J-L Dessalles
excerpts from the English translation draft of
“Aux origines du langage” - Paris: Hermès 2000
(to be published by Oxford University Press)
Protolanguage
is an idea coined by the American linguist Derek Bickerton. His study of pidgin
and creole languages and of the differences between the two has led him to
posit the hypothesis that in the past the progenitors of our species spoke a
less elaborate form of language, which he calls protolanguage. A vestige of
this form of communication survives in our modes of behaviour. What type of
communication was possible through protolanguage? And what can we know about
the intelligence of those who spoke it?
8.1 Communicating just with words
[…]
Bickerton
(1990) came to the idea of protolanguage through the study of Hawaiian pidgins,
which he compared with other pidgins and with the creole languages that are
often follow them. A pidgin is a simplified mode of verbal expression,
typically spoken by adults who speak also a native language which is different.
People may find themselves constrained by a variety of circumstances to
communicate without using an established language. The best known of these
circumstances is slavery, which brought people from very disparate linguistic backgrounds
into contact with each other. In the Caribbean, for example, thousands of
Africans transplanted from different ethnic groups found themselves suddenly
thrown together; and in conditions of forced labour, they were cut off from all
contact with other speakers of their own language. More recently in Hawaii,
economic and commercial reasons brought together people from various parts of
the Pacific, such as Japan, Korea, the Philippines, etc. Finding that they have
to communicate with one another, or just responding to the normal human
instinct which makes the normal person speak to other people, such adults very
quickly devise a code of communication by adapting the only linguistic resource
they happen to have in common, which in Hawaii happened to be either English or
Hawaiian. Under normal circumstances, foreign immigrants soon pick up a modicum
of competence in the local language. But when the number of simultaneous
immigrants exceeds a certain level, the standard form of the language becomes less
accessible to them and ceases
to function as a model, and a form of pidgin soon emerges. Pidgin is a language
apparently without syntax, reminiscent of the speech of the character of
Tarzan. Here are a few sentences, unconnected with each other, from Taï Boï, a
French-Vietnamese pidgin (Bickerton 1995: 163):
Moi faim. Moi tasse. Lui aver permission repos. Demain moi retour campagne. Vous pas argent moi stop travail. Monsieur content aller danser. Lui la frapper. Bon pas aller. Pas travail. Assez, pas connaître. Moi compris tu parler.[1]
The next
extract is from Hawaiian pidgin (Bickerton 1990: 120), followed by English
equivalents, the first of them word-for-word:
[187]
Aena tu
macha churen, samawl churen, haus mani pei
And too
much children, small children, house money pay.
And I had
too many children, very young ones, amd {and} I had to pay the rent.
This type
of rudimentary speech is not confined to colonial situations. Bickerton quotes
an exchange from Russonorsk, a commercial language used for almost exclusively
mercantile purposes among Russian and Scandinavian sailors (Bickerton 1990:
121):
R : What say ? Me no understand.
N: Expensive, Russian – goodbye.
R: Nothing. Four half.
N: Give four, nothing good.
R: No brother. How me sell
cheap? Big expensive flour on Russia this year.
N: You no true say.
R: Yes. Big true, me no lie, expensive flour.
N: If you buy – please four pud (measure of 36 lbs). If you no buy – then goodbye.
R: No, nothing brother, please throw on deck.
The subject
under discussion is bartering flour for fish. The structuring of the sentences,
in its almost total lack of grammar, is very close to that of the two extracts
from pidgins. What is remarkable is that the people who are speaking like this
are all perfectly capable of expressing themselves properly in their native
languages.
[…]
Bickerton’s
structuring idea is that protolanguage, related in his view to pidgins, the
speech of very young children, or the language used by Genie, is not a degraded
form of normal language, but is a functional system of communication in its own
right:
Genie knows
what past tense means, knows when it is appropriate to use it, and even knows
at least one of the ways of marking it in English. But she cannot incorporate
this knowledge into her normal ongoing speech. . . . This suggests not that she
has merely failed to acquire a full
version of human language, but that she has
acquired something other than full human
language—an alternative means of communication that incorporates some
features of language but rigorously excludes others. (Bickerton 1990: 117)
Bickerton sees
protolanguage as a fossil, a behavourial vestige with which each of us is
endowed. We are able, effortlessly and instantaneously, to adopt a pidgin form
of speech, using words from our native language. Without the slightest
reflexion, words come to us naturally, in an approximate order; we just
spontaneously omit grammatical words, articles, prepositions, relative
pronouns, markers of tense or aspect. In Bickerton’s view, this reveals the
presence of a fossilized competence, an innate expertise which was once the
normal form of communication among members of Homo erectus, the species from which our own derived. It is a
vestige of their speech that survives in us and which we can fall back on at
times when expression through normal speech is impossible.
8.2 A language
that is not learned
The example of
the deaf children of Nicaragua (cf. Chapter 3) fits very neatly with
Bickerton’s hypothesis on the existence of a protolinguistic competence. The
level of communication achieved by the deaf adolescents who have been to school
is a form of pidgin. The signs they put together are more or less separate from
each other and the sequences are brief, rather like statements in pidgin which
are usually restricted to four or five words. Two other features of their
communication that are reminiscent of pidgins are the fact that the
protolanguage of signs was developed rapidly and spontaneously by the
youngsters themselves, and of course the fact that they seem to have been
already too old to learn how to make their protolanguage evolve towards a
language with syntax.
[…]
The form of language found in pidgins has two
essential properties: it is functional and it is spontaneous. These two
properties are lacking in any debased forms of language that we might observe
or imagine. Protolanguage does enable hearers to construct meanings which
roughly fit the meanings that speakers have had in their thoughts, though this
requires that the contexts be sufficiently restricted. For instance, the
protosentence ‘And too much children, small children, house money pay’ says
enough for us to be able to grasp at least the gist of the speaker’s lament.
That is a very positive quality, which might well be absent from other
conceivable simplifications of normal syntax, such as omitting all nouns or
every second word. If all the semantically weak parts of a statement are
omitted, like the grammatical words or the inflections of nouns and verbs, this
can often prevent the meaning from being plain. Such omissions from the
sentence ‘‘The girl who was stolen the money has gone”
would result in ‘Girl steal money go’, which
might make it appear that it was the girl who stole the money. In
protolanguage, the words ‘money’ and ‘girl’
would be juxtaposed and the statement would probably be made in two sentences: ‘Steal money girl. Girl go.’ There is still an
ambiguity; but the wrong meaning is not so unavoidable. Protolanguage is not
the result of a rough simplification of language; it is a tool for
communicating meanings that has its own organization.
[…]
If we
accept that conclusion, and if protolanguage was one of the characteristic
behaviours of a species of hominids, it must be possible to show it was locally
optimal (cf. Chapter 6), that is to say that no minor variation in the
competence could have made it any better at fulfilling its biological function.
The difficulty that arises when we propose to evaluate its local optimality is
that we have still not defined what the function of protolanguage was. A glance
at its structure tells us that the main feature of it is that it includes all
the semantic elements essential to comprehension and only them. The result is
an economical system which, though not nearly as accurate as language, none the
less does provide a measure of efficacy.
[…]
8.3 Protosemantics
This hypothesis
will achieve greater coherence if we try to understand what sort of meanings
protolanguage can express and how it is adapted to convey them. In what follows,
we shall argue that protolanguage is adapted to the expression of
protosemantics, that is to say a field of meanings accessible to Homo erectus. What might such
protosemantics consist of? In accordance with the principles established in
Chapter 6, protosemantics cannot amount merely to a weaker version of Homo sapiens’s abilities in semantic
representation. It has to be a mode of cognitive organization that is
functional and locally optimal. So any arbitrary division, such as restricting
its scope to concrete entities or to immediately visible objects, would be
inappropriate. If protolanguage ever existed as a means of communication proper
to a species, then we must assume that its existence necessarily involved a form of protosemantics. Members of that species
communicated about something, and it is that something that we must try to
reconstruct. This is an endeavour fraught with potential dangers, as what we
are about to embark on is an attempt to reinvent if not the mind of Homo erectus, at least some aspects of
the cognitive functioning of that mind. The main danger is that, in the absence
of subjects on whom to test any hypotheses, we might get carried away and end
up piling conjecture upon gratuitous conjecture in a world where the only limit
to such things is imposed by authors’ lack of imagination. I suggest a more
prudent course. The problem facing us (how are we to define protosemantics in
relation to protolanguage?) is relatively constrained in four parameters, as
follows: 1) protosemantics must be a functional field of meanings; 2) it must
be locally optimal for a given biological function; 3) it must subsist in
modern humans, either as a fossilized competence or as a functional subset of our semantic competence; 4)
protolanguage, as we understand it from the study of pidgin, must be locally
optimal for the expression of this protosemantics. It is clear that if we
accept these constraints, the danger of fanciful conjecture will be greatly
reduced. Added to that there is the fact that our objective is the relatively
modest one of positing, if possible, a few minimal hypotheses aimed at making
more sense of the existence of protolanguage, in the full knowledge that they
may well be criticized and require revision.
The basic
idea is that the words put together in protolanguage are a way of bringing to mind concrete scenes, things experienced or imagined.
On hearing a word like ‘cat’ we may picture either a prototypical cat or else a
particular one that is familiar to us. Similarly, ‘door-mat’ readily brings to
mind the image of an object. In a particular context familiar to two speakers,
both words would very likely convey the image of a particular animal, the cat
of the house, and the image of a particular object, the mat at the front door.
Combining the two words into the statement ‘cat mat’ requires us to join the
two images together. We possess the ability to combine images in a way that is not arbitrary. Clearly, there was a strong chance
that the cat in the example might be on the mat, if they both belong to the
same house. But there are an infinite number of other possibilities: the cat
might have been lying under the mat or to one side of it; the mat might well be
under the cat but in the bedroom; both the cat and the mat might be floating
about inside the kitchen; the cat might be either walking towards the mat or away from it; or the cat might even
have changed colour or shape to look like the mat; and so on. Most people,
however, if the circumstances are right, will spontaneously picture the first
image of the cat dozing on the mat by the front door. This human ability to
combine images in a particular way that will be foreseeable by another person
is largely a mystery. It must rely on the use of actual situations seen as more
or less prototypical, such as a cat that is in the habit of dozing on the mat
by the front door. However, we also readily create scenes that we have never
experienced by combining images that are purely imaginary, such as the cat
lying under the mat or balancing the mat on its nose. This astonishing
competence no doubt uses our ability to associate in order to recall memorized
visual elements and gauges the scene envisaged with reference to constraints
inherent in each entity (the respective sizes and weights of the objects, their
power of autonomous movement, etc) and to their expected behaviour (typically,
a motionless cat is sitting and asleep). Nevertheless, it must be acknowledged
that this process of synthesis of mental images remains largely obscure. No
doubt future advances in psychology and the technologies of virtual reality
systems will shed light on this.
Let us
assume that this ability to construct scenes out of our combining of mental
images is real and that Homo erectus
also possessed it. We can now understand how the link between protolanguage and
the making of images can happen.
[…]
It is clear
that combination of images is an unreliable process; and for this there are two
reasons. The hearer risks combining images in a completely unexpected way or
failing to combine any at all. It is therefore the responsibility of the
speaker to describe the scene in a way that facilitates the hearer’s task.
Without the active cooperation of the speaker, this mode of communication
cannot work. In the example, if the meaning was that [196] somebody stole money belonging to the girl, the speaker will
prefer to say ‘Steal money girl. Girl go.’ By putting ‘money’ adjacent to ‘girl’, the speaker biasses the hearer
towards making an image in which the money belongs to the girl; by separating
‘steal’ from ‘girl’, the speaker biasses the hearer away from imagining a scene
in which the girl does the stealing; and by repeating ‘girl’ in front of ‘go’,
the speaker helps the hearer to make a scene in which it is the girl who
leaves.
Can we say
that protosemantics, as discussed above, meets the four constraints we imposed?
The answer is certainly positive for constraints numbers 1 and 3: if we accept
that our ancestors possessed the mechanism of combination of images and scenes,
then it is obviously a functional system still extant in
modern human beings. Constraint number 4 requires that protolanguage must be
locally optimal for conveying representations of protosemantics. This is not an
easy point to verify, though we do possess two pieces of evidence pointing in
the right direction. One is, as Bickerton observes, that the words of
protolanguage as suggested by pidgin are all words with semantic content. Even
modern human beings, who are able to use words that are more or less empty of separate
meaning, such as prepositions, conjunctions, or relative pronouns, omit them
when expressing themselves in protolanguage. The second comes from word order.
Although protolanguage is supposedly devoid of syntax, its word order is not
entirely arbitrary. The grouping of words into semantic components is crucial
for the drawing of any proper interpretation. It should be noted that this
constraint is greatly relaxed in normal speech. In the sentence ‘I sent, on the
day before she came, John’s book which was on the table to Mary’, the words
‘sent’ and ‘Mary’ are separated by five words with semantic content, a thing
which would be quite impossible in protolanguage. The structure of
protolanguage looks as though it is determined by the requirements of protosemantics,
which strongly suggests that it is a linguistic system well adapted to its
function, in accordance with constraint number 4.
Constraint
number 2, relating to the locally optimal character of protosemantics,
is much more difficult to verify. The fact is we have not yet broached the
function of protosemantics. Can we define what usefulness individuals might see
in using the words of protolanguage to communicate an image or a concrete scene
to their fellows?
[…]
Does the
limitation of mental imagery to concrete
entities rule it out, as Bickerton seems to suggest? An answer to that question
should not be based on the abilities of present-day humans. Concrete
protosemantics might have been quite adequate to the needs of hominids who had
no access to abstractions. Abstractions like the fidelity or trust cited in
Bickerton’s example are qualitatively different from the images that concrete
words can bring to mind in a reliably systematic way. If I say ‘cat’, I can
make a pretty sure guess at the type of mental image you will form, especially
if the context is clear, for instance if we have both just seen a cat walk
past. If I say ‘fidelity’, I have no way of knowing what image you will form,
if you do in fact form one. In the first case, communication is possible,
because the speaker can foresee the signified constructed by the hearer; in the
second, Bickerton is right to hold that communication cannot take place if it
has to rely solely on the construction of an image. Hominids must have been
able to function in the first of these two modes, communicating through the
exclusive use of concrete words which were adequate to conveying scenes in a
way that was more or less deterministic. If one accepts this description of
communication among hominids, it is reasonable to conclude that they had no
abstract representational abilities and that this constitutes a fundamental
difference between protosemantics as used by them and semantics as used by us.
8.4
Prelanguage, a language without sentences
[…]
8.5 The lexicon of protolanguage
[…]
[1] Approximate equivalents in
English-based pidgin: Me hungry. Me cup. Him have permission rest. Tomorrow me
return country. You no money me stop work. Sir happy go dance. Him hit her.
Good not go. Not work. Enough not know. Me understand you speak.