Parlaré amb vosaltres fent servir el llenguatge... perquè puc. Aquesta és una de les màgiques habilitats que tenim els humans. Podem transmetre pensaments complexos als altres. Ara estic creant sons amb la boca al exhalar. Emeto tons, xiulets i bufs, que creen vibracions en l'aire. Aquestes vibracions en l'aire viatgen fins a tu, colpegen el teu timpà i llavors el cervell recull aquestes vibracions del timpà i les transforma en pensaments. Espero.
So, I'll be speaking to you using language ... because I can. This is one these magical abilities that we humans have. We can transmit really complicated thoughts to one another. So what I'm doing right now is, I'm making sounds with my mouth as I'm exhaling. I'm making tones and hisses and puffs, and those are creating air vibrations in the air. Those air vibrations are traveling to you, they're hitting your eardrums, and then your brain takes those vibrations from your eardrums and transforms them into thoughts. I hope.
(Rialles)
(Laughter)
Espero que sigui així. Degut a aquesta habilitat, som capaços de transmetre les nostres idees a través de la vastitud de l'espai i el temps. Som capaços de transmetre coneixement entre ments. Puc fer-vos pensar ara mateix en una idea estrambòtica i nova. Puc dir, "Imagineu una medusa ballant un vals en una biblioteca mentre pensa en mecànica quàntica".
I hope that's happening. So because of this ability, we humans are able to transmit our ideas across vast reaches of space and time. We're able to transmit knowledge across minds. I can put a bizarre new idea in your mind right now. I could say, "Imagine a jellyfish waltzing in a library while thinking about quantum mechanics."
(Rialles)
(Laughter)
Si tot ha anat prou bé a la vostra vida, probablement no hi havíeu pensat mai.
Now, if everything has gone relatively well in your life so far, you probably haven't had that thought before.
(Rialles)
(Laughter)
Però ara us hi he fet pensar, a travès del llenguatge.
But now I've just made you think it, through language.
Certament no hi ha només un idioma al món, se'n parlen uns 7000. I es diferencien l'un de l'altre de mil i una maneres. Alguns idiomes tenen sons diferents, vocabularis diferents, i també estructures diferents; molt important, estructures diferents. Això ens du a la qüestió: Dona forma l'idioma que parlem a la manera com pensem? Aquesta pregunta ve de lluny. Hi hem estat especulant des de sempre. Carlemany, emperador de l'Imperi Romà, va dir: "Tenir una segona llengua és tenir una segona ànima" contundent declaració de com modela la realitat. D'altra banda, Shakespeare fa dir a Julieta "Què val un nom? Amb un altre nom, la rosa faria la mateixa dolça olor" Bé, això suggereix que potser l'idioma no modela la realitat.
Now of course, there isn't just one language in the world, there are about 7,000 languages spoken around the world. And all the languages differ from one another in all kinds of ways. Some languages have different sounds, they have different vocabularies, and they also have different structures -- very importantly, different structures. That begs the question: Does the language we speak shape the way we think? Now, this is an ancient question. People have been speculating about this question forever. Charlemagne, Holy Roman emperor, said, "To have a second language is to have a second soul" -- strong statement that language crafts reality. But on the other hand, Shakespeare has Juliet say, "What's in a name? A rose by any other name would smell as sweet." Well, that suggests that maybe language doesn't craft reality.
Aquests arguments s'han discutit des de fa milers d'anys. Però fins fa poc, no hi havia prou informació per emetre cap judici. Al meu laboratori i en d'altres al voltant del món, hem començat a fer recerca, i ara tenim evidència científica per inclinar-nos en aquesta qüestió.
These arguments have gone back and forth for thousands of years. But until recently, there hasn't been any data to help us decide either way. Recently, in my lab and other labs around the world, we've started doing research, and now we have actual scientific data to weigh in on this question.
Deixin-me que els presenti alguns dels meus exemples preferits. Començaré amb el d'una comunitat aborigen d'Austràlia amb la qual vaig tenir l'ocasió de treballar. Són la gent que parla Kuuk Thaayorre. Viuen a Pormpuraaw al cantó més occidental de Cape York. El que és interessant del Kuuk Thaayorre és que no tenen "dreta" ni "esquerra", tot s'expressa fent servir els punts cardinals: nord, sud, est i oest. I quan dic tot, vull dir literalment tot. Diries: "Tens una formiga a la cama sud-oest" O, "Mou una mica la tassa cap a nord nord-est" De fet, la manera de dir "hola" és "Cap a on vas?" I la resposta seria, "Nord nord-est lluny enllà. I tu?"
So let me tell you about some of my favorite examples. I'll start with an example from an Aboriginal community in Australia that I had the chance to work with. These are the Kuuk Thaayorre people. They live in Pormpuraaw at the very west edge of Cape York. What's cool about Kuuk Thaayorre is, in Kuuk Thaayorre, they don't use words like "left" and "right," and instead, everything is in cardinal directions: north, south, east and west. And when I say everything, I really mean everything. You would say something like, "Oh, there's an ant on your southwest leg." Or, "Move your cup to the north-northeast a little bit." In fact, the way that you say "hello" in Kuuk Thaayorre is you say, "Which way are you going?" And the answer should be, "North-northeast in the far distance. How about you?"
Imagina que quan vas caminant a cada persona que saludes, li has de dir cap a quina direcció vas.
So imagine as you're walking around your day, every person you greet, you have to report your heading direction.
(Rialles)
(Laughter)
Això faria que estiguessis orientat ben ràpid, oi? Perquè literalment no podries dir ni "hola" si no saps on vas. De fet, la gent que parla idiomes com aquest s'orienta molt bé. Millor del que pensàvem que era possible en humans Solíem pensar que els humans èrem pitjors que altres éssers per alguna excusa biològica: "Oh, no tenim imans als becs o a les escates." No; si la teva llengua i cultura t'entrenen per fer-ho realment pots fer-ho. Hi ha persones al món que s'orienten molt bé.
But that would actually get you oriented pretty fast, right? Because you literally couldn't get past "hello," if you didn't know which way you were going. In fact, people who speak languages like this stay oriented really well. They stay oriented better than we used to think humans could. We used to think that humans were worse than other creatures because of some biological excuse: "Oh, we don't have magnets in our beaks or in our scales." No; if your language and your culture trains you to do it, actually, you can do it. There are humans around the world who stay oriented really well.
I només per posar-nos d'acord en com és de diferent de la manera com ho fem, vull que tothom tanqui els ulls un moment i senyali el sud-est.
And just to get us in agreement about how different this is from the way we do it, I want you all to close your eyes for a second and point southeast.
(Rialles)
(Laughter)
Manteniu-los tancats. Senyaleu. Ja els podeu obrir. Us veig senyalant cap allà, allà, allà, allà, allà... Ni jo sé cap on queda.
Keep your eyes closed. Point. OK, so you can open your eyes. I see you guys pointing there, there, there, there, there ... I don't know which way it is myself --
(Rialles)
(Laughter)
I no heu sigut de gaire ajuda.
You have not been a lot of help.
(Rialles)
(Laughter)
Diguem que aquí la precisió no és gaire alta. Hi ha una gran diferència d'habilitat cognitiva entre idiomes. En un grup —un de tan eminent com vosaltres— no sabeu la direcció, però en un altre grup, podria preguntar a un nen de 5 anys i ho sabria.
So let's just say the accuracy in this room was not very high. This is a big difference in cognitive ability across languages, right? Where one group -- very distinguished group like you guys -- doesn't know which way is which, but in another group, I could ask a five-year-old and they would know.
(Rialles)
(Laughter)
També hi ha diferències enormes en com la gent pensa en el temps. Aquí tinc fotografies del meu avi a diferents edats. Si demano a un angloparlant que les ordeni cronològicament, ho farà d'esquerra a dreta. Això té a veure amb la direcció d'escriptura. Si fossis parlant d'hebreu o àrab, ho faries en la direcció oposada, de dreta a esquerra.
There are also really big differences in how people think about time. So here I have pictures of my grandfather at different ages. And if I ask an English speaker to organize time, they might lay it out this way, from left to right. This has to do with writing direction. If you were a speaker of Hebrew or Arabic, you might do it going in the opposite direction, from right to left.
Però i els Kuuk Thaayorre, els aborígens que us deia, com ho farien? Ells no fan servir paraules com "esquerra" o "dreta". Deixeu que us doni una pista. Quan els asseiem cap al sud, ordenen el temps d'esquerra a dreta Quan els asseiem cap al nord, ordenen el temps de dreta a esquerra. Quan els asseiem cap a l'est, el temps vé cap al cos. Quin és el patró? De l'est a l'oest, oi? Així que, per a ells, el temps no està en absolut vinculat al cos, sinó a l'espai. Per mi, si em poso així, el temps va cap aquí, però si em poso així, llavors el temps va cap aquí. Si em poso així, el temps va cap aquí. Molt egocèntric per part meva que la direcció del temps em segueixi cada cop que em giro. Pels Kuuk Thaayorre, el temps està vinculat a l'espai. És una manera molt diferent de concebre'l.
But how would the Kuuk Thaayorre, this Aboriginal group I just told you about, do it? They don't use words like "left" and "right." Let me give you hint. When we sat people facing south, they organized time from left to right. When we sat them facing north, they organized time from right to left. When we sat them facing east, time came towards the body. What's the pattern? East to west, right? So for them, time doesn't actually get locked on the body at all, it gets locked on the landscape. So for me, if I'm facing this way, then time goes this way, and if I'm facing this way, then time goes this way. I'm facing this way, time goes this way -- very egocentric of me to have the direction of time chase me around every time I turn my body. For the Kuuk Thaayorre, time is locked on the landscape. It's a dramatically different way of thinking about time.
Aquí tenim un altre truc enginyós. Suposem que et pregunto quants pinguins hi ha. Apostaria que sé com resoldries aquest problema. Començaries "Un, dos, tres, quatre, cinc, sis, set, vuit." Els has contat anomenant-los un per un amb un número, i l'últim número que has dit era el número de pingüins. Un petit truc que ens han ensenyat des de petits. Aprenem la llista de números i a aplicar-la. Un petit truc lingüístic. Doncs bé, alguns idiomes no ho fan, perquè en alguns idiomes no hi ha paraules pels números exactes. No tenen una paraula com "set" o una paraula com "vuit". De fet, els que parlen aquests idiomes no conten, i tenen problemes per fer servir quantitats exactes. Així, per exemple, si et demano que relacionis aquest nombre de pingüins amb el mateix nombre d'ànecs, series capaç de fer-ho contant. Però la gent que no té aquest truc lingüistic no poden fer-ho.
Here's another really smart human trick. Suppose I ask you how many penguins are there. Well, I bet I know how you'd solve that problem if you solved it. You went, "One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight." You counted them. You named each one with a number, and the last number you said was the number of penguins. This is a little trick that you're taught to use as kids. You learn the number list and you learn how to apply it. A little linguistic trick. Well, some languages don't do this, because some languages don't have exact number words. They're languages that don't have a word like "seven" or a word like "eight." In fact, people who speak these languages don't count, and they have trouble keeping track of exact quantities. So, for example, if I ask you to match this number of penguins to the same number of ducks, you would be able to do that by counting. But folks who don't have that linguistic trick can't do that.
Els idiomes també difereixen en com dividir l'espectre de colors, el mòn visual. Alguns idiomes tenen molts colors, d'altres un parell de paraules, "clar" i "fosc" I els idiomes també difereixen en on posar fronteres entre colors. Així, per exemple, en anglès, hi ha una paraula per a blau que cobreix tots els colors que es poden veure projectats, però en rus, no hi ha una sola paraula. En comptes, els russoparlants diferencien entre blau clar, "goluboy", i blau fosc, "siniy". Així els russos tenen l'experiència de tota una vida per, lingüísticament distingir aquests dos colors. Quan posem a prova les habilitats per discriminar entre colors resulta que els russoparlants són més ràpids a travessar aquest llindar lingüístic. Són més ràpids en diferenciar entre blau clar i blau fosc. I quan mirem el cervell dels que estan observant colors — posem per cas un blau clar que s'enfosqueix lentament — al cervell dels que fan servir diferents paraules per blau clar i blau fosc hi haurà una reacció de sorpresa quan el color passa de clar a fosc, com "Oo, alguna cosa ha canviat de categoria" mentre que al cervell d'un angloparlant, per exemple, que no fa aquesta distinció, no hi ha la mateixa sorpresa, perquè res està canviant de categoria.
Languages also differ in how they divide up the color spectrum -- the visual world. Some languages have lots of words for colors, some have only a couple words, "light" and "dark." And languages differ in where they put boundaries between colors. So, for example, in English, there's a word for blue that covers all of the colors that you can see on the screen, but in Russian, there isn't a single word. Instead, Russian speakers have to differentiate between light blue, "goluboy," and dark blue, "siniy." So Russians have this lifetime of experience of, in language, distinguishing these two colors. When we test people's ability to perceptually discriminate these colors, what we find is that Russian speakers are faster across this linguistic boundary. They're faster to be able to tell the difference between a light and dark blue. And when you look at people's brains as they're looking at colors -- say you have colors shifting slowly from light to dark blue -- the brains of people who use different words for light and dark blue will give a surprised reaction as the colors shift from light to dark, as if, "Ooh, something has categorically changed," whereas the brains of English speakers, for example, that don't make this categorical distinction, don't give that surprise, because nothing is categorically changing.
Els idiomes tenen tot tipus de peculiaritats estructurals. Aquesta és de les meves preferides: molts idiomes tenen gènere gramatical; a cada nom li assignem un gènere, normalment masculí o femení. I el gènere canvia d'un idioma a l'altre. Per exemple, el sol és femení en alemany però masculí en castellà. i la lluna, al revès. Podria ser que això tingui conseqüències en com pensem les persones? Pensen els alemanys en el sol com una figura més femenina i la lluna com més masculina? De fet, resulta que és així. Si demanes a parlants d'alemany i castellà que descriguin un pont, com aquest d'aquí — "pont" resulta ser gramaticalment femení en alemany i masculí en castellà — els que parlen alemany són més propensos a considerar els ponts bonics o elegants paraules estereotípicament femenines. I els que parlen castellà són més propensos a dir que són sòlids o llargs, paraules masculines.
Languages have all kinds of structural quirks. This is one of my favorites. Lots of languages have grammatical gender; every noun gets assigned a gender, often masculine or feminine. And these genders differ across languages. So, for example, the sun is feminine in German but masculine in Spanish, and the moon, the reverse. Could this actually have any consequence for how people think? Do German speakers think of the sun as somehow more female-like, and the moon somehow more male-like? Actually, it turns out that's the case. So if you ask German and Spanish speakers to, say, describe a bridge, like the one here -- "bridge" happens to be grammatically feminine in German, grammatically masculine in Spanish -- German speakers are more likely to say bridges are "beautiful," "elegant" and stereotypically feminine words. Whereas Spanish speakers will be more likely to say they're "strong" or "long," these masculine words.
(Rialles)
(Laughter)
Els idiomes també difereixen en com descriure els fets. Per exemple, en un accident com aquest, en anglès diem "Ell va trencar el gerro". En un idioma com el castellà és més comú dir que "es va trencar" o "el gerro es va trencar". Si és un accident, no diríeu que algú ho ha fet. En anglès, estranyament podem dir coses com: "Vaig trencar el meu braç." En molts idiomes, no es fa servir aquesta construcció a no ser que siguis boig i et vulguis trencar el braç, (Rialles) i ho hagis aconseguit. Si és un accident, fas servir una construcció diferent.
Languages also differ in how they describe events, right? You take an event like this, an accident. In English, it's fine to say, "He broke the vase." In a language like Spanish, you might be more likely to say, "The vase broke," or, "The vase broke itself." If it's an accident, you wouldn't say that someone did it. In English, quite weirdly, we can even say things like, "I broke my arm." Now, in lots of languages, you couldn't use that construction unless you are a lunatic and you went out looking to break your arm -- (Laughter) and you succeeded. If it was an accident, you would use a different construction.
Això té conseqüències. Persones que parlen idiomes diferents, pararan atenció a coses diferents depenent del que cada idioma requereixi. Per tant, si ensenyem un mateix accident a angloparlants i castellanoparlants, els angloparlants recordaran qui l'ha fet, perquè l'anglès fa necessari dir "Ell ho va fer; ell va trencar el gerro". Els castellanoparlants potser no recordaran tant qui ho ha fet si és un accident, però recordaran més que és un accident. Tenen més tendència a recordar la intenció. Així doncs, dues persones que veuen el mateix fet, i poden ser testimonis d'un mateix crim, acaben recordant el que ha passat de manera diferent. Això té implicacions pels testimonis oculars i també per a la culpa i el càstig. Si agafes angloparlants -i acabes d'ensenyar algú trencant un gerro- i dic "Ell va trencar el gerro" en comptes de "El gerro es va trencar", tot i que en sou testimonis, podeu veure el vídeo, i el crim contra el gerro, vosaltres imposareu un càstig més sever, i ho condemnareu més si us he dit "Ell el va trencar" en comptes de "S'ha trencat". L'idioma guia el nostre raonament sobre els fets.
Now, this has consequences. So, people who speak different languages will pay attention to different things, depending on what their language usually requires them to do. So we show the same accident to English speakers and Spanish speakers, English speakers will remember who did it, because English requires you to say, "He did it; he broke the vase." Whereas Spanish speakers might be less likely to remember who did it if it's an accident, but they're more likely to remember that it was an accident. They're more likely to remember the intention. So, two people watch the same event, witness the same crime, but end up remembering different things about that event. This has implications, of course, for eyewitness testimony. It also has implications for blame and punishment. So if you take English speakers and I just show you someone breaking a vase, and I say, "He broke the vase," as opposed to "The vase broke," even though you can witness it yourself, you can watch the video, you can watch the crime against the vase, you will punish someone more, you will blame someone more if I just said, "He broke it," as opposed to, "It broke." The language guides our reasoning about events.
Us he donat alguns exemples de fins a quin punt l'idioma pot modelar la manera com pensem i ho fa de moltes i diverses maneres. L'idioma pot tenir un impacte important, com hem vist amb l'espai i el temps, sobre com els administrem i ordenem amb marcs de coordenades absolutament diferents. L'idioma pot així també tenir un efecte profund, com hem vist amb els nombres. Tenir mots per comptar en el teu idioma i paraules pels nombres ens dona accés a tot un món de matemàtiques. Obviament, si no comptes, no pots fer àlgebra, ni pots fer tot allò que seria necessari per construir un espai com aquest o fer aquesta transmissió, ¿oi? Tenir mots per als nombres representa el primer esglaó a tot un nou reialme cognitiu.
Now, I've given you a few examples of how language can profoundly shape the way we think, and it does so in a variety of ways. So language can have big effects, like we saw with space and time, where people can lay out space and time in completely different coordinate frames from each other. Language can also have really deep effects -- that's what we saw with the case of number. Having count words in your language, having number words, opens up the whole world of mathematics. Of course, if you don't count, you can't do algebra, you can't do any of the things that would be required to build a room like this or make this broadcast, right? This little trick of number words gives you a stepping stone into a whole cognitive realm.
L'idioma també pot tenir efectes precoços, com hem vist amb el color: decisions perceptuals, simples i bàsiques. En fem milers alhora i, tot i així, l'idioma hi intervé i influeix en aquestes petites decisions perceptuals que prenem, L'idioma pot tenir efectes molt amplis. El cas del gènere gramatical pot ser absurd però també és quelcom que s'aplica a tots els substantius. Això significa que l'idioma pot modelar com penses sobre qualsevol cosa que pugui ser anomenada. I en són un munt.
Language can also have really early effects, what we saw in the case of color. These are really simple, basic, perceptual decisions. We make thousands of them all the time, and yet, language is getting in there and fussing even with these tiny little perceptual decisions that we make. Language can have really broad effects. So the case of grammatical gender may be a little silly, but at the same time, grammatical gender applies to all nouns. That means language can shape how you're thinking about anything that can be named by a noun. That's a lot of stuff.
Per últim, us he donat un exemple de com l'idioma pot modelar coses amb una càrrega emocional com la culpa, el càstig, o el record d'un testimoni. Són aspectes importants en la nostra vida quotidiana.
And finally, I gave you an example of how language can shape things that have personal weight to us -- ideas like blame and punishment or eyewitness memory. These are important things in our daily lives.
La bellesa de la diversitat lingüística és que ens desvela l'enginy i la flexibilitat que pot tenir la ment humana. Hem inventat no pas un univers cognitiu, sinó 7000. Es parlen 7000 idiomes arreu del món. I en podem crear molts més. Els idiomes són entitats vives, que podem polir i adaptar a les nostres necessitats. La tragèdia és que estiguem perdent tanta d'aquesta diversitat lingüística constantment. Es perd prop d'un idioma a la setmana, i segons algunes estimacions, la meitat dels idiomes del món desapareixeran en els pròxims 100 anys. Encara pitjor és que ara mateix gairebé tot el que coneixem de la ment humana i el cervell està basat en l'estudi d'universitaris americans i angloparlants. Això exclou a gairebé tots els éssers humans, ¿oi? El que se sap de la ment humana és poc i subjectiu. i la nostra ciència ho ha de fer millor.
Now, the beauty of linguistic diversity is that it reveals to us just how ingenious and how flexible the human mind is. Human minds have invented not one cognitive universe, but 7,000 -- there are 7,000 languages spoken around the world. And we can create many more -- languages, of course, are living things, things that we can hone and change to suit our needs. The tragic thing is that we're losing so much of this linguistic diversity all the time. We're losing about one language a week, and by some estimates, half of the world's languages will be gone in the next hundred years. And the even worse news is that right now, almost everything we know about the human mind and human brain is based on studies of usually American English-speaking undergraduates at universities. That excludes almost all humans. Right? So what we know about the human mind is actually incredibly narrow and biased, and our science has to do better.
I us vull deixar amb aquesta darrera idea. Hem vist que al parlar idiomes diferents pensem de manera diferent. Però no es tracta de com pensen els altres, es tracta de com pensem nosaltres. Es tracta de com el nostre propi idioma modela la manera com pensem. I com això dona peu a preguntar-nos: "Per què penso com penso?" "Com podria pensar diferent?" I també: "Quins pensaments vull crear?"
I want to leave you with this final thought. I've told you about how speakers of different languages think differently, but of course, that's not about how people elsewhere think. It's about how you think. It's how the language that you speak shapes the way that you think. And that gives you the opportunity to ask, "Why do I think the way that I do?" "How could I think differently?" And also, "What thoughts do I wish to create?"
Moltíssimes gràcies.
Thank you very much.
(Aplaudiments)
(Applause)