Language isn’t just a tool for ordering cocktails on vacation or asking where the nearest bathroom is — though, admittedly, that’s useful. It’s something much deeper: a lens through which we experience and interpret reality.
Growing up, I was one of those kids forced to count to ten in multiple languages while brushing my teeth. Naturally, when it came time to pick a degree, I chose French and Spanish. Did I work hard? Not particularly. But I did get to live in Paris and Barcelona, which gave me plenty of opportunities to sharpen my language skills — and indulge a few guilty pleasures.
For years, when people asked me what I planned to “do” with my languages degree, I never had a satisfying answer. But now, after nearly a decade of reflection, I finally do: language isn’t just about utility. It’s not just for finding directions or ordering another glass of wine. Language shapes how we think, feel, and experience the world around us.
The Way Language Rewires Reality
This idea isn’t new. The theory of linguistic relativity, popularized by Edward Sapir and Benjamin Whorf (and yes, the movie Arrival), suggests that the structure of a language influences how its speakers perceive and understand reality. But even long before Sapir and Whorf, Plato hinted at this in his dialogues, and German philosopher Johann Georg Hamann described language as a reflection of a people’s collective mentality.
Consider time. English speakers imagine it as a horizontal line: the past is behind us, and the future lies ahead. But for the Aymara people of the Andes, it’s the opposite. The future is behind them because it’s unknown and unseen, while the past is in front of them because they’ve lived it and can “see” it clearly. This linguistic difference shapes how they conceptualize time — not as something they move through, but as something that moves past them.
Or take color. In Russian, there are distinct words for light blue (голубой) and dark blue (синий), which makes these shades seem more separate to Russian speakers than to English speakers. Studies suggest their brains even process these colors differently than ours do.
Then there’s direction. English speakers say left, right, forward, and backward. But speakers of Guugu Yimithirr, an Aboriginal language in Australia, use cardinal directions: north, south, east, and west. To speak their language fluently, you have to know where north is at all times. Imagine how that changes your sense of orientation — perhaps even your connection to the world around you.
Words That Don’t Translate, Emotions That Do
Some languages capture feelings and ideas so specific they don’t translate neatly into others. The Portuguese word saudade describes a deep, aching nostalgia for someone or something, tinged with the painful understanding that you may never encounter them again. In Japanese, mono no aware conveys a bittersweet awareness of life’s impermanence, often evoked by the fleeting beauty of cherry blossoms or autumn leaves.
These untranslatable words hint at how language shapes not just thought but emotion. Different cultures experience and express feelings in ways uniquely tied to their words.
Why Learning a New Language Changes Everything
Learning a new language isn’t just about surviving abroad or expanding your resume. It’s about seeing the world through a different lens. It changes how you think, how you feel, and even how you see yourself. Each new word, phrase, or concept expands your understanding of what it means to be human.
And as you learn another language, you gain fresh insight into your own. You begin to see the quirks, limitations, and beauty of your native tongue in ways you never noticed before.
So no, language isn’t just a tool — it’s a map, a mirror, and sometimes even a magic trick that reshapes the world as you know it.
