of critical discourse analysis (CDA) is used. As Van Dijk (2015) explains, CDA is not a specific analytical method, but “a critical perspective”; “critical discourse analysts take an explicit position and thus want to understand, expose, and ultimately challenge social inequality” (p. 466). This means that CDA is compatible with the other approaches outlined in this section, bringing a critical dimension to them. A related approach, the discourse-historical approach (DHA), is detailed by Reisigl and Wodak (2009). Their helpful chapter provides a convenient toolkit, explaining a systematic, step-by-step method for analyzing linguistic devices while also including in the analysis the communicative purposes of the text being studied. As discussed earlier, frame analysis is an extremely useful and fruitful approach. Those students of language who are new to framing and environmental discourse would benefit from reading an overview such as the chapter by Lakoff (2010) mentioned earlier, in order to avoid approaching frames as superficial linguistic phenomena, and consult the studies mentioned in the “Framing” section to see how other researchers identified the frames in the texts they analyzed and which frames are most frequent in these genres. Analyzing the representation of social actors in discourse is also highly relevant in the language of politics. See van Leeuwen’s (1996) discussion, with ample examples, on how to determine various aspects of representation: which role (an agent, an entity affected by the action, etc.) does the text attribute to an entity? Is the entity referred to in terms of an activity—for example, by naming the person’s profession? Is the reference generic or specific, personal or impersonal? Political speeches are often peppered with metaphors, and attending to them can be very illuminating. Some may be impressively evocative, but metaphorical language is such an inherent, pervasive part of interaction that it can be a challenge for an analyst to see the metaphorical nature of common expressions. Kövecses (2002) explains metaphor (in the 255
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cognitive sense, which is what is of interest to us here) in a wonderfully accessible way without sacrificing substance. Armed with ideas from Kövecses, a researcher can keep in mind that human beings are prone to talking about abstract ideas metaphorically as if they were a simpler, more tangible thing—and abstractions are, of course, the very things that it is a politician’s job to discuss: the economy, the future, complex social contracts of various kinds and so on. As analysts, we can read the text under consideration very slowly, word by word; for each content word, consider its literal dictionary definition, and ask yourself: does it have that literal meaning here? For example, in his 2015 State of the Union address, President Obama took up climate change and said: “I’ve heard some folks try to dodge the evidence by saying they’re not scientists.” Consider dodge. Do people literally dodge evidence? No, they dodge projectiles, physical objects thrown at them. Literally speaking, evidence is not the kind of thing that can be dodged. So, in this sentence, the president is metaphorically presenting climate change discourse as something more tangible than an exchange of information. (At this point, consulting a list of commonly occurring metaphors—in Kövecses, 2002, for example—can be helpful.) This process in itself is entirely ordinary, but what is interesting is that language users often have several metaphors to choose from. Exchanges of information are sometimes referred to in terms of building construction, for example, but the president opted to refer to climate change discourse in terms of a more adversarial situation—sports or warfare. When researchers find it relevant to take into account the social structures in their participants’ lives, the concepts we traditionally go to in linguistics are social networks or communities of practice. However, on the basis of the research reviewed in this chapter, it does seem that mapping participants’ information networks might yield even better insights; it may also be more practical, since the high-profile people we may want to study may be accessible to us only through their public statements. Fisher, Leifeld and Iwaki (2013) outline the network analysis technique; similarly, Jasny et al. (2015) demonstrate how to model an echo chamber. Strictly speaking, these procedures do not constitute linguistic analysis, as language is only a means to carry out content analysis. However, these approaches can help us with the interpretation of linguistic data. For example, Jasny et al. explain that echo chambers can amplify voices, whether dissenting from the majority position or converging with it, so that a fringe position may appear to be widely held. The authors point out why this matters: their model may explain “why conservative political actors continue to discuss climate change as undecided when, by all reasonable measures, the scientific community has reached consensus” (2015: 3). Clearly, this insight is a very helpful basis for analyzing discourse produced by members of this echo chamber.
Recommendations for Practice Some politically salient instances of environmental discourse were listed near the beginning of this chapter. Here are some additional suggestions for materials that can be used to generate research ideas and put into practice some of the analytical approaches described earlier. •
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Capitolwords (http://capitolwords.org) can be used to search for environmentally or politically interesting words in the Congressional Record, all the speeches given by lawmakers on the floor of the U.S. House or Senate. Results will be broken down by party, and frequency of use over time will be shown in a graph. For example, a quick search shows that Republicans mention freedom and liberty more often than Democrats do, and Democrats mention rights and responsibility more often than Republicans do.
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•
• •
The Nonhuman Rights Project (www.nonhumanrights.org/) is “the only civil rights organization in the United States working to achieve actual LEGAL rights for members of species other than our own.” Their updates on court cases regarding the legal standing of certain chimpanzees are interesting material for analyzing the representation of social agents, because some nonhuman social agents are involved. Yale Climate Connections (www.yaleclimateconnections.org/) “is a nonpartisan, multimedia service providing . . . reporting, commentary, and analysis.” Many of their news items are politically relevant, and can be examined in terms of framing, labeling, etc. On September 30, 2015, Costa Rica’s President Rivera addressed the General Assembly of the United Nations. The construction of social agents is worth analyzing in this speech, particularly the construction of responsibility, as the president singles out specific nations for certain comments in his speech.
Future Directions Fortunately for linguists looking for a paper topic, much research remains to be done on environmental topics in the language of politics. In January 2014, the editors of the Journal of Language and Politics encouraged authors to submit papers on climate change communication, among other topics of great interest. A few specific gaps can be mentioned. In terms of genres, much more work is needed on how environmental topics are addressed (if at all) in the language of political campaigning, and on how this relates to actual policy initiatives once the candidate is in office. In terms of approaches, audience design, communication accommodation and stance taking would surely be very interesting ways of looking at the genres reviewed here, and it is surprising that such research does not seem to exist yet. In terms of topics, the status of nonhuman animals has been discussed, but perhaps not in a political context—and, as mentioned earlier, this is a topic that can be seen as having a political dimension. Finally, Fløttum (2013: 289) recommends that “linguistic and discursive studies should be undertaken in collaboration with both social and natural sciences in truly integrated and interdisciplinary approaches.”
Related Topics Several contributions in the current volume can inform our analysis of political discourse as it relates to environmental topics. Chapters 13 and 15 provide useful analytical tools. Contributions that suggest possible topics to focus on when analyzing political discourse include Chapters 18 and 19.
Acknowledgment Thanks are due to Taylor Wicker for designing the timeline graphic (Figure 16.1).
Further Reading Chilton, P. (2004), Analysing Political Discourse: Theory and Practice. London: Routledge. Among other insights, this book offers a framework for systematically mapping out and representing visually the various entities and events mentioned in a speech. Fløttum, K. (2010), ‘A Linguistic and discursive view on climate change discourse’, ASp: La Revue Du GERAS, 58: 19–37. 257
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This article is a helpful model, systematically attending to linguistic elements both at the micro and macro level. Hansen, A. and Cox, R. (eds.) (2015), The Routledge Handbook of Environment and Communication. New York: Routledge. Many chapters in this volume take up the treatment of environmental topics in journalism, which, as indicated at the beginning of this chapter, can fit into the domain of the language of politics. Toke, D. (2000), Green Politics and Neoliberalism. Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan. This volume is a valuable reference offering an in-depth look at how power relates to environmental policy discourse, highlighting the role of scientists and environmental groups.
References Beard, A. (2000), The Language of Politics. London: Routledge. Besel, R. (2012), ‘Prolepsis and the environmental rhetoric of congressional politics: Defeating the climate stewardship Act of 2003’, Environmental Communication, 6(2): 233–249. Cap, P. and Okulska, U. (2013), ‘Analyzing genres in political communication: An introduction’, in P. Cap and U. Okulska (eds.), Analyzing Genres in Political Communication. Amsterdam: John Benjamins, pp. 1–26. Charteris-Black, J. (2005), Politicians and Rhetoric: The Persuasive Power of Metaphor. New York: Palgrave Macmillan. Cotton, M., Rattle, I. and Van Alstine, J. (2014), ‘Shale gas policy in the United Kingdom: An argumentative discourse analysis’, Energy Policy, 73: 427–438. Fairclough, N. (2006), ‘Genres in political discourse’, in K. Brown (ed.), Encyclopedia of Language and Linguistics. 2nd edition. Volume 5. Amsterdam: Elsevier, pp. 32–38. Fischhendler, I. and Katz, D. (2013), ‘The use of “security” jargon in sustainable development discourse: Evidence from UN commission on sustainable development’, International Environmental Agreements: Politics, Law and Economics, 13(3): 321–342. Fischhendler, I. and Nathan, D. (2014), ‘In the name of energy security: The struggle over the exportation of Israeli natural gas’, Energy Policy, 70: 152–162. Fisher, D. R., Leifeld, P. and Iwaki, Y. (2013), ‘Mapping the ideological networks of American climate politics’, Climatic Change, 116: 523–545. Fisher, D. R., Waggle, J. and Leifeld, P. (2013), ‘Where does political polarization come from? Locating polarization within the U.S. climate change debate’, American Behavioral Scientist, 57(1): 70–92. Fletcher, A. L. (2009), ‘Clearing the air: The contribution of frame analysis to understanding climate policy in the United States’, Environmental Politics, 18: 800–816. Fløttum, K. (2013), ‘Narratives in reports about climate change’, in M. Gotti and C. Sancho Guinda (eds.), Narratives in Academic and Professional Genres. Bern: Peter Lang Publishing Group, pp. 277–292. Fløttum, K. and Gjerstad, Ø. (2013), ‘Arguing for climate policy through the linguistic construction of narratives and voices: The case of the South-African green paper “National Climate Change Response” ’, Climatic Change, 118(2): 417–430. Hulme, M. (2009), Why We Disagree About Climate Change: Understanding Controversy, Inaction and Opportunity. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Jasny, L., Waggle, J. and Fisher, D. R. (2015), ‘An empirical examination of echo chambers in US climate policy networks’, Nature Climate Change. 5: 782–786. Kövecses, Z. (2002), Metaphor: A Practical Introduction. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Krzyżanowski, M. (2013), ‘Policy, policy communication and discursive shifts: Analyzing EU policy discourses on climate change’, in P. Cap and U. Okulska (eds.), Analyzing Genres in Political Communication. Amsterdam: John Benjamins, pp. 101–135. Krzyżanowski, M. (2015), ‘International leadership re-/constructed? Ambivalence and heterogeneity of identity discourses in European Union’s policy on climate change’, Journal of Language and Politics, 14(1): 110–133. 258
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Kuha, M. (2007), ‘Acceptance and avoidance of responsibility in world leaders’ statements about climate change’, Language and Ecology, 2(3). www.ecoling.net/articles Kuha, M. (2013, June 16), ‘Deniers, believers, and warmists: Framing climate science as superstition or conspiracy’, Paper presented at the 19th International Interdisciplinary Conference on the Environment, Portland, OR. Lakoff, G. (2002), Moral Politics: How Liberals and Conservatives Think. 2nd edition. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Lakoff, G. (2010), ‘Why it matters how we frame the environment’, Environmental Communication, 4(1): 70–81. Lehrer, N. and Becker, D. R. (2010), ‘Shifting paths to conservation: Policy change discourses and the 2008 US farm bill’, Journal of Environmental Planning and Management, 53(5): 639–655. Lester, L. (2010), Media and Environment: Conflict, Politics and the News. Cambridge: Polity Press. Littlefield, S. R. (2013), ‘Security, independence, and sustainability: Imprecise language and the manipulation of energy policy in the United States’, Energy Policy, 52: 779–788. Nerlich, B. (2010), ‘ “Climategate”: Paradoxical metaphors and political paralysis’, Environmental Values, 19: 419–442. Nielsen, T. (2014), ‘The role of discourses in governing forests to combat climate change’, International Environmental Agreements: Politics, Law and Economics 14(3): 265–280. Ozen, H. (2014), ‘Overcoming environmental challenges by antagonizing environmental protesters: The Turkish government discourse against anti-hydroelectric power plants movements’, Environmental Communication, 8(4): 433–451. Park, H. S., Xinsheng, L. and Vedlitz, A. (2010), ‘Framing climate policy debates: Science, network, and U.S. Congress, 1976–2007’, Conference Proceedings of the Policy Networks Conference 2010. Paper 41, http://opensiuc.lib.siu.edu/pnconfs_2010/41/ Pooley, E. (2010), The Climate War: True Believers, Power Brokers, and the Fight to Save the Earth. New York: Hyperion. Reisigl, M. and Wodak, R. (2009), ‘The Discourse-Historical Approach (DHA)’, in R. Wodak and M. Meyer (eds.), Methods of Critical Discourse Analysis. 2nd edition. London: Sage, pp. 87–122. Stephenson, E., Doukas, A. and Shaw, K. (2012), ‘Greenwashing gas: Might a “transition fuel” label legitimize carbon-intensive natural gas development?’, Energy Policy, 46: 452–459. Tellmann, S. M. (2012), ‘The constrained influence of discourses: The case of Norwegian climate policy’, Environmental Politics, 21(5): 734–752. Teo Chin Soon, P. (2004), ‘ “Clean and green ‒ That’s the way we like it”: Greening a country, building a nation’, Journal of Language and Politics, 3(3): 485–505. Toke, D. (2000), Green Politics and Neoliberalism. Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan. Turnhout, E., Behagel, J., Ferranti, F. and Beunen, R. (2015), ‘The construction of legitimacy in European nature policy: Expertise and participation in the service of cost-effectiveness’, Environmental Politics, 24(3): 461–480. Van Dijk, T. A. (2015), ‘Critical discourse analysis’, in D. Tannen, H. E. Hamilton and D. Schiffrin (eds.), The Handbook of Discourse Analysis. 2nd edition. Vol. II. Malden, MA: Wiley Blackwell, pp. 466–485. van Leeuven, T. (1996), ‘The representation of social actors’, in C. R. Caldas-Coulthard and M. Coulthard (eds.), Texts and Practices: Readings in Critical Discourse Analysis. London: Routledge, pp. 32–70. Zannakis, M. (2015), ‘The blending of discourses in Sweden’s “urge to go ahead” in climate politics’, International Environmental Agreements: Politics, Law and Economics, 15(2): 217–236.
Political Speeches and Texts Used Hansen, J. (1988), Greenhouse Effect and Global Climate Change: Oral Testimony of James Hansen. Hearing before the Committee on Energy and Natural Resources, United States Senate, one hundredth Congress: First session on the greenhouse effect and global climate change, Part 2. Washington, DC: U.S. Government Printing Office. 259
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President Carter’s energy policy speech (1977, April 18), www.pbs.org/wgbh/americanexperience/ features/primary-resources/carter-energy/ President Obama’s State of the Union address (2015, January 20), www.cnn.com/2015/01/20/politics/ state-of-the-union-2015-transcript-full-text/ President Rivera’s address to the United Nations (2015, September 30), http://presidencia.go.cr/ prensa/comunicados/si-se-pueden-construir-sociedades-sostenibles/
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17 Eco-Advertising The Linguistics and Semiotics of Green(-Washed) Persuasion Hartmut Stöckl and Sonja Molnar
Introduction Eco-linguistics and semio-linguistic advertising research intersect in a variety of key areas. Most importantly, advertising as a social system revolves verbally and visually around the promotion of commodities/services; many of which are bound up with ecological concerns. Although some products may indeed be conducive to the environment, i.e., when they save energy or reduce pollution, others (mis)use the semantic engineering of advertising discourse in order to appear ‘green’—a strategy that, perhaps somewhat too critically, has been called greenwashing or greening (Howlett and Raglon, 1992). If we think of our ecology as comprising more than just nature, but instead as the totality of our social and cultural environment, we must also consider noncommercial and social advertising. This includes campaigns against torture, mobbing, organ trading, child labor, internet crime, drunk driving, etc., as well as campaigns for wildlife or child protection, cancer screening etc., which show “the role of language in the development and aggravation of environmental (and other societal) problems” (Fill and Mühlhäusler, 2001, p. 43)). (cf. sect. II/A in this handbook) The present chapter aims to characterize the large discourse domain that we label ecoadvertising in an eco-linguistic and genre-based approach. The second section outlines the genre-ecology of advertising, transferring some of the conceptual properties of ecology— e.g. interrelationships, diversity, competition, vitality, sustainability, survival, shifts and change, within a system—to the “interactions between [. . .] [advertising] language and its environment” (Haugen, 2001: 57). The third section provides a comprehensive account of the chapter’s terminology, previous research, as well as the genre’s historical development. After a concise classification of eco-advertising into three dominant groups of text (see the section “Genre-Space: A Typology of Eco-advertising” later), each of these sub-genres is analyzed in greater detail. The final section, which briefly summarizes the main arguments of this chapter, concludes with some suggestions for future research.
Genre-Ecology: A Characteristic of Advertising Before spelling out some of the implications inherent in a genre-ecological view of advertising, we would like to briefly explain our view of genre, as this is a contested concept often 261
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conflated but compatible with register and style. Following current functionalist notions, a genre is a type of text characterized by a particular setting, a distinctive communicative function—which reflects in an ordered series of communicative stages—recognizable linguistic (and pictorial, inter-modal) patterns and overall norms of thematic, pragmatic and stylistic organization. Martin and Rose (2008: 6), thus define genres as a “recurrent configuration of meanings” that “enact the social practices of a given culture.” Guided by functional-linguistic and social semiotic views, we agree that social context is “the total environment in which a text unfolds” (Halliday, 1978: 5). As part of an overall genre ecology, i.e., a system of different genres, which make up the total communicative repertoire of a culture, our linguistic ecology, therefore, is a combination of genres interacting in a social system; some of them growing in importance due to their vitality, others being on the wane to be pushed out of use and dying one day. This concept further entails that advertising is internally differentiated and shows remarkable within-genre diversity. Not only does advertising display outbound links in the genre-ecology, i.e., an interrelatedness to thematically linked texts such as corporate technical documents or editorial product reviews or tests, but it also demonstrates considerable inbound genre variation. The resulting sub-genres originate in the diversification of medium (e.g., billboard, commercial, tweet), theme (e.g., watches vs. snacks), function (e.g., commercial vs. social campaign; product vs. corporate image ad), and style (e.g., technical vs. humorous, argumentative vs. narrative). What we would like to call eco-advertising or green(-washed) persuasion, then, is a whole network of related advertising sub-genres, which can be linguistically described on a number of analytical levels. A fundamental question here is how distinct or similar eco-advertising is in comparison to mainstream non-green advertising. Adopting Haugen’s “ecological questions” (Haugen, 2001: 65), let us now characterize the eco-linguistic status of the (eco-)advertising genre. 1. Classification Within the genre-ecology, advertising can be classified using accepted categories of genre description such as prototypical content, structure, language style and function. We may typify advertisements as texts which characterize and evaluate a brand or product/service, which split into various functional elements such as claim, slogan, argument/description/story, visuals etc., favor positively connoted lexis and simple syntax, and pursue broadly ameliorative, persuasive and argumentative text functions (Stöckl, 2004: 234–242). 2. Sociodemographics of its users The advertising genre is marked out by a group of text producers, who within the highly professionalized social framework of advertising agencies work to the brief of a client. Large budgets are used to generate a maximally potent message in a minimum of public space or broadcasting time. This strategic text production process is contrasted by a usually fleeting reception of advertising messages on the part of the recipient, who often shuns advertising and may read what is supposed to be a clear sales message in many different ways. Genre-ecologically, advertising thus bridges an often uncooperative rift between text producer and recipient, which further creates an ecological paradox: many resources are squandered to produce redundant messages whose actual communicative and marketing effect cannot be reliably measured. Nonetheless, advertising has become 262
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an integral part of public communication and enjoys an almost total sociodemographic differentiation and distribution across cultures. 3. Domains of use Unlike other language varieties, advertising discourse shows an almost universal use. Any commodity/service can be advertised, which reflects the thematic breadth of the genre. Also, despite the stylistic variation following domains of use, most advertisements are directed at a potentially large audience. 4. Internal varieties Linguistic advertising styles are conditioned by domain (thematic field, advertised product), audience (age groups), and function (attracting attention for vs. explaining the product). Moreover, advertising language may employ all kinds of sociolinguistic variation, e.g., region (dialects), time (archaisms vs. neologisms), integration (native vs. foreign), medium (written/spoken), evaluative stance (ironic), norm (standard/substandard), subject-field (computing). It is the internal differentiation of the genre and its diversity of linguistic styles that promotes its vitality and public appeal. 5. Written tradition Advertising started out in early cultures as street cries or public announcements—a tradition that lives on in the traveling salesperson. Not until the advent of printing, however, did advertising begin to be established as a written genre. Its regularization regarding conventional rules and moves towards standardization of text structure and linguistic style developed in the 19th century with the emergence of advertising agencies. From then on, advertising has undergone an enormous medial proliferation and diversification—from newspapers/magazine over billboards, radio, television to the Internet, social media and other new ambient media. It can safely be argued that it is exactly because of its diversified media-use that advertising is genre-ecologically so vital and competitive. The genre has successfully managed to conquer every new medium, adapted its structures and styles to various medial logics and keeps thriving in all of them. 6. Standardization Without doubt the pragmatic situation of advertising exerts a unifying influence on the language practiced in the genre—this is why we speak of (standard) advertising language, which reflects among other features in the simplicity of the verb phrase, the complexity of the noun phrase and an excessive amount of positively descriptive/evaluative and highly connotative lexis. Nevertheless, its linguistic variability as well as its historical changeability is tremendous (Stöckl, 2014); so much so that in the respective situation any even minimal combination of signs can be interpreted as an advertising message. Normative claims regarding its grammatical and lexical features, therefore, do well to consider the internal variation of the genre. 7. Institutional support Just as languages depend on an infrastructure to effect language policy and planning, genres are also part of ‘glottopolitics’ (Haugen, 2001: 65). Advertising enjoys a very powerful institutional support by the media, i.e., agencies and companies; one providing 263
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public space, the other financing it. In this fashion, the genre is firmly woven into the social fabric of free-market societies. The wide and frequent distribution of commercial messages lends advertising and its linguistic styles a prominent status in the genreecology with much power to influence related genres, e.g., editorial content, which is heavily affected by promotional concerns (‘hybridization of genres’). The institutional stronghold of advertising has not only led to genre imperialism, but also to classic linguistic imperialism (cf. Chapter 8 in this handbook). English dominates global advertising to a degree that has pushed national languages to the margins—an eco-linguistic effect that cannot be excused easily by the beneficial role of English as a lingua franca. 8. Attitudes of the users towards the genre From an ethno-linguistic viewpoint, speakers judge advertising as a genre just as they develop attitudes to language varieties. Here, however, it seems that the spectrum includes everything from total rejection or ignorance of advertising messages, over their purely functional appreciation, up to aesthetic enjoyment. On the one hand, advertisements are regarded as trash polluting public communication, while on the other hand they are treasured as pop-cultural icons and put on display in museums and bibliophile collections. Summing up the eco-linguistic characteristics of advertising, we can say that it is a socioculturally dominant and thriving genre. This is mainly thanks to its wide and frequent distribution, its professional and strategic production, its genre-internal diversity, its medial flexibility, its linguistic/semiotic variability and its strong institutional support. Still, the unequal power balance between strategic professional production and un-/subconscious reception must not be disregarded. Eco-advertising toys with its varied ‘shades of green’— representing companies that truly devote themselves and their corporate goals to the adoption of green practices, others that care about their ecological responsibility and profits in equal measure and those who mainly seek to maximize profits, but pretend a green profile to ensure them (Banerjee et al., 1995: 22; Ongkrutraksa, 2007: 368).
Genre-Definition: Eco-Advertising vs. Greenwashing Eco-advertising or green advertising, as a sub-genre of advertising, seeks to promote products/services by either • • •
explicitly or implicitly address[ing] the relationship between a product/service and the biophysical environment [,] promot[ing] a green lifestyle with or without highlighting a product/service, present[ing] a corporate image of environmental responsibility. (Banerjee et al., 1995: 22).
Green-washed advertising, on the contrary, constitutes the act of disseminating false, vague or misleading information to consumers with the deliberate aim to present a company’s environmental practices or a product’s/service’s ecological benefits in a more favorable (green/ecologically responsible) light (Baum, 2012: 425; Ongkrutraksa, 2007: 374). Similar to the metaphorical concept of whitewashing, this marketing strategy attempts to color products/services or businesses of often minimal or even negative environmental impact
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with a green appeal. Such ‘greening’ is often achieved by diverting consumer attention from a product’s major environmental flaws towards its minor ecological benefits. Another common method is to promote products/services with vague, exaggerated or unsubstantiated green claims or false eco-labels. A recent investigation of 247 print advertisements purports that 75% of U.S. ads and 52% of UK ads apply one or more of these greenwashing tactics (Baum, 2012). These figures are expected to increase in future due to the heightened demand for ecologically responsible products and the lack of advertising regulation (Baum, 2012). It should thus not be surprising that buyers have become more suspicious of environmental marketing; especially because green advertising and greenwashing are difficult to distinguish. Nonetheless, this advertising trend is not as new as is often asserted. References to nature have been used in advertising to create “sense[s] of goodness and innocence” since the late 19th century (Hansen, 2002: 501). Ivory soap was promoted as ‘99 44/100% pure’ (first 1882), Cadbury’s Cocoa ‘[o]f absolute purity and freedom from alkali’ (1894), Heinz Ketchup as ‘nature’s best’ (1910) and Bushmills Whisky was made of ‘nothing but the best malted barley’ (1889) (Vries, 1968: 24, 133; Howlett and Raglon, 1992: 62). Later on, other product categories such as clothing, automobiles and electronics followed. [B]usinesses have [. . .] attempted to associate their products with aspects of the natural world [. . .] by creating analogies between their products and “nature,” by appeal to the “natural” properties of their products, by using natural objects symbolically, and by forging product identities through close association with animals or other natural objects. (Howlett and Raglon, 1992: 55) Up until the 1950s, advertisements frequently pictured pastoral scenes in order to evoke feelings of nostalgia and natural goodness (Howlett and Raglon, 1992: 56; Hansen, 2015: 274). Green advertising as we know it today, however, did not emerge until the 1970s when the desired image of a corporation drastically changed. Whereas the preferred businesses of the 1930s and 1950s represented technologically advanced, nature-defying enterprises, the environmental concerns of the 1970s forced industries to position themselves as “friends of nature” (Howlett and Raglon, 1992: 64). Depictions of industrial plants, which had symbolized progress and innovation before, became suddenly associated with pollution and destruction; views which had only strengthened by the 1990s (Howlett and Raglon, 1992: 56). Landscapes, on the contrary, were established to denote high-quality, genuine, authentic products and are still regarded to do so today (Hansen, 2002: 503). Marketing experts, hence, frequently rely on the illustration/visualization of the idyllic wild in contemporary advertisements. This is particularly true for those product categories that can portray “nature as the embodiment of health, purity and freshness [. . .] [or allude] to the restorative powers of nature” such as cosmetic brands, food and cleaning agents (Hansen, 2002: 507–508). Other industries may opt to contradict the conventionalized romantic view of nature by presenting it as a threat, e.g., slippery roads, nasty mosquitoes (Hansen, 2002: 503–504). One of the most influential driving forces of the eco-marketing trend is its financial merit. In 1991, “20% of the U.S. population [were] active green consumers, willing to pay on average 7% more for ecologically-friendly products” ( Ongkrutraksa, 2007: 367). A comparable study of European and U.S. consumers in 2012 documented that this group had by then grown to more than 70% (Miremadi et al., 2012, n.p.). The increased demand as well as sales of eco-products have thus established a lucrative market niche. An additional benefit
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of eco-marketing is its psychological effect. Spack et al. (2012) demonstrated that the mere presence of nature images positively affects brand identity and ultimately purchase intent. Similarly, Hartmann and Apaolaza-Ibanez (2009) observed that the depiction of nature successfully enhances brand perception and attitude by evoking ‘virtual nature experiences’ in the consumer’s mind. Due to “humans’ preference for environments with natural elements over those that are predominantly built” visual cues of untouched sceneries were found to trigger positive emotional responses, which may stem from an innate primeval attraction to nature (Hartmann and Apaolaza-Ibanez, 2009: 720; Spack et al., 2012; Mattes et al., 2014; cf. Wilson, 1984, for specifics on the biophilia hypothesis). Another explanation for human’s preference of ‘greenery’ could be rooted in the historically conditioned view of nature as romantic and nostalgic (Hansen, 2015: 271). The ideological power of media discourse, particularly of television, must not be underestimated in this respect, although its representation of the environment is rather naturalized than naturalistic, i.e., rather producing idealistic notions of a natural landscape instead of reflecting its true form (Hall, 1982: 75). This ‘naturalization’ of commerce has led to a “semiotic [and semantic] linking of a (romanticized) view of nature with a (rural) idyllic past with national identity” (Hansen, 2015: 271, emphasis as in original)—a trend that could also be labeled ‘eco-ization.’ Despite the continued prominence of eco-advertising, linguistic research on its textual and visual rhetoric remains moderately scarce. Most studies have explored the topic from a marketing-oriented and psychological perspective, focusing on the effectiveness as well as deceptiveness of green campaigns. Carlson et al. (1996), Hartmann and Apaolaza-Ibanez (2009, 2010), TerraChoice (2010), Mattes et al. (2014), to name just a few, all reach the conclusion that environmental elements in ads affect the perceptual image of a product, which in turn wields positive influences on consumers’ purchase behavior. An in-depth examination of the genre has so far merely been conducted on a content level. Whereas nonprofit organizations (social advertising) seem to favor an emotional, often shocking appeal to encourage greener living, for-profit companies (commercial advertising) appear to concentrate on their corporate image in order to manifest their sustainability claims (Banerjee et al., 1995: 10). The truth value of these promotional messages, however, is rather minimal—37.7% of the eco-claims in British and American magazines, for instance, were found to contain vague if not vapid terminology (Baum, 2012: 433). The historical development of nature advertising has been sketched from 1910 to the present in terms of volume and imagery (Howlett and Raglon, 1992). Further research on the design and graphical aesthetics of eco-ads can be found in Spack et al. (2012) and Popa and Petrovici (2014). A product-centered approach to green advertising has been applied by Hansen (2002), who investigated the British TV landscape. Apart from Hansen (2010, 2015), who provides a broader account of the historical construction of nature and its depiction in the media, a detailed description of the genre’s predominant linguistic and semiotic patterns is not yet available (cf. Hartmann and Apaolaza-Ibanez, 2009, for a more detailed literature review).
Genre-Space: A Typology of Eco-Advertising Let us define the genre-space that we labeled eco- or green-washed advertising more explicitly. Our argument is that eco-advertising represents a group of sub-genres by virtue of having a specific content or theme, i.e., an environmentally friendly product/service or one promoted as such, and a specific text function, i.e., to make consumers ecologically aware and persuade them to favor green products. Instead of classifying eco-ads according to the four types of claims, i.e., product-related, process-related, image-related and environmental facts 266
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(Carlson et al., 1996), we propose to divide this public discourse domain into a network of three related sub-genres: 1. Green commercial advertising: This category comprises environmentally friendly or relevant products such as green energy, organically grown/ecologically produced foods, biodegradable detergents or low-consumption cars, to name a few. Moreover, we include those commercial advertisements for products/brands here which promote semi-green commodities, such as fruity soft drinks, sustainably produced clothing and technology, by establishing a direct link to nature- or environment-related imagery/ symbols. 2. Green-washed commercial advertising: This class includes advertisements for all nongreen products/services that are geared at deliberately disguising—‘greening’—their benefits or downplaying ecologically harmful effects of their use or manufacturing processes, e.g., car advertisements which foreground low-emission engines but hide high fuel consumption. It is characterized by a communicative intention to anticipate critical opinion and arguments that, if not deconstructed, will likely lead to a less favorable market performance. Advertising of this kind is also used when products and corporate images need to be washed green after brand damage from unecological behavior, e.g., emission scandals or toxic spills. 3. Green nonprofit/social advertising: This type contains all kinds of noncommercial campaigns aimed at raising ecological awareness and thereby calling on the recipient to support social action or adopt an eco-oriented opinion. Typical issues include animal rights, welfare and protection, reducing pollution or preserving wildlife and nature. Social advertising thus covers a wide and expanding range of topics—all united by the nonprofit nature of the campaigns and a desire to boost people to act on their environmental convictions (cf. sect. II/A in this handbook). As each of these categories merits closer examination, the following section provides exemplary analyses of selected international eco-advertisements from print and television.
Genre-Studies: A Semio-Linguistic Analysis of Eco-Advertisements The linguistics and semiotics of the advertising genre have been described on numerous levels—i.e., spelling, lexis/morphology, semantics, syntax, text linguistics, pragmatics, rhetoric, semiotics (e.g. Lombardo, 1999)—allowing for a number of analytical models to be proposed (e.g. Hennecke, 2012: 368–376; Stöckl, 2004). For reasons of space, we can only focus on those selected issues here which we believe are central to the characterization of eco-advertising. These are the overall structure and format of the texts, the multimodal development of themes and arguments in coherent text–image relations, the use of lexis and visual elements, as well as pragmatic techniques. As all eco-advertising sub-genres represent specific variants of persuasive, promotional communication, they are expected to show both commonalities and distinctive traits. Generally, persistent ad exposure with jaded consumers has led copy and art to be very conscious of their formats’ effectiveness. Easily recognizable symbols, ‘condensing symbols,’ are thus frequently used—nature being the most universal of all (Hansen, 2010: 138–139). To allow for a quicker processing of ad content, advertisers further reduce the verbal message to a bare minimum, concentrating more heavily on visual cues. The popularity of eco-oriented 267
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advertising may also be linked to the seemingly effortless integration of nature. As Hansen (2010: 140) observed ironically, green landscapes and arguments “blen[d] in ‘naturally’ ” and inconspicuously. Another trait of green advertisements is their semiotic flexibility and ideological power, which emanates from deeply rooted cultural and historical views. Without great effort eco-claims manage to activate notions of goodness, health, authenticity, purity and freshness or the destruction thereof (social advertising) (Hansen, 2010: 138– 140). These responses are intensified by the specific eco-design and eco-lect of the genre (Popa and Petrovici, 2014; Hansen, 2015: 271). Visually, green ads favor pastoral scenes, idyllic landscapes as well as earthy tones— green and brown to represent life, vegetation and freshness; blue to convey responsibility, faithfulness and calm through water and sky; white to signify purity, peace and virtue; and grey and black to denote pollution and industrialization. Natural shapes, e.g., waves, curves, light effects, floral motifs and organic decorations such as wood, leaves, paper, stones, plants or sand are further characteristics of environmental design (Popa and Petrovici, 2014: 75–76). Recently, the presence of eco-labels, e.g., ISO stamps, organic seals has gained in significance as well. Verbally, eco-advertising slogans prototypically encourage consumers to ‘go green’ or to buy a “100% environmentally friendly” product (Popa and Petrovici, 2014: 74). Terms such as eco-, organic, green, earth-friendly, carbon neutral, all natural, sustainable, local, less, responsible, protect, environment, energy, etc., are highly conventionalized (Baum, 2012: 426; Rooks, 2010: 4). The most popular word in green advertisements in 2011 was natural, following less in 2009 and green in 2007 (Rooks, 2010: 10–12). It has further been noted that greenwashing tends to shift from a verbal to a visual phenomenon—most likely because ‘green imagery’ is more subtle and legally safe(r) than ‘green language’ (Rooks, 2010: 7).
Green Commercial Advertising Apart from the food industry, which habitually offers “all natural” products that, e.g., promote health and are depicted in a green setting, the most typical goods in this sub-genre are beauty products, cleaning agents and technological devices (Howlett and Raglon, 1992: 62; Hansen, 2002: 507–508). The “totally organic experience” of herbal essences shampoo that “takes [consumers’] hair [straight] to paradise” or the “natural qualities” of Boots Botanics that “nourish, flourish, thrive, revive [. . .] with pure plant extracts” are just two exemplary sales arguments (Hansen, 2002: 507–509). A biodegradable detergent by Greenworks (2015) promotes its ecological value using a close-up image of a panda’s eye (black mark/pupil on white fur) (cf. Figure 17.1). The only verbal information is set in the top right corner, resembling two washing labels. The first claims that Some stains are not meant to disappear, whereas the second shows a bottle of Greenworks (product name) with the tagline ‘biodegradable cleaning products.’ This verbo-visual technique implicitly construes the argument that preserving nature has absolute priority and becomes possible thanks to the product’s qualities. The claim is made via the optical allusion playing on the ambiguity of cloth/artificial vs. fur/natural; the appeal is realized by the sympathetic animal’s look directed straight at the viewer. Its competitor, Method (2007), divides its ad into two parts: the picture of a three-eyed rubber duck in front of a tiled bathtub on the left and a spray-bottle followed by the verbal message on a light green background on the right. The text reads
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Figure 17.1 Panda’s eye Credits: Greenworks/Biodegradable Cleaning Products, Alma DDB, Miami (Lürzer’s Archive 4/2015, 69, 4.1535)
[P]protect your wetlands. Toxic spills happen more often than you think. If you use most bathroom cleaners, you’re spraying toxic chemicals that pollute not just your own environment, but the planet’s as well. The deictic personal reference in the headline (your wetlands) addresses the environmental responsibility of the consumer, calling them to action. A visualization of the negative impacts of toxic spills, should they not be minimized, is provided by the gene-mutated (rubber) duck—an obvious allusion to the need to protect wildlife from chemical pollutants. The solution is presented through the comparison of most bathroom cleaners with the kinder, gentler product. The varying earth-tones pictorially underline the ad’s eco-stance. In both cases, the effect of the ad depends primarily on the verbal message despite its visual focus on the image. Although the picture’s main intention is to catch consumers’ attention, to stir their imagination and to raise awareness for this particular issue, it is the text that explains the sales argument, i.e., that using the endorsed product helps protect the environment. The 90-second TV commercial for Toyota Prius (2009) expands this conventionalized structure using diverse implicit/explicit argumentative techniques. Starting with the authoritative argument that Toyota was (among) the first to produce green cars, the ad stresses that the brand already has an environmental reputation (“First created ten years ago. When the environment wasn’t quite so fashionable”). The text continues by ironically downplaying the efforts of rivaling manufacturers (“Everyone’s got a car that can help save the planet”) and by presenting the choice of a green car as a matter of consumers’ trust/beliefs (“But which one should we drive? Who can we believe?”). Adhering to customary car ad fashion,
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the TV commercial substantiates its product claims by selected technical arguments, e.g., “million enthusiastic owners, lowered emission by a gazillion”—however keeping an ironic distance. This plays into a generally understated, modest tone (“not as a solution but as brilliant work in progress”), which comes across as polite and casual. Finally, the text leads to the persuasive theme of ambition (“still not happy, the crazy idea that one day it will even clean the air”); culminating in the suggestive tone (“wouldn’t your biggest problem be to think you’ve cracked it”), which hedges a critique of other complacent car manufacturers. Quite aptly, this commercial shows the importance of strategic and ideologically cautious argument. Visually as well as acoustically, the commercial is rather simple and minimalist. The scenes are static with only limited camera movement, aiming to contrast lusciously green landscapes with grey concrete spaces. There is no speaker; instead, the verbal message is displayed in white print.
Green-Washed Commercial Advertising As previously mentioned, the borderline between commercial and green-washed commercial product advertising is fuzzy. The TerraChoice report (2010: 10) has thus listed the seven most common “sins of greenwashing” to be (1) hidden tradeoff, (2) no proof, (3) vagueness, (4) irrelevance, (5) lesser of two evils, (6) false labels and (7) fibbing (for a more detailed explanation and examples cf. Baum, 2012: 430–431). The automotive industry frequently commits sin (5) by, e.g., promoting a ‘fuel-efficient SUV’ or sin (3) as could be argued for the Toyota Prius (2009) ad. It must be noted, however, that we do not classify an ‘all natural’ cereal or ‘nontoxic’ detergent ad as green-washed solely on the account of lexical vagueness. To illustrate our view of green-washed commercial advertising, we chose two print adverts, one of Akala Footwear (2015) and one of Land Rover (2015), as well as a TV commercial for the Mazda CX-5 (2013). In both cases of print advertising, the relation between product and nature appears to stretch the truth in a controversial, if not deceptive, form. Both manufacturers seem to enrich their product’s value by establishing a connection to the environment, which we find rather ethically dubious. Akala (2015) depicts a Maasai warrior in the African steppe headed “A Maasai warrior can kill a lion rushing at him at 50 mph armed with a humble wooden club. Now is not the time for your shoes to fall apart” (cf. Figure 17.2). This image concentrates on earthy browns, contrasted by the bright red of the Maasai’s clothing and the headline in order to signify blood, but also survival. The product display on the right is underlined by the company’s slogan Extinction is the rule. Survival is the exception. Although the ad’s obvious aim is to highlight the shoes’ excellent quality, the implicit argument that they are based on the experience of the Indigenous people seems misleading. This is further heightened by the connection/contrast between the shoes’ longevity, thus securing ‘survival,’ and the struggles, implying the ‘extinction’ of the Indigenous African people. The Land Rover (2015) copy (cf. Figure 17.3) is equally deceptive. Linking the wrinkled and spotted hands of a human to the marks of a hyena, this ad challenges to “Find an even deeper connection”—presumably with the environment. The verbo-pictorial metaphor metonymically constructs the concept of affinity and perhaps even adventure (wild animals) that should be mapped onto the Land Rover and its driving experience. Yet again the idea of connecting to nature while travelling in a fuel-intensive sports utility vehicle that may harm the environment seems illogical. The Mazda CX-5 (2013) commercial also adorns its car with borrowed ‘green’ plumes. As part of a cross-product advertisement the TV commercial transports the new Mazda into the world of the Lorax, a fictional guardian of the forest. With happy animals passing by, 270
Figure 17.2 Maasai warrior Credits: Akala/Footwear, K63 Studio, Nairobi. © Osborne Macharia/ProKraft Africa (Lürzer’s Archive 4/2015, 53, 4.1510)
Figure 17.3 Spotted hands and marks of a hyena Credits: Land Rover, Y&R, New York (Lürzer’s Archive 4/2015, 28, 4.1542)
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the voice-over promises to “delive[r] outstanding fuel efficiency without compromising the joy of driving with sky-active technology” and that the car has “received the only certified truffula tree seal of approval.” Yet the latter eco-label is as imaginary as the truffula trees in the original Dr. Seuss book. The soundscape is framed by chirping birds and music that progresses from a few simple tones to a cheerful whistle to a gay lalala, before the Lorax finally promotes its movie in theaters—disclosing the cross-marketing use of the ad. Due to the false labeling and the use of intertextual references the commercial has been met with lots of criticism for praising an only moderately fuel-efficient car.
Green Nonprofit/Social Advertising In terms of content, social advertising is characterized by overtly environmental concerns, which are set out very economically in minimalistic and often implicit arguments that form the basis of public appeals for changes in awareness and for donating money. In the IFAWcampaign (2015) (cf. Figure 17.4) the ecological theme of protecting animals is set out as a visual fusion or contrast of technology (3-D printer) and nature (orangutan)—a conjunction of visual elements that might also be cast as the semantic opposition between producing (printing) and killing (orangutan = cut of meat). This pictorial meaning potential is taken up and referred to by the text: “If only they were this easy to produce.” Deictic expressions (e.g. they—orangutans; this easy—by printing) are generally vital for an explicit connection to be established between the two semiotic modes, as such words can point to visual elements and propositions. Not untypically, the social advertisement uses the provocative effect of
Figure 17.4 Orangutan = cut of meat Credits: IFAW/International Fund for Animal Welfare, Y&R, Paris ( Lürzer’s Archive 4/2015, 121, 4.1554)
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intentionally shocking imagery as a springboard to construing both a rational argument and/ or an appeal to action. The argument in the given case is primarily based on the pragmatic technique of presupposition; the hypothetical conditional “if only they were” forces the inference that monkeys (and by metonymic generalization, animals) are in fact not easily (re-)produced. What is more, the speech act of the claim is a wish, which by implication can be read as pleading for a change of mind and practical help. The everyday, conversational choice of lexis seems as typical of social advertising as the initialism to denote the rather complex and officious sounding name of the fund. Looking at another social advertisement by the Surfrider Foundation Europe (2015) (cf. Figure 17.5), which warns against the pollution of oceans, we find similar multimodal, semantic and pragmatic techniques at work. The image is again used for a subtle marshaling of concepts and their combination, which can then be utilized to construe a verbal or multimodal argument. Against the innocuous-looking ocean backdrop two visual signs— supermarket scanner (in the shape of a pistol) and turtle (by metonymy any sea animal)— form a visual scenario, which is interpreted as the verbal process of shooting/killing. The text (in the visual shape of a receipt) explicitly connects buying (cf. scanner as a visual metonym = killing) and paying (cf. being killed) as typical elements of the supermarket frame in a conditional cause–effect relation with a metaphorical reading of: you buy, the sea pays (the price). Humans and sea animals are construed in this syntactic construction as opposed yet connected entities: If you buy (the wrong things), you kill animals. This claim is substantiated by a fact expressed in numerical terms (“26 million tons of plastic packaging waste ends up in the ocean every year”). The conclusion comes in the form of a
Figure 17.5 Turtle and supermarket scanner Credits: Surfrider Foundation Europe, Y&R, Paris (Lürzer’s Archive 4/2015, 112, 3.1531)
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direct appeal to improve the situation by consuming responsibly not spelling out any concrete implications. Again it is the calculated fusion and semantic opposition of two domains (consumption and nature) managed by visual signs, which forms the basis of the rational argument. Pragmatically, the appeal is expressed in the form of an inclusive we as in “let’s change the way we consume.” Its illocutionary force is strengthened by the use of the direct address in the generic you (pay), which has the potential of instilling guilt in the reader. The lexical makeup of the text again caters for the everyday register, the complex name labels the noncommercial foundation. Summing up, it can be argued that social advertisements as a sub-genre of eco-advertising seem characterized by an economical, highly effective multimodal structuring of themes and arguments. These are based on visually realized semantic oppositions, juxtapositions and fusions, which also exploit the shocking effects of negative imagery (cf. Chapter 12 in this handbook). Deictic expressions and intermodal cohesive relations tie language and visual elements together into a brief claim. The latter is then used as the argumentative basis for an appeal to the reader, which is made directly or indirectly through appropriate speech acts and adequate techniques of inferences.
Conclusion This chapter has set out a genre-based approach to eco-advertising, arguing for a networked genre-space, which includes three sub-genres, (1) green commercial (product/brand-related), (2) green-washed and (3) social eco-advertising. Reviewing the history of the field and its scant treatment in linguistics, we put forward an analytical description that focuses on selected dimensions such as overall structure/format, thematic development and argumentation, text–image relations, lexis and pragmatic techniques. More in-depth empirical work will be needed to point out the differences between the three sub-genres, which could only be touched upon briefly through illustrative sample analyses. Although all eco-advertising genres demonstrated several commonalities—e.g., the use of ‘condensing symbols,’ a romanticized view of nature as pure and authentic, a conventionalized eco-design of scenes, colors and labels as well as a standardized eco-lect—the individual sub-genres revealed a variety of unique traits. Green commercial advertisements appeared to favor a comparative approach (most vs. this) in their argumentations and the overall premise that their product/service would relieve consumers’ from their environmental responsibilities. The direct address (you, your) stresses this personal involvement. A tendency to expand the argumentation by a variety of pragmatic techniques, e.g., ironic distance, understatement, suggestiveness could also be noticed. Green-washed commercials employed similar pragmatic strategies, but were marked by far-fetched (inter-textual) connections between their product/brand and nature through either elusive or exaggerated claims. Social advertisements preferred to shock their audience by visualizing a “green nightmare” (Hansen, 2010: 148). Their application of semantic opposition, pictorial metaphors (cf. Chapter 15 in this handbook) as well as hypothetical, often indirect conditionals accounts for the distinctiveness of this sub-genre. In future linguistic work on eco-advertising, some areas promise to be particularly interesting and profitable. First, concerning green commercial product/branded advertising it would be worth systematically investigating which linguistic devices and multimodal techniques can contribute to evoking environmental associations. On this basis a rationale for distinguishing truly green product from average commercial advertising merely using green imagery could be established. Second, green-washed advertising ought to be scrutinized
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especially for the structure of its arguments—particularly regarding efforts to anticipate counter-arguments and to effectively neutralize them. All kinds of pragmatic techniques are likely to play a central part in those argumentative strategies. Third, social advertising could be studied further with an eye to its minimalistic multimodal arguments and to the visual grammar of its shocking pictorial imagery. It would also be worthwhile to divide the field of social advertising into thematic sub-domains (e.g. wildlife protection vs. anti-drunk driving), as this would help pinpoint differing linguistic and multimodal techniques. These and similar linguistic efforts, which ought to be based on a broad cultural, eco-linguistic view of language and genre, are suited to rectifying a state of research that does not yet do justice to the significance of this growing subset of advertising communication.
Further Reading Baum, L. (2012) investigates greenwashing in U.S. and UK magazines based on the seven sins proposed by TerraChoice (2010). The results show that the frequency and types of greenwashing vary decisively across industries. Hansen, A. (2010) dedicates chapter 6 to “[s]elling ‘nature/the natural,’ ” providing a detailed analysis of nature in advertising—its construction, ideology, media use and links to national identity—as well as practical examples from the food sector. Hartmann, P. and Apaolaza-Ibanez, V. (2010) exposed 750 participants to a set of green energy advertisements in order to examine the emotional responses toward visual ‘natural’ stimuli. Applying evolutionary and environmental psychology, the study confirms that nature images in ads lead to positive brand attitudes. Ongkrutraska, W. J. (2007) is an excellent reference work on the basics of environmental marketing and advertising. Embedded in the broader discourse of corporate social responsibility (CSR), this chapter offers a concise summary of why and how green concerns became a marketing advantage. Spack, J. et al. (2012) can be read as an expansion of our concept of eco-advertising, as it explores the visual-verbal strategies of green product packaging and their effects on purchasing intent.
References Banerjee, S., Gulas, C. and Iyer, E. (1995), ‘Shades of green: A multidimensional analysis of environmental advertising’, Journal of Advertising, 24(2): 21–31. Baum, L. (2012), ‘It’s not easy being green . . . or is it? A content analysis of environmental claims in magazine advertisements from the United States and United Kingdom’, Environmental Communication, 6(4), 423–440. Carlson, L., Grove, S., Kangun, N. and Polonsky, M. (1996), ‘An international comparison of environmental advertising: Substantive versus associative claims’, Journal of Macromarketing, 16(2): 57–68. Fill, A. (2001), ‘Ecolinguistics: State of the art 1998’, in A. Fill and P. Mühlhäusler (eds.), The Ecolinguistics Reader: Language, Ecology and Environment. London, New York: Continuum, pp. 43–53. Fill, A. and Mühlhäusler, P. (eds.) (2001), The Ecolinguistics Reader: Language, Ecology and Environment. London, New York: Continuum. Hall, S. (1982), ‘The rediscovery of “ideology”: Return of the repressed in media studies’, in M. Gurevitch, T. Bennet, J. Curran and J. Woollacott (eds.), Culture, Society and the Media. London: Methuen, pp. 56–90. Halliday, M. A. K. (1978), Language as a Social Semiotic: The Social Interpretation of Language and Meaning. London: Edward Arnold. Hansen, A. (2002), ‘Discourses of nature in advertising’, Communications, 27(4): 499–511. Hansen, A. (2010), Environment, Media and Communication. London: Routledge.
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Hansen, A. (2015), ‘Nature, environment and commercial advertising’, in A. Hansen and R. Cox (eds.), The Routledge Handbook of Environment and Communication. London: Routledge, pp. 270–280. Hartmann, P. and Apaolaza-Ibanez, V. (2009), ‘Green advertising revisited’, International Journal of Advertising, 28(4): 715–739. Hartmann, P. and Apaolaza-Ibanez, V. (2010), ‘Beyond savanna: An evolutionary and environmental psychology approach to behavioral effects of nature scenery in green advertising’, Journal of Environmental Psychology, 30(1): 119–128. Haugen, E. (2001), ‘The ecology of language’, in A. Fill and P. Mühlhäusler (eds.), The Ecolinguistics Reader: Language, Ecology and Environment. London, New York: Continuum, pp. 57–66. Hennecke, A. (2012), ‘Analysemodelle für Werbekommunikation’, in N. Janich (ed.), Handbuch Werbekommunikation: sprachwissenschaftliche und interdisziplinäre Zugänge. Tübingen: Narr Francke Attempto Verlag, pp. 365–379. Howlett, M. and Raglon, R. (1992), ‘Constructing the environmental spectacle: Green advertisements and the Greening of the corporate image’, Environmental History Review, 16(4): 53–68. Lombardo, L. (1999), ‘Advertising as motivated discourse’, in L. Lombardo, L. Haarman, J. Morley and C. Taylor (eds.), Massed Media: Linguistics Tools for Interpreting Media. Milano: LED, pp. 85–156. Martin, J. R. and Rose, D. (2008), Genre Relations: Mapping Culture. London: Equinox. Mattes, J., Wonneberger, A. and Schmuck, D. (2014), ‘Consumers’ green involvement and the persuasive effects of emotional versus functional ads’, Journal of Business Research, 67: 1885–1893. Miremadi, M., Musso, C. and Weihe, U. (2012), ‘How much will consumers pay to go green?’, McKinsey Quarterly [WWW document]. www.mckinsey.com/insights/manufacturing/how_ much_will_consumers_pay_to_go_green [accessed October 12, 2015]. Ongkrutraska, W. Y. (2007), ‘Green marketing and advertising’, in S. May, G. Cheney and J. Roper (eds.), The Debate Over Corporate Social Responsibility. Oxford: Oxford University Press, pp. 365–379. Popa, D. and Petrovici, I. (2014), ‘Ecodesign in advertising: Aesthetic aspects’, Procedia—Social and Behavioral Sciences, 163: 73–78. Rooks, J. (2010), ‘100 green ads: a biennial green ad language study’, [WWW document]. http:// thesoapgroup.com/images/media/8.3cii_2010LangStudy.pdf [August 24, 2015]. Spack, J., Board, V., Crighton, L., Kostka, P. and Ivory, J. (2012), ‘It’s easy being green: The effects of argument and imagery on consumer responses to green product packaging’, Environmental Communication: A Journal of Nature and Culture, 6(4): 441–458. Stöckl, H. (2004), ‘Werbekommunikation: Linguistische Analyse und Textoptimierung’, in K. Knapp et al. (eds.), Angewandte Linguistik. Tübingen, Basel: Francke, pp. 229–254. Stöckl, H. (2014), ‘ “He Begs to Inform Every Person Interested”: A diachronic study of address and interaction in print advertising’, Anglistik: Internationl Journal of English Studies, 25(2): 81–106. TerraChoice (2010), ‘The sins of greenwashing: Home and family edition’, [WWW document]. http:// sinsofgreenwashing.com/index35c6.pdf [August 18, 2015]. Vries, L. de (1968), Victorian Advertisements. London: John Murray. Wilson, E. (1984), Biophilia. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.
Advertisements Commented On Mazda (2012), ‘Mazda CX-5 commercial (extended version)’ [Video file]. www.youtube.com/ watch?v=1reNo-cXQ8M [accessed September 9, 2015]. Method Products Inc./Tub and Tile Spray (2007), TBWA\CHIAT\DAY, USA, ‘Ads of the World Archive’ [WWW document]. https://adsoftheworld.com/media/print/method_detox_your_home_2 [accessed October 10, 2015]. Toyota (2009), ‘Toyota Prius commercial’ [Video file]. www.youtube.com/watch?v=R17U7YJty_0 [accessed September 9, 2015].
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18 ‘Global Warming’ or ‘Climate Change’? Hermine Penz
Introduction Climate change has become the dominant topic in environmental discourse in the last few years. Although the issue as such is not new, the meticulous reviews of climate science published regularly in the reports of the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) as well as an increase in weather extremes which people experience in different regions of the world have resulted in growing awareness of a phenomenon that threatens to bring about disastrous changes in the future for human beings and all living beings on our earth. When discussing climate change discourse it seems appropriate to provide historical background and a current perspective on the science of climate change before embarking on a discussion of the discourse in connection with this phenomenon. The issue of terminology for the phenomenon is also addressed in detail as important developments in the debate are connected with it. As in any area of environmental discourse, media representations play a crucial role in how climate change is communicated. The ways in which different actors and ideologies and perspectives are communicated through media coverage influence people’s perspective and political action—or inaction—to an extent which should not be neglected. Thus, the issue of how the topic of climate change is framed plays an important role in how the problem is communicated and constructed.
Historical Perspectives The issue of global environmental concerns such as ‘global warming’ (or ‘climate change’) is not new but can rather be seen as a long tradition. The description of the greenhouse effect can even be traced back to the first half of the 19th century in physics and the atmospheric sciences; it was first described by the French physicist J. B. J. Fourier and then further supported by experimental observations by Claude Pouillet and John Tyndal (see Nerlich and Hellsten, 2014: 30; Giddens, 2011: 11). Its metaphorical use first appears in a geological magazine published in 1867, where “the atmosphere is compared to ‘an immense dome of glass,’ and transformed into ‘a great Orchid-house’ ” (OED, online; cf. Nerlich and Hellsten, 2014: 30). The possibility of global warming was discussed by the Royal Geographical 277
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Society in London as early as the 1860s. Their debates referred to research on various continents which suggested that the composition of the atmosphere might be changing. In addition to anxieties about artificially induced climate change, discussions also centered around the loss of species and unspoiled nature (see Harré et al., 1998: 15). The metaphor ‘greenhouse effect’ has been used in climate science since the early twentieth century to compare the influence of carbon dioxide and other greenhouse gases on the atmosphere to the glass of a greenhouse which increases the temperature inside it, a comparison that allowed people to understand the complicated mechanisms working in the atmosphere. The greenhouse metaphor was first used in science articles and later appeared in the media; it spread particularly widely in the 1980s, with peaks in the late 1980s, when climate change became a political issue, and in particular a year before the Rio Summit in 1992, which was characterized by scientists pushing for global action on climate change. The metaphor has remained in use in connection with climate change since then with varying upward and downward trends (see Nerlich and Hellsten, 2014: 30).
Terminology The language used to talk about the environment (as about any other field) can—intentionally or unintentionally—work in various ways: language may be employed in apparently neutral ways, yet still downplay or hide environmental exploitation by seemingly appearing neutral. In other cases ‘euphemisms’ are applied, a strategy which makes issues appear more positive than they actually are. The third possibility lies in the choice of dysphemism (the opposite of euphemism), which presents things in a more negative light than the reality and applies pejorative terms (see Schultz, 2001). Schultz emphasizes the importance of language in our attempts to protect the environment and pleads for replacing conventional terms by alternatives which are conducive towards our environment. In this vein, she proposes that the terms ‘global warming’ and ‘greenhouse effect’ should be substituted by the expression ‘(human-induced) climatic dislocation,’ as she considers this to be “more factually precise” (Schultz, 2001: 112). The Oxford Dictionary online has the following entry for ‘global warming’: “A gradual increase in the overall temperature of the Earth’s atmosphere generally attributed to the greenhouse effect caused by increased levels of carbon dioxide, CFCs, and other pollutants.” ‘Climate change’ is defined as “[A] change in global or regional climate patterns, in particular a change apparent from the mid to late 20th century onwards and attributed largely to the increased levels of atmospheric carbon dioxide produced by the use of fossil fuels” (English Oxford Living Dictionaries). The two terms are distinguished along similar lines—yet in less technical language—by The Climate Reality Project, a nongovernmental organization (NGO) founded by former U.S. Vice-President Al Gore, which aims at setting up a global climate protection movement: “Global Warming” applies to the long-term trend of rising average global temperatures [whereas] “climate change” is a broader term that reflects the fact that carbon pollution does more than just warm our planet. Carbon pollution is also changing rain and snow patterns and increasing the risk of intense storms and droughts. (The Climate Reality Project, 2016) The Climate Reality Project traces the term ‘global warming’ back to the 1950s and elaborates on its further use in the following decades. The term ‘global warming’ apparently 278
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appeared for the first time in a newspaper editorial in 1957 but is generally attributed to Wallace Broecker, who used the term in his article “Climatic Change: Are We on the Brink of Pronounced Global Warming?” (1975). This term replaced the expression ‘inadvertent climate modification’ which had been applied in the early 1970s to the influence of human activities on the Earth’s climate at a time when it was not clear whether industrial emissions would have a cooling or a warming effect. A study by the National Academy of Science, known as the Charney Report, published in 1979, clearly established the impact of carbon dioxide on climate and adopted Broecker’s terminology. In the Charney Report ‘global warming’ was used to describe the increase of surface temperature of the Earth, whereas any other changes connected to the increase in carbon dioxide were summed up by the expression ‘climate change.’ The term ‘global warming’ was also used in James E. Hansen’s testimony to Congress about climate and global warming, which was widely reported in the press and resulted in an explosion of the usage of this term. The IPCC and other NGOs have adopted the term ‘global climate change’ as they consider this a more accurate description of the phenomenon (see The Climate Reality Project). According to Lakoff (2010: 71), the term ‘global warming’ was replaced by ‘climate change’ in 2003 by Frank Luntz, an advisory to the Bush administration, for the purpose of making it sound less threatening and veiling human responsibility. While both the terms ‘greenhouse effect’ and ‘global warming’ are based on the analogy of Earth to a greenhouse, a metaphor which is closer to human experience and can thus be fairly easily understood, ‘climate change’ appears more detached, remote and abstract. A brief investigation of the current usage of these terms revealed that currently the term ‘climate change’ is clearly the favorite, as is indicated by 103,000,000 hits for the term on Google on September 20, 2016, whereas ‘global warming’ appeared 37,900,000 times. In the research literature, the two terms are frequently used interchangeably, although ‘climate change’ also appears to be the preferred version. There is no clear indication, however, that Luntz’s veiling strategy has resulted in deflecting attention from the issue and making it appear more harmless by giving preference to the term ‘climate change’. Human responsibility has been suggested with growing certainty with every successive report of the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) and has also been more accepted by the media. Although the two terms actually mean slightly different things—with ‘climate change’ referring to more encompassing phenomena than ‘global warming’—the terms are used interchangeably in most contexts and probably do not have very different connotations.
Climate Science and International Action on Climate Change In 1988, the United Nations (UN) set up the IPCC, an international body for the assessment of climate change which evaluates the major publications on climate change and attempts to draw conclusions on the scientific evidence concerning climate change. Hundreds of scientists and reviewers are involved in reviewing available research and drawing up reports in cooperation with policy makers on the world climate and the potential consequences at regular intervals. Since its foundation the IPCC has published five assessment reports, the last of which appeared in November 2014 (see IPCC website). The IPCC produces reports in which it projects different possible scenarios of the consequences of climate change, taking into account factors such as economic growth, natural resources, increase in population, development of low-carbon technologies and growing regional inequalities. Since the first IPCC report published in 1990, human influence on greenhouse gas emissions and thus on 279
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climate change has been established as an important factor. In each successive report, the degree of certainty relating to the anthropogenic causes has increased. The IPCC Report 2014 (Summary for Policy Makers) comes to the conclusion that human influence on the climate has even grown since the fourth IPCC report published in 2007 and is the greatest in history. Greenhouse gas emissions continuously increased between 1970 and 2010, with the largest increases between 2000 and 2010. What is more, it states that the consequences of climate change are already noticeable as “[r]ecent climate changes have had widespread impacts on human and natural systems” (IPCC-SPM, 2014: 2). In sum, the successive IPCC reports have made it increasingly clear that the consequences of climate change will be disastrous unless emissions are reduced and average global warming is limited to 2 degrees Celsius. In order to reduce greenhouse gas emissions and to mitigate the effects of climate change, international climate change conferences have been organized at regular intervals. At the Earth Summit in Rio (1992), the countries of the world agreed on the Framework Convention on Climate Change (FCCC) in which they committed themselves to taking actions to stabilize greenhouse gas concentrations in the atmosphere and thus preventing interference caused by human action (i.e. anthropogenic) on the climate. Between 1995 and 2016, 23 climate change conferences (COP 1–COP 22) were organized by the United Nations in addition to a number of other conferences on the environment and sustainable development. There has been one climate change conference per year; the only exception was 2001, which featured two conferences, one in Bonn, Germany, and the other in Marrakech, Morocco. These two meetings dealt with the effects and disagreements in the aftermath of the Kyoto Protocol. The 2015 climate change conference was held in Paris in November 2015 and was one of the first conferences in years with concrete results as it led to the ratification of the Paris Agreement. The Paris Agreement, which was adopted at COP 21 in December 2015, is an agreement within the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change and “deals with greenhouse gases, mitigation, adaptation and finance starting in the year 2020.” It is the first legally binding climate agreement world-wide and aims to keep the rise of temperatures well below 2 degrees Celsius. The language of the agreement was negotiated by representatives of 197 countries worldwide. By October 5, 2016, the agreement was ratified by 97 out of 197 parties to the Convention. It came into force on November 4, 2016 (see The Paris Agreement; see Wikipedia—United Nations Climate Change conference).
Critical Issues and Topics Media Reporting on Climate Change The growing popularity of ‘green discourse,’ e.g., about global warming on a global scale, can be viewed as a result of increasing mediatization: The Earth Summit in Rio de Janeiro was the first international conference on environmental issues that brought numerous local discourses about the exploitation of our earth to a global scale. It attracted large crowds of journalists and was featured world-wide on TV and in the print media (see Harré et al., 1998: 19–20). Similarly, the Kyoto Conference and the negotiation of the Kyoto Protocol in 1997 caused a surge in media coverage. Each climate change conference and publication of IPCC Reports is accompanied by peaks in media coverage (see Xuan et al., 2014 on TV news coverage of the Copenhagen Climate Change Conference 2009 in the United States, China and Canada). Media coverage of climate change has been found to be cyclical as there are peaks and troughs (Kuha, 2009). 280
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These are frequently connected with extreme weather events (such as heat) or international events such as climate change conferences and more recently the publication of IPCC reports, Al Gore’s movie An Inconvenient Truth or the Stern Report in the UK (see Boykoff, 2007; Kuha, 2009; Nerlich and Koteyko, 2009). Nerlich et al. (2014) found that reporting on climate change steadily increased between 2000 and 2009. Media representations (of environmental issues as of other topics) do not present facts but reflect (and negotiate) power relations and can be seen as “shaping knowledge and discourses between individuals and communities” (Boykoff, 2007: 478). Media have an influence on agenda setting as the importance that people attribute to an issue is strongly connected to its presence in the media, e.g., the media can turn people’s attention to the topic of climate change. It has also been argued that the media play a role in influencing people’s attitudes towards issues. In the case of scientific knowledge, the media serve a crucial function in translating research findings to the general public. Climate change, for example, is a phenomenon which people do not immediately experience in their everyday lives. If they are faced with floods, extreme heat or storms, it is mainly the media which connect these to global climate change (see Dirikx and Gelders, 2008: 99). Although the topic of climate change has been taken up by the media worldwide, the bulk of research is based on U.S. and UK media reporting and thus on English language media. Analyses of European newspapers are still largely focused on UK media, yet more European countries have recently come to the fore in this respect. Media coverage of climate change has mostly been analyzed in quality papers. Boykoff (2008), however, focused on the framing of climate change in UK tabloid newspapers. The news articles in the tabloid newspapers analyzed (all published between 2000 and 2006) predominantly framed climate change through (extreme) weather events, invasive species and megafauna and the movements of political actors and rhetoric. Only few stories focused on climate justice and risk (Boykoff, 2008).
The Framing of Climate Change Framing means to “select some aspects of a perceived reality and make them more salient in a communicating text” (Entman, 1993: 52). In other words, by focusing on particular aspects and reporting selected facts, the author can project certain perspectives while ignoring or side-tracking other possible viewpoints. According to Lakoff (2010), ‘framing’ is the technical term which is used for understanding in the cognitive sciences. He argues that we think in terms of systems of structures which are called frames. Frames are evoked by particular meanings of words. Frames are cognitive and cultural constructs, i.e., they are cultural models which help us to structure our knowledge. Frames account for how we understand the meaning of particular words, they help in (problematic cases) in categorization, and they help to account for multiple understandings of the same situation (Kövesces, 2006: 73ff.).
Linguistic Elements in Framing: Words and Metaphors Studies of framing have frequently investigated the lexical items which trigger particular frames, their collocations and key words connected to these frames. In addition, metaphors have been studied as a powerful framing device. Metaphor allows us to “talk and, potentially, think about something in terms of something else” (Semino, 2008: 1). In their theory of conceptual metaphor, Lakoff and Johnson 281
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(1980) argue that our conceptual system is metaphorical in nature and thus metaphors also influence the way we think and how we perceive the world. Scientific phenomena are usually complex and not easily accessible to our senses and understanding. Metaphors help to access these complex and abstract areas and at the same time “ ‘frame’ the phenomena in question in particular ways, foregrounding some aspects and backgrounding others” (Semino, 2008: 132). According to Kövecses (2006: 135), “[M]etaphor is the interaction of two cultural models” (or frames) which are the source domain and the target domain. Kövesces further points out that metaphors are not just a linguistic and cognitive phenomenon but may even become embodied in the cultural practice of a society (p. 136). In politics, metaphor-based reframing is a common strategy to present certain issues in a new light which is supportive of the respective political convictions of the politicians who use it (see Lakoff, 1996; Kövesces, 2006: 139; see also Mey, this volume; Kuha, this volume). The question of how climate change is framed in the media has been the focus of a substantial number of studies in the area of climate change discourse. Among the many frames that have been identified, the five most frequently mentioned are: a) certainty/uncertainty, b) risks (extreme weather events/natural catastrophes) or uncertainty, c) business and economics, d) climate security and e) mitigation. These frames may appear as dominant representations, yet also in combination with each other or with other frames. At the same time, these frames can also be viewed as the dominant issues in the debate. In the subsequent sections the frames listed earlier will be discussed in detail.
Certainty/Uncertainty The Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) has established human influence on greenhouse gas emissions and thus on climate change. In its reports the degree of certainty relating to the anthropogenic causes is expressed in terms of likelihood. The fifth IPCC report, for example, states that it is ‘extremely likely’ that the major causes of climate change are human made. The degree of likelihood has been calculated at between 95% and 100%. Whereas in other spheres of social life such a high percentage would probably be communicated as a proven fact, scientists aim at presenting their findings as accurately as possible. According to Cook et al. (2013), 97% of climate scientists agree that climate change is largely anthropogenic. Climate change deniers, however, frequently use expressions with a much lower degree of certainty when addressing the question of human responsibility, and they use terms reflecting doubt with respect to scientific results and the degree of consensus among scientists. Media reporting frequently frames climate change with respect to (un)certainty. In his study of media representations of climate change in U.S. TV news and print media from 1995 to 2006, Boykoff (2007: 479) shows that the widespread scientific consensus that climate change is largely due to human industrial activity is framed as “contention and conflict” and discusses the effects which this has on policy and public opinion. This media representation of climate change portrays a picture which expresses a much higher degree of uncertainty and debate concerning the anthropogenic nature of climate change than the general scientific consensus. Kuha (2009: 2) reports that the framing of climate change in U.S. newspapers frequently occurs in terms of “debates, controversy, and uncertainty” (Antilla, 2005: 350, quoted from Kuha, 2009: 2). U.S. newspapers have lagged far behind other news reporting, in particular compared to the UK, in that until 2005 the sources of climate change were reported as 282
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controversial even though scientific consensus has long asserted its largely anthropogenic origin. The study also showed that the level of certainty expressed about the causes and effects of climate change was lower in U.S. newspapers (with regional variation) than in UK papers (Kuha, 2009). A comparison of newspaper communication on global warming in the United States and Europe has shown that U.S. media focus on uncertainty, projecting a critical view of existing research although there is large-scale consensus among scientists concerning the issue. The issue as such is portrayed with a rather neutral attitude whereas German reporting, in contrast, emphasizes scientific certainty.
Risk or Uncertainty—Extreme Weather Events/Natural Catastrophes The framing of climate change as catastrophe, fear, disaster and death has been found extremely frequently in media reporting (Doulton and Brown, 2009) and also characterized the Fourth Assessment Report of the IPCC (2007), whereas the terms ‘optimism’ and ‘opportunity’ in connection with mitigating potentially negative impacts have only rarely been found (see Painter, 2013: 47). A study of climate change in European newspapers (particularly German news reporting) emphasizes scientific certainty and represents climate change as a catastrophe, whereas the UK media also present a highly alarmist view (Dirikx and Gelders, 2008). Alarmist reporting also prevailed in Argentinian and Columbian newspapers, where climate change was presented in terms of potentially catastrophic scenarios. The reports underlined the need for immediate action and pointed towards the social progress which immediate action could promote (Zamith et al., 2012: 349). Alarmist reporting presents climate change as an immense problem which is beyond human control. It is characterized by extreme lexicon and a tone of urgency. In addition, it makes use of a “quasi-religious register of death and doom” and “language of acceleration and irreversibility” (Ereaut and Segnit, 2006: 7). Because the problem is represented on such a large scale that it appears beyond human control, it discourages human action to solve the problem. Painter (2013) argues that climate change communication should focus on the risks involved in a continuous increase of greenhouse gas emissions—in the sense that these may cause extreme weather events and have a series of other potentially devastating impacts— rather than on the uncertainties connected with climate science as the risk frame is more likely to raise awareness of the urgency of the problem and to promote political action. The communication of risk should draw on areas that are familiar to people such as health risks and risks connected to property such as fire, as most people are willing to take precautionary measures such as insurance in these cases while they do not appear to be equally concerned about the potential consequences of climate change, although the risks connected with it are greater and the probability higher (pp. 2–4 and 27). Many people are unaware that there is a substantial difference between public understanding of uncertainty (in science) and scientists’ view. Whereas the public may interpret uncertainty as (relative) lack of knowledge or even ignorance, scientists deal with uncertainty as an everyday occurrence which exists in most areas of science and may even lead to interesting questions (Painter, 2013: 7). The focus on uncertainty may result in diminishing the problem and consequently inaction as the public may get the feeling they do not know what to do and question whether they should be worried at all. This is why climate change communication has been advised to move away from communicating technical uncertainties towards the risks to society (p. 8). 283
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However, the risk frame should not employ disaster, alarmist or catastrophe language which is fear based. This has proven to attract the attention of the media, yet not to promote public engagement, unless it is accompanied by “positive messages or concrete examples of what can be done” (Painter, 2013: 35; based on Moser and Dilling, 2004).
Business and Economics The economic consequences of climate change were highlighted by the Stern Review, in which the consequences of environmental action were calculated against the costs of inaction (Stern, 2006, 2009). The framing of climate change with respect to social context, causes, consequences, and solutions was investigated in U.S., Canadian and international newspapers by Good (2008). She bases her research on Herman and Chomsky’s (1988) view that the media mainly serve the purposes of the elite (who serve the interest of neoliberal policies). Framing, in her view, is one of the dominant tools used to achieve these purposes. Whereas most U.S. media, for example the New York Times, stopped presenting climate change as a problem, British accounts (e.g., The Times) focused on finding solutions to the problem, and the existence of climate change was not challenged (Nerlich et al., 2014). Scientists tend to frame climate change with respect to problems and causes, whereas politicians focus on judgements and remedies (Trumbo, 1996). Zamith et al. (2012) analyzed the framing of climate change in newspaper articles from the United States, Brazil, Argentina and Columbia, all of which relied on government sources. The predominant frames in the United States and Brazil were public accountability and governance, economic development and competitiveness, and to a lesser extent, scientific uncertainty. Reporting in these two countries portrayed the governments as attempting to actively address the challenge of climate change in their policies and focused on the (negative) economic impact of possible solutions.
Security Framing climate change in terms of security became particularly prominent around 2007. The ‘securitization’ of the environment (see Buzan and Waever, 1998) has been criticized by a number of authors, among them researchers of the Copenhagen School, as the term “security entails a specific logic or rationality” connected to emergency measures which allow the breaking of rules by state authorities which would otherwise be based on democratic decisions in the political process (Trombetta, 2009: 132). The connection between climate and security has been raised particularly on the political level, for example by the European Union and the United Nations (Solana, 2008; United Nations General Assembly, 2009, discussed in Rothe, 2016: 2–3). Climate change has been connected to climate wars and new types of conflicts (Dyer, 2009); it has also been argued that security framing promotes military antagonism and action and might favor these over international decision-making under the auspices of environmental agencies. What is more, it might also lead to wrong policy measures (Rothe, 2016: 2). Furthermore, it invites reactive measures and conflict/ antagonism in the face of an existential threat instead of preventive measures which would be more effective in connection to risk (Rothe, 2016: 134). In addition to viewing the economic consequences as threats (Stern, 2006), other threats mentioned in the climate security discourse were food and water security, energy supply, immigration and failing states (Beckett, 2006; see Trombetta, 2009: 140). In climate security 284
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discourse the focus on emissions has become closely connected with energy security. This link can be viewed as problematic in two ways. First, it creates the illusion that by cutting greenhouse gases emissions and switching to nuclear energy and bio-fuel the environmental crisis will be solved, without taking into account that climate change is only one part of the complexity of environmental problems. Second, the link between climate security and energy security is automatically associated with national security, whereas the goal of climate security should be to work cooperatively on a global solution (Trombetta, 2009: 141). Securitization discourse has also produced two different conceptualizations: One sees climate change as a threat, whereas the other views environmental policies as a threat, as evidenced by George Bush, who withdrew from the Kyoto Protocol on the basis of the argument that the American lifestyle was not to be questioned (Trombetta, 2009: 140).
Mitigation—Finding Solutions Advice on and/or solutions to the problem of climate change are proposed by many different organizations and actors: intergovernmental organizations such as the IPCC, national and regional governments, NGOs and individual activists. Mitigation and adaptation have been designated as important contributions to reducing greenhouse gases and dealing with the effects of climate change. The IPCC states that “Mitigation is a human intervention to reduce the sources or enhance the sinks of greenhouse gases” (Fifth IPCC Summary Report for Policy Makers, p. 5). The IPCC also asserts that different countries face different challenges in this area and have to act according to their means and capacities, involving various groups of actors on local, national and international levels. Studies of the discourse on climate change mitigation have revealed that in the UK in particular, this has been connected with the creation of innumerable ‘carbon-compounds’ which have been shown to function as framing devices for dieting, finance and tax paying, wartime rationing and religious imperatives. These were analyzed in a study of lexical framing and metaphors in climate mitigation which advises the public on how to reduce their carbon footprint (see Nerlich and Koteyko, 2009). Geoengineering has been promoted as another way of dealing with climate change and its consequences and has been seen as an escape route in case all the other attempts at reducing global warming fail. It involves technology which attempts to combat rising temperatures. The main methods are “reflecting sunlight away from the planet or extracting carbon dioxide from the atmosphere” (Nerlich and Jaspal, 2012: 131). Geoengineering has been discussed with respect to its social and ethical implications but also as an opportunity for innovation. Nerlich and Jaspal (2012) found that geoengineering was framed as Plan B, or the only insurance policy for global warming. Planet Earth was seen in terms of the metaphor “THE PLANET IS A MACHINE,” which conceptualizes the planet as a machine which is broken but can be fixed, or “THE PLANET IS A BODY/PATIENT” which needs to be saved or cured (Nerlich and Jaspal, 2012). The authors found that the overall framing of geoengineering was positive. They cautioned against the use of particular metaphors in the public and political debate, arguing that metaphorical framing could ultimately lead to disastrous consequences. The message conveyed is that geoengineering is the only option to save humanity, arguing that the metaphors employed “could be called ‘metaphors we live by’ or ‘metaphors we survive by’ ” (Nerlich and Jaspal, 2012): 143) as the implementation of geoengineering might eventually contribute to the extermination of the human species. Visual framing of climate change is a topic that cannot be dealt with here for reasons of space (see Hansen, this volume). 285
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Climate Change Communication and the Internet The Internet has hugely expanded the scope for communication about climate change and consequently also the research into this communicative landscape. In addition to websites which provide information on various issues, the Internet has opened up new channels for public participation and the interaction between science and the public. These include social networks, blogs, reader comments, newsgroups and a host of other Internet platforms which facilitate participation. The discussion has shown that climate skeptics have been given ample space in U.S. media, frequently with reference to balanced journalism. This practice has, however, resulted in a distorted representation of the broad consensus in climate science that climate change is largely human induced. Whereas traditional media tend to regulate the flow of information to some extent, the Internet provides a forum for everybody to promote their views. It offers extensive opportunities to interest groups of any kind to spread their views, which, however, should not be mistaken as representing the views of the general public. Blogs by climate skeptics have been studied by Sharman (2014), who analyzed how these blogs are linked together and found that they focused on technical scientific aspects of the debate rather than social, political or economic factors. Similarly, Matthews’ (2015) research into blog comments by climate skeptics underscored the scientific focus. The study provides an insight into the reasons the members of this group themselves provided for turning into climate skeptics. Elgesem et al.’s (2015) research on the English-language blogosphere on climate change identified one community of predominantly climate skeptical blogs and several accepter communities. An analysis of the topics revealed that ‘climate change science’ and ‘climate change politics’ appeared to be the most important topics across the communities of skeptics and accepters. Online debates on climate change have been studied with respect to the question of how online debates can create or deny opportunities for democratic participation (in the form of deliberation) and give room to multiple voices (Collins and Nerlich, 2015). The role of the Internet in disseminating research on climate change and to facilitate collaboration between practitioners and researchers has been investigated by Newell and Dale (2015). Online platforms have also been used by groups of NGOs in Latin America to disseminate information on climate change and to influence decision-making (Takahashi et al., 2015) The study of climate change communication on the Internet is still at a very early stage, yet will probably progress as fast as the use of the Internet in the sphere of climate change communication.
Current Contributions and Research: Analyzing Political Communication Because the issue of climate change is a global problem that affects countries worldwide— though some more than others—environmental politics has to take decisions on who needs to do what and under what conditions. Of course, individual people are increasingly being affected by climatic changes which lead to increasing droughts and floods, in which case they experience these more directly. Political communication can marginalize more individual concerns of people and concentrate on more global issues, and thus it plays a central role with regard to the question of which actions are taken in view of the perceived or projected threat (see Mai Kuha, this volume). 286
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Political communication on climate change can be analyzed at the local, national or international level. Climate change negotiations on an international level were studied by Dong and Penz (2011). They found that in the process of negotiating a number of bilateral agreements on the environment and clean energy, U.S. President Barack Obama and Chinese President Hu Jintao and Prime Minister Wen Jiabao framed climate change both as a threat and an opportunity in their speeches in the year 2009 prior to the “U.S.-China Joint Statement” released on November 17, 2009. This seems to have been one of the rare cases where climate change was framed both in negative and in positive terms, i.e., ‘a threat/challenge’ provided the ‘opportunity’ for bilateral action and expanding common ground: Climate change as a threat: [T]he threat from climate change is serious, it is urgent, and it is growing. (Obama, 2009a) Global climate change has a profound impact on the existence and development of mankind and is a major challenge facing all countries. (Hu, 2009) Challenges and opportunities: But to truly transform our economy, to protect our security, and save our planet from the ravages of climate change, we need to ultimately make clean, renewable energy the profitable kind of energy. (Obama, 2009b) An analysis of the overall international and domestic situations shows that China is still in an important period of strategic opportunities. Challenges and opportunities coexist, as do hardships and hopes . . . We are fully confident that we will overcome difficulties and challenges, and we have the conditions and ability to do so. (Wen, 2009a) Common ground: Both of our countries are taking steps to transform our energy economies. Together we can chart a low carbon recovery; we can expand joint efforts at research and development to promote the clean and efficient use of energy; and we can work together to forge a global response at the Climate Change Conference in Copenhagen and beyond. And the best way to foster the innovation that can increase our security and prosperity is to keep our markets open to new ideas, new exchanges, and new sources of energy. (Obama, 2009c) However, although China has long recognized that climate change is a “common challenge,” its efforts at combating climate change have been framed with the condition that the “developed countries” take the lead and China’s own efforts at combating climate change are “voluntary” (Wen, 2009b). The frame employed is thus one of “common but differentiated responsibilities,” a frame which has been criticized by Obama on several occasions. Contrasting views on climate change on a national level surfaced in the 2016 U.S. presidential election and were commented upon in the media. Whereas Hilary Clinton firmly 287
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believes in climate science and is convinced that climate change is a threat to us all, Donald Trump has repeatedly referred to the findings of climate science as a “hoax” (see Borenstein, 2016). Clinton’s view represents a risk frame of climate change, whereas Trump places it in the sphere of myth or even lies (‘hoax’). Because frames substantially influence our perception of issues, it is of crucial importance how climate change is framed in politics: the actions taken, those not taken or even abandoned will influence our lives and the future of our planet.
Main Research Methods The representation of and discourse on climate change has attracted the interest of researchers from various disciplines. The main approach taken by journalists, sociologists and geographers has been (quantitative) content analysis (see Kuha, 2009: 1). Most research devoted to the analysis of climate change in the traditional mass media uses various types and mixtures of (mainly quantitative) content analysis and (qualitative) discourse analysis (including frame analysis, lexical and metaphor analysis) (for an overview, see Doulton and Brown, 2009). Critical discourse analysis has studied underlying ideologies by combining frame analysis, lexical and metaphor analysis (Nerlich and Koteyko, 2009). A triangulation of the methods of critical discourse analysis, frame analysis and semi-structured interviews provided the methodological tools for Boykoff’s (2008) study of the framing of climate change in UK tabloid newspapers. Positioning theory (i.e., the positioning of social actors in discourse) was applied by Dahl and Fløttum (2014). Corpus-based approaches have been applied to study large newspaper corpora by Grundmann and Krishnamurthy (2010), who focused on word lists and collocations to study how climate change has been framed differently in the United States, the UK, France and Germany and how this reflects differences in these countries’ climate change policies. Corpus analysis was also applied by Collins and Nerlich (2015) in studying the online climate change debate in comment threads in response to articles on climate change by the British newspaper The Guardian. Elgesem et al. (2015) employed computational linguistic approaches which combined web crawling to find blogs, compiling word frequency lists and collocations, community detection (by analyzing the linking structure of blogs), and automized topic detection combined with manual classification in their study of English-language climate change blogs. Multimodal approaches have been of growing interest in the field of climate change discourse recently. All in all, the analysis of climate change discourse is characterized by a multiplicity of approaches and increasingly multi-method approaches to capture the complexities of the field.
Future Directions My brief review of the research on climate change has illustrated that the bulk of studies has dealt with media reporting. What has become evident, however, is that these studies are largely focused on U.S. and UK media with a growing interest concerning European states. Given that climate change is a global phenomenon, media coverage worldwide should be ensured. Consequently, ecolinguistic research should be extended to media accounts beyond the AngloAmerican sphere, in particular to those areas which are most affected by climate change.
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Studies of media communication have pointed out that access to the media is connected to social power; in other words, the views of the political and economic elite tend to be overrepresented. For this reason, ecolinguistic studies of climate change discourse need to be extended to include a greater variety of genres and voices. Around the world, local communities have been observing changes in climate and—as a consequence—in their environment. The voices of the people affected need to be heard and given a floor in climate change debates. What is more, at the local level adaptation to changing climatic conditions is practiced by those affected, be it farmers who have to adapt their crops and deal with new invasive species in view of rising temperatures, or people living on fishery and having to deal with rising sea levels in coastal areas. Local knowledge and experience could substantially inform policies on adaptation if the discourse of these actors is taken into account. Multimodal approaches combining verbal and visual communication are becoming of increasing interest to researchers, as is the analysis of multiple genres including how they work interdiscursively to support certain viewpoints or dismiss these. The Internet will probably continue its development into a site where people from various groups of society will voice their concerns, engage in interaction and debate on issues such as climate change. This site should be used by climate scientists and stake holders to engage with the general public. Most studies of climate change discourse have been descriptive, but one possible aim of future research should be how (climate) communication can develop communicative strategies which help to convey the urgency of the issue and to enhance and promote action.
Further Reading Nerlich, B., Koteyko, N. and Brown, B. (2010), ‘Theory and language of climate change Communication’, Wiley Interdisciplinary Reviews: Climate Change, 1(1): 97–110. Painter, J. (2013), Climate Change in the Media: Reporting Risk and Uncertainty. London, New York: I.B. Tauris. Stibbe, A. (2015), Ecolinguistics: Language, Ecology and the Stories We Live By. London, New York: Routledge.
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19 Media Reports about Natural Disasters An Ecolinguistic Perspective Martin Döring
Introduction Natural disasters like earthquakes, tornadoes, hailstorms, landslides, hurricanes or floods always lead to massive media coverage. A close look in the different sections of tabloids, daily newspapers or weeklies indicates that natural disasters possess a certain degree of newsworthiness as it is mirrored by sensationalist headlines and dramatic images. Furthermore, written media accounts often display a more or less predefined text structure which could be divided into descriptions of causes, damages, number of victims, rescue operations, expert opinions, political statements and consequences for disaster and environmental management. The same also holds true for news programs on the radio and television where journalists on the spot provide insights into the current situation, interview witnesses, ask experts to assess the situation and the consequences. Meanwhile, repetitive loops of edited films and information banderols accentuate live transmissions. The language used to depict the impact of disasters and assess the consequences of catastrophes for humans and the natural environment is often one-dimensional. The media coverage displays standardized linguistic and phenomenon-specific structures in terms of metaphors, grammatical constructions, narratives and text linguistic structures to depict an image of what happened. Such aspects refer to Marshall McLuhan’s (1994) famous dictum that mediality predetermines the message’s content: “the medium is the message.” Thus, medium and disaster ‘news-speak’ are interlinked and mutually interdependent. Seen from a media theoretical point of view, the main task of the mass media in the case of a disaster consists in satisfying the readerships’ need to be informed. One, however, has to bear in mind that the information provided already represents a selective construct that “[. . .] publicise[s] initial interpretations of the event, repeating and enhancing the impact of [already existing media; M.D.] interpretations” (Seeger et al., 2003: 112). Even if one accepts that the main role of the media consists in informing the public, one also has to bear in mind that the public’s knowledge is in many cases restricted to the prestructured and processed language used to convey information (Kim et al., 2002). This is exactly the starting point for an ecolinguistic (EL) investigation which critically analyzes the different language patterns underlying environmental and disaster reporting. Conceptually speaking, 293
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an EL understanding of language can be divided into three different analytical stands (cf. Fill, 1996: introduction, x): • • •
Ecology of language(s): this strand analyses the interaction between languages with an emphasis on the preservation of linguistic diversity and regional languages (Mühlhäusler, 1996). Ecological linguistics: this strand uses analytical concepts taken from ecology and applies them to language (Trampe, 1990). Critical and applied ELs: this strand studies the interaction between language and linguistic patterns in terms of an eco-critical discourse analysis (Döring, 2005).
Bearing in mind that these different strands are conceptually interrelated, the list provides a first heuristic which helps to distinguish the different fields where EL research can be carried out. Hence, the analysis of media reporting about disasters could clearly be situated in the third strand in which an eco-critical analysis of environmental discourses forms the prevailing bulk of work (Fill, 1993; Döring et al., 2008; Alexander, 2009). Here, methodological and theoretical intersections and differences exist with the field of critical discourse analysis (CDA) (Chouliaraki and Fairclough, 1999; van Dijk, 2014; Fairclough, 2014), a field of research in which pressing social and political issues and their innate power relations and ideologies are deconstructed. The critical analyses of ecological discourses (Hajer and Versteeg, 2005) has, however, mostly been devoted to the analysis of political discourses while a considerable amount of work in other scientific disciplines such as sociology, anthropology and geography addressed the interplay between environmental disasters, culture, society and the media (Benthall, 1993; Pantti et al., 2012). It is thus imperative to investigate the previously mentioned theoretical and methodological intersections between a critical and applied EL approach and other fields of research dedicated to the analysis of disaster reporting. For this to be achieved it is—first—important to explore what ELs and its subfield of critical and applied ELs actually are (the second section). We then turn to critical issues and topics conceptually close to the previously mentioned field of critical discourse analysis to examine theoretical and methodological convergences and divergences (the third section). These will further be illustrated in the following chapter where current contributions and actual research from eco-critical and applied ELs (ECDA) will be inspected and discussed (the fourth section). The final section will depict future areas of research for an ECDA of disaster reporting. This procedure might, all in all, help us to explore and define the potentials and limits of a critical and applied ELs perspective to analyze media reports of disasters.
Setting the Conceptual Scenario of an Eco-Critical Discourse Analysis Ecological models underlying research carried out in the humanities and social sciences are not new. They have existed for a long time and have undergone considerable changes throughout their development (Lechevrel, 2010). Mainly revolving around the debates of the nature–culture dichotomy (Descola, 2013), disciplines like anthropology (Bateson, 2000), sociology (Alihan, 1938) and geography developed their own approaches as one can see for example in the work of the Chicago School (Porter and Howell, 2014) or in anthropology (Ingold, 2000). Most of these works more or less overtly subscribe to the idea
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of an ecological and holistic approach. This also concerns an ecological understanding of language and linguistics which has firstly been brought forward by Einar Haugen (1979) in his work “Language Ecology and the Case of Faroese.” Haugen’s work was influenced by the rise of the ecological movement at the start of the 1970s and he explicitly stated that his work on the loss of local languages was supposed to politically and socially engage with the ecological crisis (Haugen, 1979: 243–244). Although there are some historical predecessors (Mühlhäusler, 2000; Lechevrel, 2010), Haugen has become the agreed upon founding father by most of the proponents of ELs. This is problematic to a certain degree as Haugen has been overtly criticized for theoretical and methodological lacks in his ecology of language, even though he was among the first scholars who introduced a framework for a reflexive perspective on contemporary linguistics (Lechevrel, 2009). However, we have to bear in mind that at the time of Haugen’s first article on the ecology of language Chomskyan linguistics were high on the agenda. The concept of generative grammar predominantly shaped the research landscape of linguistics at that time while the area of sociolinguistics (Lechevrel, 2010) was kept in the background. Haugen’s work on language and the interplay between different languages—as seen through an ecological lens—scientifically stood in and was influenced by this scientific context. Chomsky’s idea of a generative grammar based on rigorous theoretical and methodological reductionism strongly contrasted with Haugen’s idea of a more holistic understanding of language in which the interaction between humans, their language and the environment is stressed. This basic aspect has been taken up by scholars working in ELs and forms one of its core assumptions. However, Haugen’s work was more complex than this, because he analytically used Humboldt’s theoretical distinction between Ergon and Energeia, in which language is understood neither as a pure product nor as an activity (Bang and Trampe, 2014). In fact, language “appears as action, like all behavior, but it exists in the mind as a potential, which can be treated as a thing, a thing that implies the possibility for action” (Haugen, 1971: 20). Thus, Haugen emphasized the social and cognitive dimensions in his ecological understanding of language and pledges for an integrative or even integrationist perspective. This conceptual move consequently emphasizes the relevance of a situated approach that explicitly includes the ideal of a scientifically informed active engagement in concrete problem settings although it lacks a theoretical foundation informed by contemporary concepts of human ecology, evolutionary ecology or biodiversity. Nevertheless, Haugen’s work is important and what can be deducted from it are five different strands of research (Lechevrel, 2009: 8): • • • • •
Linguistic gravitational models in language planning and policies, language contact and languages in contact, and sociolinguistics; Linguistic ecosystems and co-evolution in the sociology of language and diglossic context; Eco-critical discourse analysis in discourse analysis (or environmental linguistics); Linguistic change and language evolution in Creole studies, linguistic typology and evolution; Dialectical linguistics in dialectical philosophy and linguistics.
Lechevrel’s (2009: 8) differentiated perspective strongly converges with Fill’s (1996: x) and reveals some additional areas of EL research. However, both frameworks assign an important place to applied eco-critical discourse analysis. This, though implicitly, resonates with
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different aspects of Haugen’s (1971: 21) tentative concept of what ELs is supposed to be and which extends Haeckel’s (1866) concept of studying society and the environment from an integrated point of view: The name of a field is of little importance, but it seems to me that the term ecology of language covers a broad range of interests within which linguistics can cooperate significantly with all kinds of social scientists towards an understanding of the interaction of languages and their users. One may even venture to suggest that ecology is not just a name of a descriptive science, but in its application has become a banner of a movement for environmental sanitation. The term could include also in its application to language some interest in the general concern among laymen over the cultivation and preservation of language. Ecology suggests a dynamic rather than a static science, something beyond the descriptive that one might call predictive or even therapeutic. Many of these aspects have informed Mühlhäusler’s (1996) applied approach to be used in the framework of analyzing linguistic ecologies. But Haugen’s outline also offers valuable insights which converge with discourse analytical approaches as he refers to the need for an interdisciplinary cooperation between social scientists and linguists. This could be understood a as reminiscence to sociolinguistics but the extension to ecology with its conceptual and political dimension supports this claim as critical discourse analysts emphasize comparable aspects in their work on political issues.
Convergences and Divergences: Eco-Critical Discourse Analysis and Critical Discourse Analysis Research in CDA is mainly devoted to analyzing social power abuse and social inequalities with the primary aim to challenge them (van Dijk, 2015: 466). CDA could thus be understood as an attempt to scientifically analyze and propose solutions for social or political problems in different cultural and societal settings, whereas an ECDA broadens the scope to environmental and ecological issues. In this view, CDA and ECDA share an applied and sometimes campaigning dimension within their research frameworks. In addition, conceptual intersections exist as both approaches explicitly draw on and merge methods from the humanities, the social sciences and the sciences (Wodak and Meyer, 2001; Harré et al., 1999; Alexander, 2009) to adequately study a problem from a linguistic and discourse theoretical point of view. There is thus not a unitary conceptual framework in both approaches but a problem-oriented and case-specific combination of theoretical and methodological concepts to be conceived as adequate for analyzing a problem under investigation. In any case, the convergences and divergences could be summarized as in Table 19.1, which displays some of the general properties and important requirements of CDA and ECDA. Besides slight divergences, a major difference exists with regard to theoretical aspects. Whereas CDA is mainly based on insights gained within the framework of critical theory, critical linguistics and Foucauldian approaches, ECDA heuristically relies on the concept of ecology as metaphor. Comparable to CDA and its emphasis on the entanglement of sociopolitical contexts, the ecology metaphor reveals the interrelatedness and dynamics of socioecological systems to be analyzed. Fill and Mühlhäusler (2001b: 3) state that the ecology metaphor emphasizes the interconnectedness and diversity of social and natural inhabitants of an environment, that it reveals the factors that sustain diversity, that it stresses the relevance of a good housekeeping and that there are functional relationships between the 296
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Table 19.1 General properties and important requirements of CDA and ECDA CDA (van Dijk, 2015: 467)
ECDA
CDA studies social and political problems as contextualized. The analysis of social problems should be carried out in a multidisciplinary research context. CDA analyzes discursive structures and explains them in view of social interaction and social structures.
ECDA conceives ecological problems as naturally, socially and culturally contextualized. Ecological problems require an integrated and multidisciplinary approach merging theories and methods from different scientific disciplines ECDA analyzes discourses directed to the environment and analyzes them in the framework of human–nature interaction and existing socio-ecological systems. ECDA focuses on how discursive structures enact, confirm, legitimate, reproduce and challenge framings of environmental issues.
CDA focuses on the discursive structures and their way of enacting, confirming, legitimating and reproducing power relations.
inhabitants of an ecology. In this context, language is not estimated to represent a self- contained element processing the outer world, but it is an integrated and ecologically interlinked entity. Against this conceptual background, the concept of language and its use in terms of speech and discourse are ecologically embedded because the ecology metaphor highlights aspects of interrelatedness not only with the social and cognitive, but also with the natural environment (Steffensen and Fill, 2014). This is an important aspect and difference to CDA because emphasizing the “functional relationships with and being part of a wider ecology” (Harré et al., 1999: 1) refers to the fact that talking about and framing the environment in specific terms is a way of framing (representation) and doing things with words (practice) (Mühlhäusler, 2003: 161–176).
Box 19.1 Metaphors and Foot-and-Mouth Disease in the UK in 2001 An ECDA analysis of media accounts shows how different linguistic structures and their use affect how environmental issues are perceived and acted upon. This aspect becomes apparent in Nerlich’s (2004) work on the media framings of the 2001 foot-and-mouth disease in the UK. She investigated the language of media statements made by policy actors in the British newspaper The Guardian and came across variety of so-called war metaphors used to conceptualize countermeasures to be taken against this epizootic. The metaphorical war-frame materialized in linguistic instantiations such as war on FMD, battle against FMD or the last frontline against FMD and was deliberately used to rally support for the brutal and in many cases useless slaughter or stamping out policy applied by the government. Interestingly, the metaphor did not only work in favor of the policy maker’s interests but—later on—backfired and was turned into a literal holocaust by proponents of animal ethics and the National Farmers Union. This reframing highlighted the stamping-out policy as medieval, brutal and misguided and considerably undermined the public
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to support the slaughter policy in future outbreaks of FMD. Thus, metaphors develop certain framings and evaluations of environmental issues. They can, however, not be fully controlled and require an ECDA deconstruction to explore their effective implications which led to the wellknown pyres of cow carcasses and piles of culled cows on British frames and in the end to the public’s resistance against the stamping-out policy (see also Döring and Nerlich, 2009).
Although such theoretical reflections appear now and then (Mühlhäusler and Peace, 2006), a comprehensive account about the theoretical foundations of ECDA or even ELs are still lacking. Trampe (1990) is among the very few who goes beyond using the concept of ecology metaphorically as he develops an ecological theory of language and discourse based on ecological and biological theories. The same holds partly true for Alexander’s (2009) seminal work that provides valuable insight into theoretical and methodological foundations of ECDA and shows through the example of different case studies how microanalyses and macro-analyses could be carried out and combined (Alexander and Stibbe, 2014). Although Alexander’s work does not address ecological discourses explicitly from an ECDA perspective, he practically merges CDA with ECDA approaches and applies them to a variety of topics ranging from general ecological issues to sustainable development. Methodological aspects are very rarely addressed in ELs in general and in ECDA in special. They represent a rather neglected issue in comparison to CDA even though a certain impact from different methodological procedures used in general linguistics can be detected. Besides Döring’s (2005) ECDA work with regard to the analysis of media-metaphorical representations of flooding and Alexander’s (2009) work on environmental discourses, proponents of ECDA methodologically lag behind approaches in CDA. This may be due to the still lacking theoretical foundation which exerts an impact on the still missing reflection on the methodological agenda of ECDA. This problem could be tackled by taking a close look at methods such as grounded theory (Corbin and Strauss, 2008), social psychology (Wetherell and Taylor, 2001) or the methodological combinations applied in CDA (Wodak and Meyer, 2001) as they could easily be applied within or even integrated into an ECDA framework. However, one has to bear in mind that all these approaches hold certain implications which should be fine-tuned to the theoretical framework of ECDA. This would require a comparable approach as outlined by Mühlhäusler (1996: 4) based on Haugen’s (1972: 336) catalog of questions to study and analyze an existing ecology of a given language (Table 19.2). Here, many of the elements could also be taken to develop a tentative attempt to formulate research questions which might help to investigate environmental discourses from an ecological point of view. The questions formulated here form not more than first guiding principles which should be fine-tuned to the object of investigation, the research question and the economic and temporal and institutional context in which the study is performed. Furthermore, the guiding principles are based on the theoretical assumption that language does not constitute a thing or object, but that language is a sum of speech acts in a unique context under specific conditions. Projected on the next higher level, all these kinds of linguistic actions and speech acts develop into a dynamic and overarching structure framing a subject or topic of social relevance under observation (Calvet, 2006). Thus, speech acts directed towards a natural disaster like a storm surge are embedded into the previous discourse(s) revolving around 298
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Table 19.2 Haugen’s catalog of questions to study and analyze an existing ecology of a given language Linguistic ecology
ECDA
What is the classification with regard to other languages?
What are the characteristics of the environmental discourse under investigation with regard to other discourses? Who are the main proponents and/or opponents involved in the environmental discourse and what are their geographic, social, political and other features? In what kind of environmental and social settings does the environmental discourse appear and does it have a specific linguistic or discursive structure? How could the different environmental discourses linguistically be characterized? What internal variation exists synchronically and diachronically? Is there an inherent diachronic tradition and could it be described or even typified? To what degree is the environmental discourse and its constituting textual and text linguistic elements standardized? Who is involved in the environmental discourse and what kind of institutional structure, support and distribute or question it? What are the attitudes of those involved in the discourse towards the discourse itself? Is it possible to develop a typology of the environmental discourse with regard to neighboring ecological discourses?
Who are the users? Location, class religion and other important social indicators.
What are its domains of use? Is there a specific or unrelated use of a language?
What current languages are employed by its users? What internal varieties does the language show? What is the nature of its written traditions? To what degree is the language standardized?
On what kind of support is it based?
What are the attitudes of the speakers towards their language? What is its status in view of a typology of an ecological classification?
storm surges: they stabilize, change or challenge its internal discursive structure. But what does that mean in real terms? Following the schema one could ask: What are the basic characteristics of discourses about storm surges in general? After setting the analytical scenery, the next step would consist in studying its social, geographic, political, cultural, features. This provides and answers the following questions: Who is involved? What has happened? Where has the event taken place and under which circumstances? What is the political and sociocultural and political context? Then, the question arises in which socio-ecological settings the discourse arises and whether a first specific structure could be tackled. The next step analyzes the microstructure of the discourse by investigating whether the different discursive strands possess a typical linguistic structure. Do constitutive key words or metaphors appear in characteristic sub- and super-discourses? In the present case, one could imagine that the discourse of climate change forms a super-discourse against which the occurrence of storm surges is evaluated, whereas more regionally or locally bound sub-discourses about establishing 299
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retention areas form different sub-discourses. These different discursive layers should also be studied with regard to varying diachronic and synchronic framings which help to better understand their interaction and their own structuration. Followed by typological questions, the problem of textual and linguistic standardization should be addressed including an extralinguistic analysis of who is invol