| "As far as grammar learning goes, the child must be a naturalist, passively observing the speech of others, rather than an experimentalist, manipulating stimuli and recording the results. The implications are profound. Languages are infinite, childhoods finite." |
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Fascinating. Pinker's rhetoric is masterly. Let us savour it as it deserves to be savoured.
First, 'the child'. I don't know how many thousands of millions of children there are in the world, of however many races and cultures and creeds; but apparently they can all now be included in 'the child'. (Well, that makes things easier, anyway. Only one pair of ears to box.)
Then, we have 'must'. This billion-fold child 'must' be something. We don't know why he 'must' be something. He just 'must'. (And quite right too. We don't want any of that liberal, schoolteacherly, 'free creative spirit' guff here.)
Then we have two metaphors: on the one hand, the child is a 'naturalist'; on the other, he isn't an 'experimentalist'.
What do we mean by a 'naturalist', I wonder? Darwin? Linnaeus? Gilbert White? Not that it matters. Presumably all the millions of 'naturalists' in the world are exactly the same, like our billion-fold 'child'. And so what does this composite 'naturalist' do? He 'passively observes'. (As opposed to 'actively observes', presumably.) Sums it up pretty neatly, in my opinion. Sucks to you, Mr Darwin. And you too, Mr White.
Ditto for 'experimentalist',
mutatis mutandis. (And what a keen-eyed picture of an 'experimentalist' that is. Pin-sharp as the picture on the cover of a 'Jekyll and Hyde'. Look at those coloured bottles with steam coming out. How do they
do that??)
Now we get to the 'implications'.
And what would those be, Steven?
'Profound, of course...'
And would that be because they're
your implications, Steven?
'Naturally...'
I suppose you couldn't be a little more specific?
'They're all there in my references. Look them up yourself if you don't believe me. But you're wasting your time. They're profound. That's all you need to know.'
Okay, okay...
Well, maybe we all ought to pause for a moment in wonderment at this point and feel profound in unison.
{Nice perm, Steven.}
OK. That's done. Now what do we have?
An apophthegm, no less. So would that be Nietzsche? Schopenhauer? Marcus Aurelius?
It's damn good, whoever it is. In fact, it's so good, we're going to have to take it in two stages. OK...hold your breath:
1. 'Languages are infinite.'
Whoa. 'Infinite.' That's almost as impressive a word as 'profound'. And what would that mean, by the way, Steven? 'Oh well, you know...Kind of, there's a lot to them, really, languages...You can say a lot with a language, you know.'
Well, I'm impressed. Let's take a look at part 2:
2. '...childhoods finite.'
Hmm. I think that must be impressive too, if only because it's antithetical.
'Antithetical?'
Yes, you know: 'infinite' is the antithesis of 'finite', and 'languages' is the antithesis of –
'Yes?'
Well, childhoods, I suppose.
'I see. And what does it mean?'
Well, I suppose it means childhoods are finite, so to speak.
'In other words, kids grow up?'
Well, yes, that would be it.
'So Mr Pinker means: 'You can say quite a lot of things, with a language, really; but kids grow up.'
Yes, I suppose that would be another way of putting it.
'I have rarely heard such – a profound statement.'
I have to say, I love this stuff, JT. 'Language scientists' – mm mm. Takes me back to when we used to study 'Janet and John', in kindergarten. Any more where that came from?
MrP