A Whole Nother Issue

There is a common misconception that it is the language of the elite which everyone imitates and is the basis for ideas of correct or desirable speech habits. It used to have some truth to it — though it was was always an oversimplification, neglecting as it did the populist element in the standardization debates that went on in various countries from the 17th through the 19th centuries. In any case, in the 21st century in developed and even developing countries, it seems like a matter of simple folk wisdom (which remains in circulation even in some linguistic literature in part because the speech of elites is rarely studied per se.)

In many modern nation-states, contrary to common perceptions, it is not the upper classes that adhere most to prescriptive speech norms. Nor, even in non-diglossic contexts, is it always their living speech which is taken as a model for correct language. Nor are they the ones most given to enforcing prescriptive standards in the speech of their children, or judging a person's character based on adherence to, or deviance from, a model of correct language use.

To the extent to which studies of elite language use in modern nation-states are available, the language of established elites is often typified by especial variability, and divergences from standard languages that would be stigmatized in less affluent circles. English spoken among members of some "old money" families in the Deep South, for example, appears to be quite resistant to assimilation by the phonological changes (such as rhotacization) that have taken place throughout speech communities in the Southern US, and speakers use a variety of non-standard constructions freely.

Elites, in fact, seem to be especially liable to cultivate non-standard or noticeably regional language as a matter of self-presentation, and embrace it as an expression of identity or as a way of assuring themselves and others that they aren't snobs, knowing that the worst that'll happen is that they might be mocked by people whose opinions they have no need to care about anyway. Think of the accent of George W. Bush, who has never needed to work a day in his life.

The example of Bush brings up another point I should address. Concern with correct language is not the same thing as concern with clarity of expression. It is possible to use non-standard language eloquently, as in the dialect poetry of Margaret Walker or Paul Laurence Dunbar. It is also possible to use the standard language awkwardly, in the rambling manner of a Sarah Palin. It is also possible to fail to adhere to a standard and produce ineloquent, awkward language in the attempt.

Those most concerned with eliminating non-standard, overtly regional or otherwise stigmatized elements from their speech (and from the speech of people they care about) tend to be of four kinds: (1) people farther down the social ladder with high aspirations, (2) people of humble beginnings who have come up in the world, (3) people who once were part of the elite but now — due to e.g. political upheaval or economic decline — have come down in the world, and (4) people who are afraid they might come down in the world. In other words: people who have, or have been given, reason to feel insecure. In the US in particular, it is upwardly mobile individuals from low-income backgrounds that are often the most zealous about the importance of correct language, and most likely to hold to conservative language ideologies. Bill Cosby's attitudes toward non-standard Black English are an almost textbook example. Two others would be Ezra Pound and T.S. Elliot, both in the acrolectal British accents they cultivated, and their delusions regarding the cultural importance of hygienic and good language.

But Pound and Eliot were of another era, and for both there were somewhat idiosyncratic reasons for the variety of English they looked to as a model. Today, the common target speech variety in the US is, broadly speaking, the one used by members of the professional-managerial class — the economic middlemen of the white-collar world. I'm thinking particularly of those involved in arts, education, academia, non-profits, public service and administration, working the kinds of jobs where it is necessary to have the right manners, to say the right things, to seem like the right kind of person, and of course to appear hip and cool if possible. I note also that it is this sociolect of American English where political correctness is most important (if you're American, just think about the sort of person who opts for the term "African-American" in spontaneous informal speech instead of "Black.") The language used by those who sign these people's paychecks, however, is not generally the target speech variety of the upwardly mobile. Nobody, after all, wants to sound like an asshole if they can avoid it.

Even setting aside diglossic situations like Arabic or Tamil (where language attitudes to writing tend to be more complex) such a target speech variety is by no means always identical to the written norm, and does not generally correspond to anybody's prescriptive ideal. It tends to have elements that would be considered non-standard by grammarians or their modern heirs. In some linguistically judgmental circles, even excessively standard speech may be viewed quite negatively. (In fact, grammarians and their ilk have often been wont to preserve or even manufacture distinctions without warrant in any spoken variety precisely to ensure that complete correctness in writing can only be acquired by active training — and therefore only by those with access to such training. For a variety of reasons, this is much less the case today in English. One example is the traditional person distinction between "will" and "shall" in English, along with analogous person-distinctions for "should" and "would" which fly in the face of the way those modals are used in living speech, and which left no lasting trace except a few fossilized acrolectalisms such as "I should think so.")

Though non-standard usages in such a target variety may be plentiful, they are never of the stigmatized kind. "I done seen him" and "I ain't sure" are banned from American managerial professional contexts, but I would be genuinely surprised if a single American has ever tanked a job-interview by saying "a whole nother" instead of "a whole other" (however many schoolmarms it might piss off.) Likewise "nucular" for "nuclear" may be frowned upon in non-military professional contexts, but similar metathesized forms such as "comfterble" for "comfortable" may be quite acceptable as part of the spoken norm. Indeed, an entire class of peculiarities often arises due to the high value placed on "speaking correctly." Such target varieties — particularly when spoken spontaneously — usually harbor at least a few hypercorrections. In the US, for example, constructions like "As for you and I" — resulting from a stigmatization of a specific type of collocation — are most common among members of the professional-managerial class, and are frequently copied by those aspiring to join their number.

(Incidentally: the stigmatization of a specific collocation is due to the fact that oblique forms of English pronouns don't actually mark the object of a verb per se. They can appear in more or less any position that doesn't lead the verb phrase. e.g. "Me too! I want to go!" A strict subject/object distinction in English pronouns doesn't actually exist in any form of spoken English acquired natively, and so it comes as little surprise that speakers wishing to speak "correctly" therefore have difficulty accessing such a model as a guide to when one should say "me" or "I". Repeated failed attempts to access non-existent syntax, in the absence of intensive drilling to pattern one's speech directly off of the written language, lead instead to the stigmatization of specific collocations — in this case the use of an oblique pronoun immediately after "and" regardless of syntactic context.)

And it is those who are most insecure, and thus most hyper-concerned, who attempt (sometimes to the bemusement of their peers) to regulate or discourage even hypercorrections in the speech of others. It is akin to the insecurity, and the resulting prescriptive attitudes, which afflict Russians or French-speakers, in the face of the diminishing international roles of their languages.

Hyper-concern with correctness of language, particularly of spoken language, is not a sign of power, status or privilege necessarily. Sometimes, as is often the case with e.g. Greek language purism, it is about nationalism. Sometimes it is merely a mark of a mistaken belief in a meritocratic society where, if you just speak properly, you'll be treated equally — and a desire to eliminate injurious differences. Often, however, it is a mark of insecurity, of vulnerability, and of fear. It may be fear of losing the power or status one has, if any. It may also be fear of judgement, fear of not seeming good enough; a preference that — if you are to be judged — it be on the quality of your speech rather than something else less mutable such as your ancestry, where you're from or how much money your parents made.

No comments:

Post a Comment