Speaking About Tongues
The issue of how language works was alluded to in the last section and in previous blog entries, such as Precision Games. If you are a grammarphobe, this section might bore you or drive you crazy, but I assure you that it has a significant bearing on this discussion and the definition of the catachrestic dichotomy. Such as where games, like programming and other forms of information theory, use a controlled vocabulary, study languages though I am nowhere near as well versed in this region as Saussure was, I know enough about linguistics to make some general observations and point this out as an apology in advance for any linguistics majors reading this. The difference here is that game rules are not descriptive about the role of their mechanics, only in how they are applied; thus, a pawn in one game is a token in another without describing the fact that these are the same device to show players positionality in the conceptual framework of the play space.
While we can apply general rules to describe classes of functions, each game must be studied on its own as one would any language. Grammar is the linguistic equivalent of the rules of the game. Tokens and pawns, being objects which have actions applied to them are the nouns/pronouns of games. The ways in which they are affected make up the verbs. Modifiers can thus be viewed as adjectives and adverbs based on how the modifiers are applied (e.g. +2 to hit, a king in checkers). The analogy begins to break down when it comes to individual words. Words do not necessarily belong to subclasses based on related definitions the way rules can often be categorized.
Here is where languages get weird. They are not quite semiotic despite being an arbitrary assignment of sounds and letters to represent the object, concept, or quality being represented and bound to each word. Yet, the words remain just fuzzy enough that by themselves they retain multiple meanings that represent shadings within the symbolized value. The word “play” for example can be a noun, verb, quality, or concept. By itself it becomes a symbol as it stands for itself and the multiplicity beyond its form. It is only when placed in a sentence that it loses its ambiguity (perhaps even its liminality).
Language works to form a picture that is a cohesive whole. The gaps left in the details allow enough room for interpretation by the message’s receiver. Whether an outgrowth of evolution or conscious effort, language has been shaped to allow the core message to be transmitted without the need for exacting details, ensuring the concept is transferred. The rest of the details are left to the receiver to fill in. For example let us use the sentence “the boy hit the ball.” How much information did I give you? Very little. How much information is concrete? Again, very little. The only real information given is the gender of the child, what he does, and the object he interacted with. Other than the gender, even the other details are not very concrete as no information for how (or with what) the ball was hit or the type of ball described. However chances are very good you supplied all of the details to make the concept into a complete picture, down to the clothing and age of the child. You also supplied the ball and the manner in which it was struck. This is how words are fuzzy but come together to form a concise picture.
By relying on the receiver, a message works with the loose collection of data to create what Saussure refers to as the signifier and signified. These two items together create a sign, but keep in mind that the information is going from the signifier to the signified. Thus, without an actual object present, no one can say they are observing the same object. This is why words from multiple languages for the same object do not look nor sound alike. Hence words are arbitrarily assigned to objects and concepts, just like the components in games. This is in part where the fuzziness of the words comes into play. The aforementioned sentence of the boy hitting a ball is a prime example. The sign I envisioned is not necessarily the same as yours. Chances are that you uses a child you know to concretize the image, just like I did.
Games do the same thing. The difference is that the sign generated is unique to the play session. You may recall the meanings generated from each play experience, but that by no way means the signs of different instances will be the same. However, they are related by the context of the rules. The signs of the events are akin to definitions. Sessions of Risk have similar outcomes. The same is true of Settlers of Catan, Power Grid, and so forth. Such “texts” grow out of the experience; this is similar to what leads to new definitions that are appended to existing words. With games, however, there is a liminality to the sign that cannot be fully rendered in words or symbols to express it to anyone who was not present.
So, this is how language grows and functions. We start with the strings of arbitrary sounds and imbue within them meaning. As our range of experience increases, we come across new items and situations that fall outside our descriptive powers. How then do we encode these new experiences and concepts into language? For one, we have to incorporate the change to nature as we understood it in our psyche. Once we have accepted the existence of the change we need to find a way to speak about it in a manner that will be acceptable to all parties involved. The process involves abusing language by making it bridge a gap in our knowledge we now know exists. This can be messy, political, and confusing.
Forcing language to accommodate anything disrupts the social balance. This is in part due to the inherent power ascribed to defining concepts. We can see this in such phrases such as “estate tax” being referred to as a “death tax”, “illegal immigrants” as “undocumented immigrants,” and the terms used to describe various ethnicities that have replaced the unquestioned racially-charged monikers of the past. There are clear feelings closely bound with these words and that colors the perceptions of the speakers and the audience. That is how potent language can be. When we force this shift in view that comes with new words and definitions, we engage in catachresis. This is the act of “abuse” that seems to pervert nature and language. The power to view the world as however we choose can shake society to its core. Though it is we who undergo the paradigm shift, we experience it as an abuse of the status quo.
Without catachresis, however, we have no way to express new ideas in a relatively compressed manner. Words are already filled with compressed content. This is why we have multiple definitions assigned to words. What are being transmitted are the concepts embedded in the words used. For this reason, language has to grow in order to allow us to save time while transmitting meaningful messages as efficiently as possible. This allows us to cut down on tedium and the drudgery our brains do not want to deal with when executing routine tasks. Seriously, try concentrating on the individual steps needed for tasks we do every day and see how quickly it frustrates you. It also explains why language acquisition is harder for adults and children. Our brains do not want to learn new ways to express concepts we have already mastered.
The inherent problem in all of this is that it leaves plenty of room for misunderstanding and misinterpretation to occur. Catachresis and the eventual arrival at consensus for incorporating these concepts into the lexicon is how we try to resolve these issues collectively. This leads us to a point where we are always striving to close the gaps between what we observe and experience and how we share that information through mutually accessible signs. All the while, the terms used to convey the same information work like game tokens and relate the social positionality of the speaker, which further aids in miscommunication and misunderstanding. These types of shifts lead to the development of dialects and language splits. For games, this is not all that far removed from the concepts of house rules and new games designed in response to a community’s needs or isolation.
The fuzziness that leads to a concrete whole is a precarious communication method. It is also very versatile. The divergent methods that allow us to reach the same sign speak to the resilience of language and its rules along with why it, and not math, has become the preferred communication tool. Thus, going from an abstract, emotion- and experiential-laden collection of words to a single idea with little to almost no mistaken identity is what gives language its power. To further the utility of language, it can grow and morph by the actions of the speakers to co-opt areas of nature never before encountered. Compare this to the structure of math in the following section.
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Anatomy of Game Design: An Unbridgeable Divide, Part 2
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Anatomy of Game Design: An Unbridgeable Divide, Part 4