To an uninformed reader, your comment may imply that Esperanto has perhaps since then evolved the same kind of morphological irregularities that we find in “natural” languages, but this isn’t the case.
From my experience with learning several foreign languages, morphological irregularities look scary in the beginning, but they completely pale in comparison with the complexity and irregularity of syntax and semantics. There are many natural languages with very little morphological complexity, but these aren’t any easier to learn to speak like a native. (On the other hand, for example, Slavic languages have very complicated and irregular inflectional morphology, but you’ll learn to recite all the conjugations and declensions back and forth sooner than you’ll figure out how to choose between the verbal aspects even approximately right.)
The thick grammar books you speak of are no doubt descriptions of such features. But these aren’t the kind of books people use to learn any language, Esperanto included; and if you compare actual pedagogical books on Esperanto to those on “natural” languages, you will find that they are simpler.
However, the whole point is that in order to speak in a way that will sound natural and grammatical to fluent speakers, you have to internalize all those incredibly complicated points of syntax and semantics, which have developed naturally with time. Of course that nobody except linguists thinks about these rules explicitly, but fluent speakers judge instinctively whether a given utterance is grammatical based on them (and the linguist’s challenge is in fact to reverse-engineer these intuitions into explicit rules).
(Even when it comes to inflectional morphology, assuming a lively community of Esperanto speakers persists into the future, how long do you think it will take before common contractions start grammaticalizing into rudimentary irregular inflections?)
From my experience with learning several foreign languages, morphological irregularities look scary in the beginning, but they completely pale in comparison with the complexity and irregularity of syntax and semantics.
I agree. However, making something look less scary in the beginning still constitutes an improvement from a pedagogical point of view. The more quickly you can learn the basic morphology and lexicon, the sooner you can begin the process of intuiting the higher-level rules and social conventions that govern larger units of discourse.
However, the whole point is that in order to speak in a way that will sound natural and grammatical to fluent speakers, you have to internalize all those incredibly complicated points of syntax and semantics, which have developed naturally with time.
Due to a large amount of basic structure common to all human language, it’s usually not that hard to learn how to sound grammatical. The difficult part of acquiring a new language is learning how to sound idiomatic. And this basically amounts to learning a new set of social conventions. So there may not be much that language-planning per se can do to facilitate this aspect of language-learning—which may be a large part of your point. But I would emphasize that the issue here is more sociological than linguistic: it isn’t that the structure of the human language apparatus prevents us from creating languages that are easier to learn than existing natural languages—after all, existing languages are not optimized for ease of learning, especially as second languages. It’s just that constructing a grammar is not the same as constructing the conventions and norms of a speech community, and the latter may be a more difficult task.
(Even when it comes to inflectional morphology, assuming a lively community of Esperanto speakers persists into the future, how long do you think it will take before common contractions start grammaticalizing into rudimentary irregular inflections?)
This kind of drift will presumably happen given enough time, but it’s worth noting that (for obvious reasons) Esperantists tend to be more disciplined about maintaining the integrity of the language than is typical among speakers of most languages, and they’ve been pretty successful so far.
This kind of drift will presumably happen given enough time, but it’s worth noting that (for obvious reasons) Esperantists tend to be more disciplined about maintaining the integrity of the language than is typical among speakers of most languages, and they’ve been pretty successful so far.
One advantage Esperanto has over natural language, is that nearly all of its speakers speak it as a second language. That is way most of its learners are self-consciously trying to maintain its integrity.
I agree. However, making something look less scary in the beginning still constitutes an improvement from a pedagogical point of view. The more quickly you can learn the basic morphology and lexicon, the sooner you can begin the process of intuiting the higher-level rules and social conventions that govern larger units of discourse.
That is true. One of my pet theories is that at beginner and intermediate levels, simple inflectional morphology fools people into overestimating how good they are, which gives them more courage and confidence to speak actively, and thus helps them improve with time. With more synthetic languages, people are more conscious of how broken their speech is, so they’re more afraid and hesitant. But if you somehow manage to eliminate the fear, the advantage of analytic languages disappears.
Due to a large amount of basic structure common to all human language, it’s usually not that hard to learn how to sound grammatical. The difficult part of acquiring a new language is learning how to sound idiomatic.
Here I disagree. Even after you learn to sound idiomatic in a foreign language, there will still be some impossibly convoluted issues of grammar (usually syntax) where you’ll occasionally make mistakes that make any native speaker cringe at how ungrammatical your utterance is. For example, the definite article and choice of prepositions in English are in this category. Another example are the already mentioned Slavic verbal aspects. (Getting them wrong sounds really awful, but it’s almost impossible for non-native speakers, even very proficient ones, to get them right consistently. Gallons of ink have been spent trying to formulate clear and complete rules, without much success.)
I don’t know if any work has been done to analyze these issues from an evolutionary perspective, but it seems pretty clear to me that the human brain has an in-built functionality that recognizes even the slightest flaws in pronunciation and grammar characteristic of foreigners and raises a red flag. (This generalizes to all sorts of culture-specific behaviors, of course, including how idiomatic one’s speech is.) I strongly suspect that the language of any community, even if it starts as a constructed language optimized for ease of learning by outsiders, will soon naturally develop these shibboleth-generating properties. (These are also important when it comes to different sociolects and registers within a community, of course.)
From my experience with learning several foreign languages, morphological irregularities look scary in the beginning, but they completely pale in comparison with the complexity and irregularity of syntax and semantics. There are many natural languages with very little morphological complexity, but these aren’t any easier to learn to speak like a native. (On the other hand, for example, Slavic languages have very complicated and irregular inflectional morphology, but you’ll learn to recite all the conjugations and declensions back and forth sooner than you’ll figure out how to choose between the verbal aspects even approximately right.)
However, the whole point is that in order to speak in a way that will sound natural and grammatical to fluent speakers, you have to internalize all those incredibly complicated points of syntax and semantics, which have developed naturally with time. Of course that nobody except linguists thinks about these rules explicitly, but fluent speakers judge instinctively whether a given utterance is grammatical based on them (and the linguist’s challenge is in fact to reverse-engineer these intuitions into explicit rules).
(Even when it comes to inflectional morphology, assuming a lively community of Esperanto speakers persists into the future, how long do you think it will take before common contractions start grammaticalizing into rudimentary irregular inflections?)
I agree. However, making something look less scary in the beginning still constitutes an improvement from a pedagogical point of view. The more quickly you can learn the basic morphology and lexicon, the sooner you can begin the process of intuiting the higher-level rules and social conventions that govern larger units of discourse.
Due to a large amount of basic structure common to all human language, it’s usually not that hard to learn how to sound grammatical. The difficult part of acquiring a new language is learning how to sound idiomatic. And this basically amounts to learning a new set of social conventions. So there may not be much that language-planning per se can do to facilitate this aspect of language-learning—which may be a large part of your point. But I would emphasize that the issue here is more sociological than linguistic: it isn’t that the structure of the human language apparatus prevents us from creating languages that are easier to learn than existing natural languages—after all, existing languages are not optimized for ease of learning, especially as second languages. It’s just that constructing a grammar is not the same as constructing the conventions and norms of a speech community, and the latter may be a more difficult task.
This kind of drift will presumably happen given enough time, but it’s worth noting that (for obvious reasons) Esperantists tend to be more disciplined about maintaining the integrity of the language than is typical among speakers of most languages, and they’ve been pretty successful so far.
One advantage Esperanto has over natural language, is that nearly all of its speakers speak it as a second language. That is way most of its learners are self-consciously trying to maintain its integrity.
That is true. One of my pet theories is that at beginner and intermediate levels, simple inflectional morphology fools people into overestimating how good they are, which gives them more courage and confidence to speak actively, and thus helps them improve with time. With more synthetic languages, people are more conscious of how broken their speech is, so they’re more afraid and hesitant. But if you somehow manage to eliminate the fear, the advantage of analytic languages disappears.
Here I disagree. Even after you learn to sound idiomatic in a foreign language, there will still be some impossibly convoluted issues of grammar (usually syntax) where you’ll occasionally make mistakes that make any native speaker cringe at how ungrammatical your utterance is. For example, the definite article and choice of prepositions in English are in this category. Another example are the already mentioned Slavic verbal aspects. (Getting them wrong sounds really awful, but it’s almost impossible for non-native speakers, even very proficient ones, to get them right consistently. Gallons of ink have been spent trying to formulate clear and complete rules, without much success.)
I don’t know if any work has been done to analyze these issues from an evolutionary perspective, but it seems pretty clear to me that the human brain has an in-built functionality that recognizes even the slightest flaws in pronunciation and grammar characteristic of foreigners and raises a red flag. (This generalizes to all sorts of culture-specific behaviors, of course, including how idiomatic one’s speech is.) I strongly suspect that the language of any community, even if it starts as a constructed language optimized for ease of learning by outsiders, will soon naturally develop these shibboleth-generating properties. (These are also important when it comes to different sociolects and registers within a community, of course.)