In regards to how one ought to catalog language, there are two main schools of thought: the
prescriptivists and the
descriptivists. The former seek to preserve what they believe is the superior form of their language, while the latter view language as a natural phenomenon, and seek only to document and explain its behavior.
Linguistics, generally, began prescriptively (if we go back far enough, this means attempting to force Latin grammatical rules over English frames; this results in the multitude of style manuals and usage guides seen in any bookstore). Remember Rex Harrison in
My Fair Lady (or, more accurately, Professor Henry Higgins in G.B. Shaw's
Pygmalion)? A stodgy old British fellow, Higgins was obsessed with purifying the English language. The very first song Harrison (as Higgins) sings is "Why Can't the English...?," an hysterical rant on the state of speech in the UK, and how it is deplorable and deficient. In Higgins' mind, there is some such thing as Proper English, and those who don't speak it are wrong and stupid. This is the philosophy of a prescriptivist; one must prescribe how to speak, and those who don't follow these prescriptions are making mistakes, mistakes which must be corrected.
Descriptivism began (more or less) with
Edward Sapir, an early 20th century scholar. His attempts to catalog various languages (which he had no previous familiarity with, unlike French or Spanish, etc) jumpstarted modern Linguistics. (I do not laud Sapir blindly, however.
The Sapir-Whorf Hypothesis, a.k.a. Linguistic Determinism, lacks evidentiary and theoretical support). A drive to
transcribe what the speaker speaks, rather than correct him. An directive to
explain the behavior of all speech, rather than choose one mode as "proper." This overarching philosophy has guided the field up to this day, and debates still rage over it. David Foster Wallace's article "Authority and American Usage," (available as part of his collection
Consider the Lobster, in stores now) is a well-written but ultimately misguided summary of the current state of affairs.
So, dear readers, how do you feel? Should language be preserved, kept as it is, or described as closely as possible, with minimal interference? You've probably guessed my take on the whole situation, but I'd love to hear from you. Remember, intelligent debate, not name-calling and fighting. Happy commenting!
