Steven Crane

December 12, 2007

Language and Society introsem with Lera Boroditsky

Final Paper

Nicaraguan Sign Language: The Birth and Transmission of a New Language

Where Does Language Come From?

It is a remarkable ability of children to master language. Adults are usually those who master complex bodies of knowledge, that is, it takes years of experience and detailed, explicit instruction in classrooms to acquire similarly complex abilities such as programming a computer, reading and writing, or finding and incorporating academic sources in a scholarly paper. Explaining the ease with which children learn language, Noam Chomsky of MIT and many of his followers including Steven Pinker now of Harvard argue that there is something special and specific to language in the human brain that causes certain patterns and characteristics to arise in the learning and expression of individual languages, and among many languages. What that something is varies from source to source and is not yet something tangible like a specific chunk of brain or sequence of genes, but their theories are often well-articulated and accepted. Though Chomsky and Pinker are both powerful intellectuals in the arena of psycholinguistics, their claims are not without controversy or viable alternative.

Instead, it could very well be that children master language because they are typically exposed to it continually every day of their lives. To counter this, one might argue that children are also driven around in cars quite often, or see their caretakers cooking meals on a daily basis, yet they don’t spontaneously develop the ability to drive or cook without instruction; however, children lack the strength and motor control to accomplish either of these tasks until later in life. Perhaps if children were born with bodies powerful enough to drive cars, the symbolic understanding that certain colors of lights and squiggles on metal signs are meant to determine the behavior of the driver, and an understanding of Newtonian physics, then they would be able to drive without instruction at the age of five, but they don’t. Instead, most children are born with all the tools and abilities to receive language. The lack of innately skilled teenage drivers could also be explained by postulating, as Professor Boroditsky has done in discussion, that what is innate are certain learning modules that are applicable to certain things, but not others. Further, these learning modules are not specific to language; language just happens to be something that humans are particularly adept at learning, analyzing, and finding patterns in.

Do children have an innate knowledge of language structure and an instinct to express this inborn ability in a certain critical period of their early life? Or do they simply have a certain absorbency resulting from a stronger ability to draw information from their environments when they are younger? In other words, are children more like pre-programmed computers that only need a few switches thrown for language to develop, or are they more like selectively-permeable sponges that absorb linguistic stimuli especially adeptly? While children are neither computers or sponges, the purpose of this paper will be to distill from one specific example, Nicaraguan Sign Language, what linguistic evidence is and is not present and what conclusions are or aren’t valid as drawn from that evidence. As it turns out, the phenomena of Nicaraguan Sign Language creation is often misconstrued by many who neglect certain historical events. The language wasn’t as much a spontaneous creation from nothing, but more a gradual creation with a variety of inputs and influences, making the situation and subsequent experiments less ideal than some of the researchers working there present. Despite the complications surrounding the birth of Nicaraguan Sign Language, and the situation of the birth of the language aside, there is strong evidence for the poverty of the stimulus argument. In other words, new signers of Nicaraguan Sign Language do express certain constructions to which they’ve not previously had experience. Therefore, the case of Nicaraguan Sign Language, though it may not be a scientifically ideal situation, supports the theory that children create and solidify certain grammatical constructs to which they have never been exposed.

The History of the Deaf in Nicaragua

According to Steven Pinker’s understanding of the birth of ISN, “until recently there were no sign languages at all in Nicaragua because its deaf people remained isolated from one another” (36) and that it took the Sandinista Revolution to found a centralized school for the deaf. This school, Pinker admits, was dogmatic and tried to force deaf children to learn lip-reading and speech, and failed in these pursuits. However, Pinker maintains that it was on the playgrounds, between classes, and on the bus rides to and from school that formerly isolated and non-linguistic children spontaneously developed a pidgin sign language called LSN (el Lenguaje de Signos Nicaraguense). This language was a pidgin language in that it relied on many circumlocutions and indirect forms of expression without certain convenient grammatical devices. As new, younger deaf students came to the school, however, they picked up LSN, and actually changed the language in an amazingly enriching way. They took LSN, streamlined its circumlocutions, created grammatical devices, and made it a highly rich, expressive sign language known by a different name, ISN (el Idioma de Signos Nicaraguense or NSL, Nicaraguan Sign Language). To Pinker, it was “a language ... born before our eyes” (37) out of virtually nothing.

Pinker’s conclusions are based on the work of Judy Kegl and Ann Senghas. In the article “Children Creating Language: How Nicaraguan Sign Language Acquired a Spatial Grammar” by Ann Senghas and Marie Coppola of Barnard College of Columbia University and the University of Rochester, respectively, Senghas and Coppola conclude from their experimental evidence that “sequential cohorts of interacting young children collectively possess the capacity not only to learn, but also to create, language” (1). In other words, they argue that their results prove that young children have the ability to introduce and unify systems of grammar. Gary Morgan of the City University London and Judy Kegl of the University of Southern Maine also have an article, “Nicaraguan Sign Language and Theory of Mind: the issue of critical periods and abilities.” Of more pertinence to this paper than their conclusions on language and theory of mind is their description of the situation in Nicaragua surrounding the birth of ISN. Kegl first visited Nicaragua in 1986 and spent years studying ISN, especially with relation to the new learners of ISN. Her portrait of the birth of ISN is that which Pinker shares: a situation with an absence of language turning into a full language.

However, the historical accuracy of their account of Nicaraguan deaf education was put under question in 2005 when Laura Polich wrote her book The Emergence of the Deaf Community in Nicaragua. Polich of Lamar University spent a number of years doing field observations of deaf students in twenty different schools, conducted polls of deaf students and teachers of deaf students, and surveyed 225 deaf individuals regarding their backgrounds. Instead of the nearly ideal linguistic environment suggested by Pinker, Kegl, and Senghas, Polich proposes, “the sign language in Nicaragua did not develop in a vacuum, but owes a debt to multiple influences” (168). These influences were the various home-sign systems (simple systems of rudimentary gestures used around a home with a deaf child for day-to-day purposes) that students brought with them to schools, occasional Spanish and American signs picked up from dictionaries, Thomas Gibson, an American Peace Corps volunteer who taught ASL, and Adrian Perez, a deaf student who spent eight years in Spain using sign language. Further, while the Sandinista revolution did bring marginally more deaf pupils to schools for the deaf, Polich concludes from hundreds of interviews, “the pre-revolutionary schools… were much more eclectic and open to sign language than the post-revolutionary schools for deaf children, which were severely, adamantly, and dogmatically oral” (157). Polich argues that it was a matter of the huge community of deaf individuals that arose in the 1980s that gave birth to ISN, for there had been many instances of deaf individuals interacting and even attending the same school before then, but it was only after the number of deaf individuals in the community hit what she calls a “critical mass” (155) that ISN was born and generated.

The thoroughness with which Polich conducted her research lends credibility to what she presents as facts. ISN was not created in a vacuum, and it was perhaps out of the necessity of building a community that new learners took to the language with such gusto. The poverty of the stimulus argument (at least relative to language innateness) contends that there are certain characteristics that emerge in children’s speech which are not present in the speech of those from whom they learn. That is, the response provoked (new utterances) could not have been the result of external stimuli alone, something must be innate. The complications to the picture of how ISN was generated must be taken into account when considering scientific conclusions that depend on the poverty of the stimulus argument.

Experimental Evidence

Take two-hundred infants straight from their mothers’ wombs, raise them on a previously uninhabited island by caretakers who used no language, and then bring in some psycholinguists to track the development of their utterances from incoherent babble language, and from creation down through the generations. Scientifically rigorous as this experiment would be, the experiment facetiously proposed by Dr. Lera Boroditsky in class discussion clearly would be cost-prohibitive and morally questionable, plus it’s not clear that any language would ever develop, especially not in the first generation. That leaves psycholinguistic researchers with the dilemma of finding a situation that has certain traits similar to the “infant island” experiment that would make it ideal for the study of how languages are born, learned, and passed down to new learners. They look for the emergence of a new language, and a common place to do that is when a pidgin language, a fairly basic second-language used between two groups who do not speak the other’s language, becomes a creole language, a more advanced language that seems to arise out of nowhere with certain linguistic traits not inherited from any parent language.

While not as ideal an experiment as Infant Island, consider the experiment outlined in the article “Children Creating Language” Senghas and Coppola of Barnard College of Columbia University and the University of Rochester, respectively. This article, published in 2000 in the Journal of Psychological Science studied the emergence of spatial modulation. Spatial modulation is a grammatical structure common to all studied sign languages (Senghas referencing Supalla, 1995) in which the signer takes regular signs and instead of producing them neutrally in front of the chest, gives them certain grammatical distinctions such as person, number or location in time by modulating where the sign appears: left, right, up, or down relative to the chest. They focused on a particular type of spacial modulation: shared reference. Shared reference refers to the situation in which a signer places a sign in a specific spatial location and then further signs in that specific spatial location also refer to the previous sign which was placed there. For example, when outlining the characters in a narrative, a signer might sign a person into existence in the left of the signer’s field of vision. Later, transitive verb signs such as “hit,” “love,” and “thank” might all be produced to the left, in the same direction as the man in the narrative, indicating that he was the one hit, loved, and thanked.

In summary of the experiment, they took their twenty-four Nicaraguan experimental participants who had each had at least four and a half years of exposure to ISN. The test participants were split into two cohorts, one of the older generation of signers who learned ISN at an earlier stage, and one of the younger generation of signers who had learned ISN at a later stage in the language’s development. They had the participants view a two-minute animated cartoon, and then videotaped the participants signing the narrative of the story to a deaf peer. Using the data from the videotapes, they then analyzed them in a variety of ways, looking for overall levels of fluency, use of spatial modulation, and examples of shared reference.

The results of their experiment suggest that spatial modulations were used more often and more adeptly by signers who had been exposed to ISN at an earlier age than those who hadn’t, and further, when they did use spatial modulations, it was most likely to be in the context of shared reference and not just as a general increase in spatial modulation. Also, they found that the signers exposed earlier in life were also more fluent as judged by morphemes per minute than their counterparts who were exposed to ISN later in life, despite being younger and having had less overall practice and exposure than most of those in the older cohort.

Concluding, Senghas and Coppola postulate that this evidence supports the idea that each subsequent generation of signers of ISN are creating and shaping their language as they go along learning it. They argue that it is more than just a random mutation of language, or an accidental error. Instead, it is a positive influence on the language in a profound way, “enabl[ing] long-distance grammatical relationships among words” (5). Further, the greater prevalence of spatial modulations and shared reference in younger signers was not simply a matter of the children having grabbed on to one aspect of language and overusing it, because those same children were also the ones who had greater overall fluency. Also, more than just the regularization of a formerly inconsistently-applied rule, the changes the children made were permanent. That is, the situation was not analogous to an English-speaking child who says, “I holded the cat” because he heard the words “scolded,” and “folded” and regularized the irregular verb-form “held;” instead, the new signers took one small, rarely-used artifact from the language of their teachers and made it a far more universal rule. They allowed their language greater flexibility and efficiency, and made it similar to older, better-established sign languages such as ASL which also uses shared reference. Finally, the new cohort of ISN signers did indeed create a new interpretation to the language that was previously absent, Senghas and Coppola claim. They say, “only members of the second cohort interpret the modulations as limiting potential referents” (5). In other words, it’s only the new generation of signers who take spatial modulations to be indicative of any sort of specific, limited meaning. The old cohort may use spatial reference from time to time, but for them, the spatial reference might mean something, but it is not something specific, and it is not a hard and fast rule as it is for the new cohort.

Senghas and Coppola say they chose to study spatial modulation specifically because it was not present in the signers’ linguistic environment, that is, it was not present in spoken Spanish or in signs borrowed directly from common Nicaraguan gestures. A point of contention, however, is regarding their assertion that spatial modulation is not present in the linguistic environment. If my personal experiences with Spanish in Mexico and Costa Rica and with the English language are any indication, people speaking language often use their hands, even, sometimes, in spatially-referent ways. For example, I might point my hands at myself when emphasizing that I had done something, gesture to a “you” to whom I was speaking when emphasizing something that person had done, and (most importantly), I might extend an open hand in a third direction when introducing a third, absent person as a metaphorical representation of that person in relation to myself. Therefore, it is hard to accept the assertion that there were no-spatially referent stimuli available to the first generation of ISN creators and users.

However, what is clear from their experiment is that the second cohort of ISN signers did indeed employ advanced linguistic structures far more often than the first cohort. The new generation had and employed the ability to systematize their language, and affect it in a major way using newly-created grammatical structures and rules in their language. More than just introducing new slang or modifying individual words as are the contributions that most generations make to well-established languages, Nicaraguan children created a new grammatical construction, as if it were innate. What’s more, this construction, supposedly unbeknownst to the signers of cohort two, is a common characteristic that’s indeed universal to all known sign languages.

Toward Theories of Language Acquisition

Very rarely are psycholinguists granted the opportunity to study a language from its inception, but in Nicaragua over the course of a few decades there seemed to emerge a language where none existed before. There is virtual consensus that Nicaragua in the twentieth century is one of the richest sources on the emergence of a language available to researchers; however, rich as it may be, it is still not the infant island experiment and is full of possible theoretical holes. Further, the history of the deaf in Nicaragua is not as clear-cut as a scientific experiment would require. Laura Polich spent an entire book detailing the gradual emergence of a deaf community in Nicaragua over the course of seven decades, far more than the two decades that Pinker, Kegl, and Senghas usually reference. Further, it’s not clear (and probably never could be clear) whether the signers of cohort two all spontaneously developed spatial modulations with shared reference, or whether one particularly insightful signer thought to employ that construction one day, and people ended up copying him. In a sample size that’s so small, it’s difficult to draw sweeping conclusions about the nature of the language in general, let alone all languages in general and all brains which produce language.

Senghas and Coppola show the emergence of a new linguistic trait among a cohort of signers of ISN. This process is fairly common among the fairly uncommon phenomena of the emergence of creole languages from pidgin languages. Does the emergence of novel grammatical devices support the notion that there are certain linguistic traits that will arise in all languages? If that’s true, what is the origin of these universal characteristics? Is it an innate result, arising from a “distinct piece of the biological makeup of our brains” (Pinker 18) or a “genetic basis for language acquisition?” (Chomsky viii). Or perhaps is it just a symptom of living on the same earth, traveling through the same three-dimensional space, feeling the same forces of gravity and power that give disparate languages universal structures?

In the end, neither Nicaraguan Sign Language nor any creole could provide exhaustive evidence for any universal truth regarding the level of innateness of language, the characteristics and qualifications of that innateness, or theories of a universal grammar or language instinct. In fact, any claim that something is “universal” whether on the level of individual brains or among the world’s languages is virtually impossible to prove conclusively. Further, theories that children possess learning modules that are widely applicable to multiple things, including language are also supported by the creolization process: children might simply pick up on an occasionally-used or accidentally-used structure, find it useful, use it often, and thereby add it to the language. However, the search of a theory consistent with the findings of the psycholinguistic study of ISN has led me to conclude that the birth and characteristics of ISN are indeed two small data points on the grand balance of competing linguistic theories that fall on the plate of the likes of Pinker and Chomsky. Granted, there are a number of books and articles on this topic not available through the Stanford library and database system, thus there are probably theories and interpretations not even addressed in this paper. Also, the main scientific work examined in this paper was chosen because it examined and attempted to draw conclusions about the innateness of language, while others exist which may offer different conclusions based on similar evidence. However, despite the flaws in the situation of ISN and in the theories of language innateness, if one suspends suspicion temporarily, he or she could safely draw the conclusion that ISN did emerge rather spontaneously, and that successive generations of ISN learners generate and shape the language in profound ways, as if to “bring it up to scratch” with other world sign languages.

Works Cited

Supalla, T. (1995). An implicational hierarchy in verb agreement in American Sign Language. Unpublished manuscript, University of Rochester, Rochester, NY.

Senghas, A., & Coppola, M. (2001). Children creating language: “How Nicaraguan Sign Language acquired a spatial grammar.” Psychological Science, 12, 323-328.

Polich, L. 2005. The Emergence of the deaf community in Nicaragua: "With sign language you can learn so much." Washington, DC: Gallaudet University Press.

Pinker, S. 1994. The Language Instinct: “How the Mind Creates Language.” New York, NY. Harper Perennial.

Chomsky, Noam. 2006. Language and Mind: Third Edition. Cambridge, NY. Cambridge University Press.

More Nicaraguan Sign Language Shtuff

The central article from Science by Ann Senghas and others. It's called

Children Creating Core Properties of Language: Evidence from an Emerging Sign Language in Nicaragua

After hunting around fruitlessly on ebscohost, I finally found the central paper which all the commentaries I read were commentating on. This is the original paper from 2004 that has spurred a lot of controversy, with some using it to support the "language instinct" theory and others refuting that claim. I will probably refer to it in depth in my paper, which will be the next blog. For now, let's set the scene:

So first the bare facts that (at least I consider to be) are minimally controversial. These come from The Emergence of the Deaf Community in Nicaragua which was written by Laura Polich who focused more on the society and the progression of the deaf community.

1. In 1979 a researcher named Thomas Gibson found no deaf community in the country, but by 1986, Laura Polich and Ann Senghas found an established deaf community.
   
2. In 1981 the Vocational Center for the Disabled (COD) and it adopted a heterogeneous system of communication which was an early collaboration of former, basic systems.
   
3. By 1986 it had become a full language in use at the COD, and this was when Judy Kegl, came onto the scene and started her study of NSL (Nicaraguan Sign Language) or ISN (Idioma de Senas de Nicaragua).

In the chapter on the emergence of language, Polich searches for the reason behind the language eruption in 1986. She considers the hypothesis that "simply bringing young deaf, previously isolated children together will produce and eruption of a language." But disproves it by pointing out that this had happened many times before in Nicaragua. She also points out that there must be sufficient numbers for a sign language to develop, a "critical mass" as she puts it, though does not define it. She does say it must be more than twenty, though. She also makes another surprising claim. I was under the impression that deaf education was made possible after the Sandinista revolution (in 1979), but she claims that "The pre-revolutionary schools in Managua were much more eclectic and open to sign language than the post-revolutionary schools for deaf children, which were severely, adamantly, and dogmatically oral." An oral environment clearly won't be conducive to sign language, so why the flourishing of ISN after the revolution? The chapter dwindles off after that and never really returns to this question, though it might have been implicated that the stronger formation of a deaf community at that point was the impetus for language.


Signs of Evolution - A Scientific News Source on ISN

A couple quotes that attempt to sum up Senghas's article:

"The researchers found that older users of the new language used a relatively simple form, without formal grammar — whereas younger students used discrete words to form sentences in a way that resembled other languages. “Their first pantomine-like gestures evolved into a grammar of increasing complexity as new children learned the signs and elaborated. Now it has a formal name: Nicaraguan Sign Language, and is so distinct that it would not be understood by American and British signers.”"

Steven Pinker's take: "It shows that children have sophisticated mechanisms of language analysis which give language many of its distinctive qualities."

I thought this Pinker quote to be very interesting, in that he doesn't use the opportunity to point to innate language, but rather something similar to what Lera articulated earlier this quarter, that of "innate learning modules" or something to that effect, which are powerful, innate tools of analysis that children use to analyze the world around them and which are particularly adept at statistical analysis of language that teaches children how to follow linguistic rules, which sort of refutes the poverty of the stimulus hypothesis.

Homesign, Chomsky, and Nicaragua again

Signs Support Chomsky

Marie Coppola and Elissa Newport of the University of Rochester have also jumped on the bandwagon of studying ISN (or did two years ago in 2005 when this paper came out.) The title basically says it all. They did a study on a rather small sample population, three people, who were never exposed to a real, formal sign language. They were home-signers, that is, they developed a system for use around the home with their parents and families, but were never able to learn a full language in the way that most people are. The study used little video clips of people either as "the subject" or "the topic" of an action verb, and then tested whether the people could identify the grammatical concept of a "subject." Apparently the test subjects knew to put the subject of the sentence at the beginning, as opposed to the "topic" of the sentence in a different position. This, the authors postulate, supports a Chomskian view of an innate grammar.

I don't know if Chomsky's theory of universal grammar mandates that subjects must go at the beginning of sentences, but if it does this evidence could be construed to support his theory. It does seem to make intuitive sense to me, a native English speaker, that subjects preceding verbs would be a linguistic universal. However, if one is going to take issue with the experiment, she will either seek to undermine the evidence, or refute the conclusions, and I could see how both could be done in this case. If you're a deaf person born to hearing parents who never learned and never will learn real sign language, one can imagine that your parents will develop their own signs, and those signs will probably mimic the speech patterns the parents already use, which in this case would probably be Spanish which does indeed put the subjects at the beginning of sentences, when a subject is included at all. A complexity that arises, however, is when there isn't a subject in a Spanish sentence, that is, when the subject pronoun (he, I, they, you, etc.) is implied by the ending of the verb. I don't know if Spanish-speaking parents would attempt to sign declarative, explicit subject-free sentences with a sign for the pronoun before or after the verb. Since Spanish marks the subject at the end of the verb, it seems certainly plausible that an "illiterate" Spanish signer would try to imply the subject of the sentence after the verb, because that's how it appears in regular syntax. Any native Spanish speakers are welcome to contribute as to whether they think of the subject in these instances as before or after the verb. As one who learned Spanish as a second language, I applied the English framework to Spanish sentences when I learned them, and for me, while I may not know the person and number of the pronoun until after the end of the verb, I think I "picture" the sentence in my head in a (subject) doing (verb) construction.

So, if the homesign systems used by these three individuals is and was indeed marked by (sign for verb) then (sign for subject), and these participants in the study correctly intuited from the experiment some sort of distinction about subjects being at the beginning of phrases, I probably would conclude, as did the authors of this paper, that these three cases do indeed support a Chomskian view of an innate, universal syntax. However, there are definitely some problems with this experiment. In addition to the ones already noted, these people were adults and thus have been exposed to language throughout their lives. While they may not have been able to hear it, they've had homesign systems which are certainly more than nothing; they've interacted with other people in their community who probably structure their gestures in a different way; they've probably seen picture books and have encountered sentences and words in print to some degree of comprehension.

In sum, I've yet to encounter strong evidence in direct contradiction to Chomsky (though possibly the Piraha language does refute certain tenets of the theory, but I'd need to learn more about both before I could make conclusions), and the scientific articles I've yet encountered with regards to sign language and especially ISN all draw conclusions that support Chomsky. This could be simply because Chomsky is arguably the prevailing psycholinguist of the time and it's scientifically unfashionable and risky to contradict him, or it could be because he makes some strong, supportable claims. If there are some scientific articles that any reader is aware of that refute Chomsky and disagree with him outright, I would love to read them and would appreciate if you would post them in the comment section.

Theory of Mind and Deaf Signers

Theory of Mind and Deaf Signers
Log into the Stanford system, then you can follow the link:
http://web.ebscohost.com/ehost/pdf?vid=4&hid=8&sid=bea825b0-2349-4c92-afbd-6a9cf5226de8%40SRCSM1

This paper is a scientific look at the Nicaraguan Sign Language phenomena, which is, of course, the one we've referenced a few times in class. It looks at the development and abilities of children and adults who were exposed to formal sign language at different ages and how they score on various tests. One of them is the theory of mind test, which aims to determine how well an individual understands the difference between their own mind and the minds of others. In young children for example, they sometimes don't have very marked theory of mind abilities, thinking that what's in their heads is the same as what's in mommy and daddy's head as well. As might be expected, native or early-exposure signers do better with these sorts of things than signers who were exposed to sign language later in life. (For an example of one test in theory of mind, look here).

As the article asks, "By what process do deaf children build a ToM [Theory of Mind] in the absence of formal language exposure? What ToM abilities are robust enough to develop in situations of late language exposure?" These questions seem very interesting, and fairly central and applicable to our class. I'm not sure exactly, but there seem to be a couple ways that children can build ToM. If they are raised in a typical environment with language, they probably build ToM by learning through verbal interaction with their parents and siblings that what exists in their mind is not the same as what exists in others' minds. Verbs like "think, dream, imagine, wonder" are indicators of theory of mind, and when children begin to use these, I suspect that their scores on ToM tests would also go up. For children not raised in a normally lingual environment have to figure out ToM through introspection to their own thoughts, and observations about the world around them (visual ones, since most of these "language-less" children are deaf children raised without formal sign language.) However, one can imagine how difficult this would be, especially since sometimes people behave one way but are actually thinking something different. In a world without explanations and language, a child might not always realize through facial expression alone, for example, that somebody is doing something unwillingly.

There's also the question of whether or not ToM tests are sensitive enough to the range of expression in late-sign-learners, because as one might imagine, individual people and families have come up with a huge variety of expressive gestures and signs. From the article I learned that some use facial expression to indicate something like "confusion" in another person by expressing a confused look on the face. Can ToM tests be sensitive to expressions like this which may indeed indicate underlying ToM ability that's not explicitly shown in what formal sign language these people do know. Alternatively, there might be certain conditioned responses such as laughing when somebody falls over that are just conditioned responses to a stimulus without a real underlying mental understanding of other people's mental states. As the article notes, "Gesture and facial expression could equally sometimes be over-interpreted."

A small aside which I may explore further later (by reading the original study): "They
came to this situation at different ages spanning
development before, during and after those maturational
points at which the critical period for language
acquisition is said to be in effect (exposure before
6 years for native abilities and not later than
10 years for near native abilities – e.g., Newport,
Bavelier, & Neville, 2001; Senghas & Coppola, 2001)." This would be an example that Lera has countered in class, showing a steady decline in language acquisition abilities with age rather than sharply defined windows around particular ages.
The article goes on to assert that it may be true that there are "critical periods" (more on that later) for acquisition of ToM ability.

The Branches of Language Innateness Theories

My purpose in this next set of blog posts will be to do some preliminary research paper probing. While starting to write on a topic without yet having a thesis or solidified stance is a little awkward, I’m hoping that these explorations into language innateness theories will give me a well-read background into the topic of my paper, while giving the reader a chance to set me straight if I’ve come to a preliminary faulty conclusion, and a chance for education about the vast theories of language innateness beyond Lera, Pinker, and Chomsky.

I’ve chosen to examine language innateness because it’s the subject area of class that seems to be the least settled and most controversial. I could, of course, be entirely wrong in that assertion, but for me personally, I don’t have a problem accepting that language affects thought, thought affects language, thoughts are made in language at least sometimes, language shapes abilities (perfect pitch and Mandarin). After considering split-brain patients, patients with hemispherectomies, patients with massive stroke damage, and their ensuing recoveries in language-related areas, I’m also convinced of the amazing plasticity of the human brain, and willing to accept the notion that language does not have to be localized to any specific structures in the brain, that the “seat” of language (if something that specific could ever be pinned down) is more of a mobile wheelchair than a permanent throne. I hope to cover Chomsky, Pinker, Boroditsky, Jerry Fodor, Michael Tomasello, possibly Elizabeth Bates and Catherine Snow as well.

Noam Chomsky

While very active politically and in other cognitive disciplines, Chomsky essentially is the first foundational thinker on language in the twentieth century, at least beyond B.F. Skinner. Chomsky's language theories began as anti-Skinnerian, that is, anti-radical behaviorism. Behaviorism, as applied to language, argues that everything is a behavior, and that behaviors can be described and analyzed scientifically without reference to internal physiological events or undefined, questionable constructs such as the mind. Skinner, inventor of the famous Skinner box (or operant conditioning chamber) used to study operant or classical conditioning, took behaviorism further, into radical behaviorism. Radical behaviorism had the advantage that it could accept unobservable, private events like thought.
Instead of just a behavior as Skinner proposed in his book Verbal Behavior, Chomsky proposes that language has certain innate characteristics, particularly his famous universal grammar that allows children to generalize the grammatical rules of their language to an extent far greater than is possible through what they are exposed to alone. His universal grammar seems to suggest that a great deal of language is innate and there only need be a few switches thrown during the course of development before fully-fledged language emerges, such as whether you need an explicit subject as in English, or if the subject is sometimes optional, as in Spanish. This, as I understand, is essentially his "Principles and Parameters" approach. Recently (1995) Chomsky has revised some of his former theories in the Minimalist Program, keeping the central concepts of generative grammar, but emphasizing instead the economy of the design of language learning.
Further analysis of Chomsky's theories would require a look at evidence and counter-evidence for his theories. Perhaps in my final paper, I might examine the case studies of the Nicaraguan sign language phenomena by Judy Kegl, or alternatively, the Piraha people of Brazil who were studied by Daniel Everett and apparently are a counter-example to universal grammar. I hope to go deeper into Chomsky's theories, and explore those of the other aformentioned language theorists as well.

My New Language, all you need is a symphonic voice

Musicophilia: Tales of Music and the Brain by Oliver Sacks

Music as a language. This article relates some anecdotes of "Here are tales of a man possessed with an insatiable desire to hear piano music after being struck by lightning, of another whose epileptic seizure created permanent music “playing” inside his head, of an eminent musicologist (the English conductor Clive Wearing) whose musical powers were unimpaired even though amnesia blotted out everything else, and of a severely retarded man able to recall hundreds of operas and play Debussy from ear after hearing it once." This got me thinking about the origins of music, and how they might be related to language. From these stories, it seems it is something that our mind spends quite a bit of resources on. Evolutionarily, music as we know it seems to be a rather recent invention, a by-product of human intellect. How did it get there? Why? As the article asks why "meaningless vibrations have such an effect on our mental state."

My roomate and I often compare elaborate pieces of classical music to novels: they both lend themselves to analysis in similar ways. For example, the overall tone of a book or a piece of music can be described as hopeful, gloomy, excited. Both can be complex, simple, elaborate, or eloquent in their overall perception by the reader/listener. There are motifs that are revisited. In language, certain phrases have what is described as a "lyrical" quality. Poetry lends itself to a certain rhythm. Certain languages in particular have elaborate use of different tonalities in pronunciation to differentiate words, as in Mandarin. In music, different instruments or instrument sections are often played off one another as if they were characters in a narrative: they echo one another, they contrast one another, and sometimes they all work together in harmony.

Because of all these similarities, I suspect that the evolutionary "fluke" of music is directly related to language. Music, I think, could also potentially be used as its own language. The reason it probably has not been used as such yet is because any human who has functioning ears and voice finds those to be a more convenient mode of expression than finding a piano or whipping out a flute every time he or she wants to express something to another person. However, consider how musical our language could be if we had vocal chords that could produce all the tones, dynamics, and timbres of a symphony simultaneously, as a symphony could. Tongues would clearly be unnecessary, and this hypothetical language would instead sound like compositions of music rather than the mechanical clicks, hisses, and bursts of words as we know them.

Dynamics would largely be the same, with higher volume used for emphasis, in times of great emotion, or when communicating over a large area. Tonal shifts would, of course, be far more elaborate than in any language currently spoken. The speed at which one note shifts to another, the type of shift (a gradual slide like a trombone, or a pure interval like a piano), and the tonal interval (a first, a third, an octave) could all be different communicative devices. The real power of a language like this (which is essentially present in great orchestral compositions) is the simultaneity of communication possible. That is, with dozens or hundreds of musicians, playing scores of different instruments, there are simultaneous levels to every instant of a piece of music. Some sections are silent, this means something. Some are voiced, this means something else. Some are excited and carry the melody; some voice occasional bass notes which ground the melody; some pulse the tempo; some simply add a flourish here and there. Every instrument can be used for a variety of purposes, and favoring one over the other in different circumstances would be analogous to the level of formality that we use in speech. In more formal situations, it would be proper to follow the expected norms (have the violins carry the tune, the basses throb the underlying foundation), but in more informal situations one could experiment with new combinations; people could find more efficient ways of expressing things, and thus a musical shift would emerge just as lingual shifts (new words are born, old words die) happen in our spoken language.

Music and language share so many aspects, I'm fairly sure we would not have music were it not for our lingual abilities. If there be scientific work in this area, I'd love to hear about it.

Animal Language? New Encounters; War.

Australian Scientists Say Humpback Whales Have Their Own Language

So it seems chimpanzees aren't the only ones... But upon further investigation it looks like the chimps win in the language competition. "The scientists identified at least 34 distinctive sounds made by these remarkable ocean creatures" the article states. 34 distinctive sounds is far fewer than the 200+ communicative actions that Washoe could make. While it may be exciting to think of whales and their gargantuan brains as these incredible philosophers of the deep, the evidence is still too thin to make that conclusion.

Sometimes, you need universal language made for a fairly comical read. It talks of oil companies who are penetrating South American rain forests, reaching villages that have been mostly undisturbed. While it may be a rude awakening to the Westernized world for these villages, the oil companies use megaphones and a phrase book to make certain things clear such as "We haven't come here to look for women. We have women in our own village."

This also makes me wonder about these tribes or villages and what they are thinking of heavy machines crashing through the forest. These Peruvian tribes, which are described as "people living in isolated Amazonian forests" are presumably fairly primitive with regards to industrialization, and they may have not even seen motorized vehicles before. When exposing new people to new things, these oil companies are the introducers and they thus have the power to shape the language of the tribes they encounter. If this tribe has never seen something like a car or truck before, they might make up some word that is a combination of existing words in their language ("rolling box" or something), or the bringers of these novel objects will introduce new vocabulary for their new objects. I bet these oil-seekers never expected to have the power to shape a tribe's language for all time.

So how good of a window IS language into human nature? Language as Human Insight: Our Many Words for Fighting When a language has such a plethora of synonyms for one aspect, one word, one idea, it seems to show that that language, those speakers, value or care about that idea very much. This article emphasizes the wide range of words we have for fighting. Is fighting inherent in human nature; is it really that central and important? Over the course of our evolutionary history, it seems that there would be an advantage to those who would (if they could) kill off all their neighbors and take their resources rather than work together for a common cause. As time has proceeded, the groups banding together for common protection of each other and common attack on others have grown larger. No longer is it a Feudal unit of peasants and lord, but it's an entire country that's invading other countries for their resources. We've learned it's not always necessary to kill everybody, but we really haven't come that far.