Deutscher, G. (2010) Through the language glass: Why the world looks different in other languages. New York, NY: Metropolitan Books.

Can language affect how we think and perceive the world? Is the ability to discern color hues, for example, a universal constant or a cultural convention? In Through the Language Glass: Why the World Looks Different in Other Languages, acclaimed linguist Guy Deutscher presents a growing body of scientific research that challenges the consensus that the influence of language on thought is trivial. Deutscher addresses the thorny issue of culture’s influence on language and demonstrates how, in ways subtle and profound, one’s language may influence a speaker’s associations, perceptions, and memory. Deutscher’s book focuses the reader’s attention on three areas where language exerts its influence in unexpected ways: color, gender, and space.

The mystery of the color sense in language began, according to Deutscher, in the mid-1800s when British statesman and Greek scholar William Gladstone noticed a peculiar absence of color in Homer’s epic poems, The Iliad and The Odyssey. Homer described the sea, for example, as “wine dark,” the sky “copper,” and oxen “wine colored.” After extensive research, Gladstone concluded that exposure to “haphazard colors of nature . . . may not be enough to set off the progressive training of color vision” (Deutscher, 2010, p. 39). In other words, as current, brain-based scientific research has revealed, the eye “needs to be exposed to a methodically graded range of hues and shades” in order for the brain to recognize color hues (Deutscher, p. 39). In Homer’s time, blue eyes were as rare as blue flowers. Blue dyes and paints were almost nonexistent. At the time, however, linguists universally ridiculed Gladstone’s color theory. In subsequent decades, though, other linguistic scholars would provide evidence to bolster Gladstone’s theory. In time, it was discovered that a word for “blue” was absent in many historical texts, including the Old Testament and the ancient Vedic poems. Moreover, virtually none of the ancient languages had a word for blue.

Eventually it was revealed that some language speakers—Sumatrans, Nubians, and the Klamath Indians of Oregon, for example—have no specific name in their language for blue. In fact, in a number of languages, “blue” is considered a shade of black. Does this mean, then, that if speakers don’t have a specific word in their language for blue, that they are unable to perceive different hues and shades of blue? The answer, according to Deutscher, is yes! A bounty of recent brain-based research reveals that when language speakers have no word for a color such as blue, and have little or no exposure to various shades of the color, they have difficulty discerning shades and hues of blue. In short, a Chagall painting, with its emphasis on multiple grades and hues of blue, is perceived differently by different language speakers.

Deutscher writes that although scientists do not thoroughly understand the relationship between the linguistic and visual circuits of the brain, they do know that the sensation of color occurs in the region of the brain where it continuously engages in a highly complex system of processing called “normalization.” Because color perception relies on memories and “stored impressions,” it has been demonstrated, for example, “that a perfectly gray picture of a banana can appear slightly yellow to us because the brain remembers bananas as yellow and so normalizes the sensation toward what it expects to see” (Deutscher, p. 249). Deutscher heaps praise on William Gladstone for his unorthodox and highly controversial theory about color perception which, based on current evidence based research, vindicates Gladstone and removes him from a long list of crackpot language theorists.

The second area of Deutscher’s research focuses on the influence of gendered languages on thought. In a series of elegant studies, Deutscher demonstrates how one’s native language can influence memory and associations. For example, in one gendered language study, participants attributed masculine properties to nonsensical words with masculine (“o”) endings while simultaneously assigning feminine traits to meaningless words with feminine (“a”) endings. “The evidence so far,” asserts Deutscher, “leaves little doubt that the idiosyncrasies of a gender system exert a significant influence on speakers’ thoughts” (Deutscher, p. 214).

The most interesting influence of language on thought is probably Deutscher’s examination of language and space. The Guugu Yimithirr is an Aboriginal tribe from Australia, responsible for introducing the word “kangaroo” into the English vernacular. For every 10 words spoken, the Guugu Yimithirr language uses a fixed cardinal coordinate (i.e., north, south, east, west). From the time of infancy, a member of the Guugu Yimithirr is inculcated with knowledge of the cardinal directions. One is always aware, for example, that “John is just north of the tree, [or] that . . . that the neighbor left the car keys on the southern edge of the western table” (Deutscher, p. 166.). Conversely, English speakers rely on egocentric coordinates: what is to the left, to the right, in front of, or behind oneself.

Do the Guugu Yimithirr therefore perceive their environment—and reality—differently from English speakers who don’t rely on geographic coordinates? According to Deutscher, the answer must be yes! If a language speaker is constantly aware of geographic directions, the “habit creates a layer of spatial thinking and memory that ‘we’ who speak egocentric languages, don’t need to have, and this type of geographic awareness has profound implications for orientation and the perception of space” (De Silva, 2010). A Guugu Yimithirr could be lost in a cave or a forest, yet still be able to describe with perfect pitch where north, east, south, and west are located.

Through the Language Glass is an entertaining, extensively researched book with nearly 50 pages of citations and endnotes. I first read a summary of Deutscher’s book in the New York Times last fall. I found the subject so intriguing that I chose to present the book at CATESOL, Long Beach, California USA, in April. As I had expected, during the Question&Answer session after my presentation, some audience members questioned the merits of Deutscher’s challenge to today’s widely held theory that language is primarily biologically based and not culturally influenced. Moreover, hadn’t Benjamin Whorf’s 1940s theory of linguistic relativity been so thoroughly discredited over the years that to revisit the subject was folly?

In the New York Times summary, Deutscher is harsh in his criticism of Benjamin Whorf’s languages theories, particularly because they were totally devoid of scientific evidence. Deutscher, however, argues persuasively that the influence of culture and language on thought has been vastly underestimated. He provides a bounty of solid scientific evidence to support his claim that some languages and cultures oblige speakers to “create habits of mind” that do, indeed, influence thought.

As the field of neuroscience advances, the ability to assess and measure the influence of language on thought will continue to grow. Deutscher’s entertaining, fact-filled book, Through a Language Glass, has deigned to reignite an old debate about language, culture, and thought. His efforts deserve high praise.

Cassandra Giesen holds a MA/Education TESOL degree from California State University, San Bernardino. She tutors and hosts ESL students at her home near San Francisco where she owns and operates ESL Homestay California (www.eslhomestaycalifornia.com).

REFERENCES

De Silva, M. (2010, Nov. 9). Guy Deutscher on ‘Through the language glass.’ [Web log post]. The Paris Review Daily. Retrieved from http://www.theparisreview.org/blog/2010/11/09/guy-deutscher-on-‘through-the-language-glass’/

Deutscher, G. (2010, Aug. 26). “Does your language shape how you think?” The New York Times, p. MM42. Retrieved from http://www.nytimes.com/2010/08/29/magazine/29language-t.html