I have two native languages which I speak regularly and fluently. I also understand basic Spanish, but I haven’t tried thinking about bets or probabilities in that language.
I think knowing two different languages so intimately, especially because my second language, Telugu, is from an Eastern culture, helps me see how values shape vocabulary. Group thinking, applause lights, and tribal politics are more salient when I switch languages, and especially when I try to find the exact word in one language to match to an important concept in the other.
For example, in Telugu, “My son” is used as an insult on par with “Bastard” or even “Motherfucker,” something I can’t even explain to monolingual English speakers. The idea is that parents have absolute authority over their children, so the speaker is claiming a huge amount of status over the other person, essentially asserting the right to do anything and everything to them, as one would to property. “You’re like dirt to me.” “Your only value is your use to me, and you have displeased me.” (Interesting parallels to “Who’s your daddy?”, although in the West they tend to emphasize dominance through greater skill rather than parental ownership.)
A very obvious example of tribalism: “Westerner” is used as an insult with the weight that “heretic” or “apostate” would have had 100 years ago in the West. Noticing that people in India spoke this way allowed me to notice the alarming frequency with which people in the US accuse others of being “un-American” or “un-democratic.” Looking back, this was probably part of what helped me admit that vague notions of “democracy” may not be the pinnacle of human government, though Enlightenment republics have worked out better than any system so far. I don’t think India achieved the peak of cultural perfection back when they codified the word “Westerner” to mean “Bad Person,” and it’s only a few hundred years later, so I doubt the US has achieved it, either.
Other things I’ve noticed: “homely” has a very positive connotation, meaning essentially this, which is considered the picture of female perfection. “I” tends to disappear when I’m speaking in Telugu; there is less need for it. “I’m sleepy” becomes “Sleep is coming”; “I’m hungry” becomes, roughly, “Hunger came/was applied to me.” Saying “I feel” and “I think” is awkward. I noticed that it might enhance the Mind Projection Fallacy, although I haven’t tried. (It could also encourage less selfish thinking.)
I feel a step removed from both cultures as a result of being steeped in them both, which is exactly the place I want to be as an aspiring rationalist. It’s a great exercise trying to translate connotations and associations across languages.
For example, in Telugu, “My son” is used as an insult on par with “Bastard” or even “Motherfucker,” something I can’t even explain to monolingual English speakers.
I have two native languages which I speak regularly and fluently. I also understand basic Spanish, but I haven’t tried thinking about bets or probabilities in that language.
I think knowing two different languages so intimately, especially because my second language, Telugu, is from an Eastern culture, helps me see how values shape vocabulary. Group thinking, applause lights, and tribal politics are more salient when I switch languages, and especially when I try to find the exact word in one language to match to an important concept in the other.
For example, in Telugu, “My son” is used as an insult on par with “Bastard” or even “Motherfucker,” something I can’t even explain to monolingual English speakers. The idea is that parents have absolute authority over their children, so the speaker is claiming a huge amount of status over the other person, essentially asserting the right to do anything and everything to them, as one would to property. “You’re like dirt to me.” “Your only value is your use to me, and you have displeased me.” (Interesting parallels to “Who’s your daddy?”, although in the West they tend to emphasize dominance through greater skill rather than parental ownership.)
A very obvious example of tribalism: “Westerner” is used as an insult with the weight that “heretic” or “apostate” would have had 100 years ago in the West. Noticing that people in India spoke this way allowed me to notice the alarming frequency with which people in the US accuse others of being “un-American” or “un-democratic.” Looking back, this was probably part of what helped me admit that vague notions of “democracy” may not be the pinnacle of human government, though Enlightenment republics have worked out better than any system so far. I don’t think India achieved the peak of cultural perfection back when they codified the word “Westerner” to mean “Bad Person,” and it’s only a few hundred years later, so I doubt the US has achieved it, either.
Other things I’ve noticed: “homely” has a very positive connotation, meaning essentially this, which is considered the picture of female perfection. “I” tends to disappear when I’m speaking in Telugu; there is less need for it. “I’m sleepy” becomes “Sleep is coming”; “I’m hungry” becomes, roughly, “Hunger came/was applied to me.” Saying “I feel” and “I think” is awkward. I noticed that it might enhance the Mind Projection Fallacy, although I haven’t tried. (It could also encourage less selfish thinking.)
I feel a step removed from both cultures as a result of being steeped in them both, which is exactly the place I want to be as an aspiring rationalist. It’s a great exercise trying to translate connotations and associations across languages.
American English does have something somewhat similar