In the Land of Invented Languages - Arika Okrent [89]
Ambiguity, or fuzziness of meaning, is not a flaw of natural language but a feature that gives it flexibility and that, for whatever reason, suits our minds and the way we think. Likewise, the fact that languages depend on arbitrary convention or cultural habit is not a flaw but a feature that allows us to rein in the fuzziness by establishing agreed-upon meanings at different levels of precision. Language needs its “flaws” in order to do the enormous range of things we use it for.
But what about irregularity? All those exceptions to the rules? Does language really need that? Probably not. But it comes about as a natural by-product of convention. Languages like Esperanto have an advantage in that they are built from preexisting conventions—the general language habits of speakers of European languages. Esperanto itself does particularly well because it developed its own culture and community, and therefore has better-defined conventions for what words mean and how they should be used. But at the same time, it has sacrificed some of the perfect regularity that it was intended to have. For example, the accusative -n ending used to mark the object of a verb is in the process of being lost. Speakers often leave it out—and joke about what a pain it is to remember to use it—and one study found that even native speakers don't use it all that consistently, even when the language of their home country has an accusative marker. But they always use it when they say saluton, “hello,” or dankon, “thanks.” Those words were originally formed as the objects of verbs (as in “I wish you greetings” or “I give you thanks”); now they are just set phrases that happen to have an -n ending. But they are used so often, and their forms are so established by habit, or convention, that they are immune from the erosion of the grammatical marker they express.
Some of the irregularities in natural languages came about in a similar way. At one stage in the history of English, the past tenses of verbs were marked by a regular vowel change process; instead of “help/helped,” we had “help/holp.” Over time, -ed became the preferred way to mark the past tense, and eventually the past tense of most verbs was formed by adding -ed. But the old pattern was preserved in verbs like “eat/ate,” “give/gave,” “take/ took,” “get/got”—verbs that are used very often, and so are more entrenched as a linguistic habit (the very frequently used “was/ were” is a holdover from an even older pattern). They became irregular because the world changed around them.
Nobody means for words to become irregular. Some things are well reinforced by the habits of the language users, and other things give way to change. One day someone comes along and asks, “Hey, why doesn't this one fit the pattern?” and the answer has to be, “Well, 'cause that's the way we say it.” One day, newcomers to Esperanto may ask the same thing about saluton and dankon. They will also probably want to know why people say stas for “is” (a shortened pronunciation that many young Esperanto speakers use today) instead of estas, or ĝis for “goodbye” (the colloquial rendering of ĝis la revido, “until we see each other again”).
They already have to just learn the idiomatic meanings of certain expressions like ne jukas min (it doesn't itch me—“I don't care”) and jam temp' esta’ (a reference to a line of an old Zamenhof poem that modern speakers use—instead of the proper jam la tempo estas—to mean “the time has come”), and many other phrases you can't figure out