I am fascinated by the recent study on linguistic efficiency which I ran across this afternoon while lying on a couch under a cat. Obviously it is not the last word on the subject—a sample set of seventeen languages from nine language families is barely scraping the surface, especially when it's heavily weighted toward Indo-European—but I am already impatient for further work, because if it turns out to be true that all human languages are about as efficient at transmitting information regardless of their average rate of speech, then I want to know if the same holds true of conlangs. I feel it should be true of the good ones, in that they will behave most like natural languages, but because so many of them exist only on the page or in specifically translated dialogue, it might well not be, simply because they haven't been subject to the pressures of extempore speech. (What I think I actually said to ![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
spatch was, "Is Quenya efficient, or just pretty?" Meanwhile Klingon was designed to sound weird to humans and I would love to know what that did to its information capacity.) In the case of natural languages that started life as conlangs, like Modern Hebrew, is efficiency one of the properties they acquire as they adapt to daily use and the bells and whistles give way to the lasting word for tomato? I want someone to loop Ghil'ad Zuckermann in on this question. But mostly I want the researchers to get some Afroasiatic or Arawakan or Trans–New Guinea or or or languages into their mix and see what happens then.
I am also just very fond of this illustrative bit in the Atlantic article which I read before the actual paper in Science Advances—
The basic problem of "efficiency," in linguistics, starts with the trade-off between effort and communication. It takes a certain amount of coordination, and burns a certain number of calories, to make noises come out of your mouth in an intelligible way. And those noises can be more or less informative to a listener, based on how predictable they are. If you and I are discussing dinosaurs, you wouldn't be surprised to hear me rattle off the names of my favorite species. But if a stranger walks up to you on the street and announces, "Diplodocus!" it's unexpected. It narrows the scope of possible conversation topics greatly and is therefore highly informative.
—mostly because it sounds as though it is suggesting that if you really want to communicate with someone, you should walk up to them cold and shout dinosaur names at them. I must say from experience, it works great for five-year-olds.
spatch was, "Is Quenya efficient, or just pretty?" Meanwhile Klingon was designed to sound weird to humans and I would love to know what that did to its information capacity.) In the case of natural languages that started life as conlangs, like Modern Hebrew, is efficiency one of the properties they acquire as they adapt to daily use and the bells and whistles give way to the lasting word for tomato? I want someone to loop Ghil'ad Zuckermann in on this question. But mostly I want the researchers to get some Afroasiatic or Arawakan or Trans–New Guinea or or or languages into their mix and see what happens then.I am also just very fond of this illustrative bit in the Atlantic article which I read before the actual paper in Science Advances—
The basic problem of "efficiency," in linguistics, starts with the trade-off between effort and communication. It takes a certain amount of coordination, and burns a certain number of calories, to make noises come out of your mouth in an intelligible way. And those noises can be more or less informative to a listener, based on how predictable they are. If you and I are discussing dinosaurs, you wouldn't be surprised to hear me rattle off the names of my favorite species. But if a stranger walks up to you on the street and announces, "Diplodocus!" it's unexpected. It narrows the scope of possible conversation topics greatly and is therefore highly informative.
—mostly because it sounds as though it is suggesting that if you really want to communicate with someone, you should walk up to them cold and shout dinosaur names at them. I must say from experience, it works great for five-year-olds.
