English

What is the future of English? Here are a few statements that I’ve recently read, heard or overheard. “If you don’t speak English, you can’t feel part of the world.” “English isn’t much more than an ugly symbol of white supremacy.” “All this unchecked immigration is turning a once-beautiful language into some sort of mongrel.” “English is popular because it’s so accommodating.” “True English keeps getting diluted.” “In the future, we are all going to speak just one language, and it’s our one.”

As such anecdotal evidence suggests, statements about language are typically freighted with political judgments. People characteristically identify their own language as precious – an embodiment of their heritage, a measure of their prosperity. They see other languages as rivals or dangerous intruders. And native users of English are particularly proud in their awareness that the language of Shakespeare, Adam Smith and The Simpsons is becoming the world’s sovereign tongue.

Yet popular thinking about the language tends to be myopic. Books, articles and news items on the subject usually take one of three forms. First, there is the lament, which bemoans, for example, the decline of the semi-colon or the proliferation of split infinitives and so-called greengrocers’ apostrophes. The most celebrated recent example is Lynne Truss’s Eats, Shoots and Leaves. Then there is the archaeological approach, in which the history of the language is quarried. Contributions to this field are sometimes historical (Melvyn Bragg’s The Adventure of English) or more concerned with philology (Nicholas Ostler’s brilliant Empires of the Word). Third, and with more than a nod to this archaeological school, there is the curatorial method, in which linguistic oddities are individually displayed like museum pieces. Did you know that “kit” once denoted a wooden vessel used for carrying fish, or that “clone” comes from the Greek word for a twig? There have been numerous recent books in this vein, and the form also thrives on the internet.

David Crystal’s readable The Fight for English belongs in the first bracket and focuses on changes in the language. However, Crystal, a distinguished scholar with a populist touch, is the opposite of the narrow “purist” who bridles at the sight of a recently adopted word. As he bluntly puts it, “We know of no ‘pure’ language.” The world of languages is a melting pot, he says, not a salad bowl. He points out that the guardians of “proper” usage invariably fail, although pedants are useful “in alerting us to the ways in which difficulties can be caused by language change”.

Crystal has a record of contributing to the archaeology of the language, too. His 2005 work The Stories of English offers a cogent account of its development – and that plural “stories” in the title indicates the author’s interest in the language’s non-standard forms. Rather than being monolithic, English exists in many varieties. There is a clear difference between the argot of hip-hop and the professional terminology of a lawyer; the difference is just as clear between the forms of the language spoken in Manchester, Mumbai, Melbourne and Manila. The point is made afresh in The Fight for English: no one owns English any more. But this doesn’t stop native speakers clinging on to the illusion that the destiny of the language is theirs alone to shape.

Variety is also a theme of Sol Steinmetz’s jauntily informative Semantic Antics, which celebrates the mutability of English. Steinmetz observes that if every word had just one meaning “we would become paralysed by verbal gridlock”. Meanings are layered – words are archives. The somewhat silly title notwithstanding, Steinmetz illustrates this with a thoughtful and accurate take on the curatorial mode. He has an impressive track record as an author of reference books, and his cabinet of curiosities is illuminated by intelligent scholarship.

Readers are treated to close examinations of a couple of hundred words, in which Steinmetz shows how their meanings have changed over time and, where possible, proposes a social or cultural explanation for these changes. This throws up some real oddities. For instance, “ludicrous” was once a term of approval, connoting sportive playfulness. When Dr Johnson said “The Rape of the Lock” was “the most attractive of all ludicrous compositions”, he did not mean to denigrate Alexander Pope’s poem. But a later generation of commentators, keen to reverse their predecessors’ tastes, turned the word into a virtual synonym for “ridiculous”. Hence Shelley’s line “How ludicrous the priest’s dogmatic roar”.

Steinmetz’s book is a salutary demonstration of why we need to check the facts before bickering over what words “really” mean. But while Steinmetz is intriguing, and Crystal judicious, both consider familiar concerns. David Graddol’s English Next, on the other hand, is something completely different. It is not, in fact, a book in the conventional sense, since it is available only as a downloadable PDF file. I think it’s one of the most important discussions of English in the last 20 years, yet I suspect very few people are aware of it. One reason may be that it is published by the British Council, the educational corporation set up in 1934 to “build mutually beneficial cultural and educational relationships between the United Kingdom and other countries, and increase appreciation of the United Kingdom’s creative ideas and achievements”. Given this, you might think English Next would be an exercise in flag-waving. It is nothing of the sort.

Graddol’s study explores recent trends in the use of English, in order to develop a sense of how the language may change over the next two generations. Its main contention is that, contrary to popular belief, the current global position of English is far from unassailable. In a foreword, Neil Kinnock, chairman of the British Council, highlights the study’s conclusion that British graduates who speak no language besides English “face a bleak economic future”.

Initially this sounds improbable. English is the native language of about 400m people and is spoken, with some degree of fluency, by perhaps another 600m. The number actively engaged in learning it is rapidly heading towards 2bn. And though there are more people on the planet who speak no English than there will be fluent speakers, the vitality of the language seems obvious.

There are certain inescapable facts about the global role of English. It dominates diplomacy, trade and shipping, as well as the entertainment industry and youth culture. It is the lingua franca of computing and technology, of science and medicine, and it is prominent in international business and academia. It is the working language of the United Nations. And, perhaps a little less glamorously, it is the official language of air safety instructions and air traffic control.

At first glance, this might seem to be an excellent thing for native English speakers – and sceptics certainly argue that it’s bad for those who don’t know the language. We are used to hearing about globalisation and the Americanisation (and therefore the Englishing) of popular culture. Opponents of these forces perceive the spread of English as linguistic imperialism; it erodes traditions and cultural identities. Those who fear this spread connect it with Christianity, colonialism and America’s political and military interventionism.

But is this right? On the one hand, the diffusion of English may be associated with literacy, democracy, modernity and job opportunities. On the other, the fact that native speakers are already outnumbered – and will in the near future be “significantly” outnumbered – raises some unexpected concerns. On a practical level, we can see that English is influenced by immigration, changing attitudes to education, new technology and aspects of modern business such as outsourcing. Much of this happens in ways that native speakers cannot control.

As English increasingly becomes the language of business, native speakers feel, quite understandably, that they are at an advantage. But discussion often goes more smoothly when the native speakers leave the room – proceedings are not muddied by idioms and intuitive, unthinking use of slang. Conversation among non-native speakers may be more direct and pragmatic – correct, probably, yet stripped down and functional. The people who see themselves as facilitators are, in reality, obstacles.

This is increasingly evident to non-native speakers, and it is having an impact on the teaching of English as a foreign language. Indeed, the very notion of English as “foreign” is obsolescent. English is increasingly considered part of a necessary basic education. In countries as different as South Korea, Estonia and Chile, bilingualism is a national goal. Yet, Graddol notes, for new learners of English, “intelligibility is of primary importance, rather than native-like accuracy”. Niceties of native pronunciation – features that are established but have no actual bearing on comprehension, such as the correct articulation of a “th” sound – can in this context seem unimportant. The sites of education are changing as well: the home computer or the shopping mall may be as important as what happens in the classroom. Graddol goes further: “The learning of English appears to be losing its separate identity as a discipline and merging with general education.”

Many of the growing numbers actively engaged in learning English are not being taught by native speakers. For instance, as Graddol notes, in the 1990s China employed Belgians to teach English because the Belgians were more sensitive to the difficulties of bilingual education. This kind of practice is creating a new international standard of English, in which native speakers play only a minor role.

A related consideration is this: native English speakers tend to be complacent about learning foreign languages, because there is a common perception that proficiency in English is “sufficient”. Other people will make the effort to learn English – so do we really need to reciprocate? But the more widespread the ability to speak English becomes, the less distinctive a skill it will be. If speaking English becomes a basic requirement for doing business, advantage will accrue to those who can speak other languages as well – the monoglot Briton or American will seem comparatively unskilled.

English Next is a call to action. Learning other languages is essential. But instead of the traditional lessons in French and German, native speakers of English should be learning Arabic or Mandarin – or indeed Portuguese, Russian or Spanish. Furthermore, English’s centre of gravity has moved. The language’s future seems likely to be shaped not so much in Britain or America as in China and India by a burgeoning middle class of urban workers.

Language is always on the move. In The Fight for English David Crystal says, “Change can’t be stopped, but it does need to be managed.” This involves rethinking educational policy – not least to promote the idea that the most desirable form of speech is not always a slickly native one. For now the biggest challenge to the language’s hegemony comes not from foreign languages but from English itself.

Henry Hitchings is author of ‘The Secret Life of Words: How English Became English’ (John Murray)