Not A Blog™

One thing that I’ve always wondered about high school was the choices of languages available. Romance languages I understand. That makes sense. Personally, I always wanted to take Russian which, I will be the first to admit, makes no sense, because I don’t know anyone in the US who speaks it, nor do I plan on visiting Russia. I ended up taking four years of German which is not completely without merit; I may visit Germany one day (not that I will remember any of the language to speak there), and I can always play the ancestors card. Come to think of it, I could play the ancestors card with Russian, too—but I digress.

But there was always one “language” that puzzled me as to why it wasn’t available—side from the obvious reason that there was no one to teach it. Although I suspect, had the position been made available, it could be filled. That language is American Sign language.

That’s not to say there are a lot of deaf people in the US who would benefit from everyone knowing at least the basics. Obviously this is one good thing, but it’s not the main reason I’ve been curious to learn ASL. No, the main reason should be obvious: with ASL you can communicate in loud venues where it’s difficult to talk, or you can communicate across a distance where shouting would be impolite. There are other scenarios where it would come in handy, too—and every time I find myself in one of these situations, I find myself wishing I spoke some sort of non-verbal language. This would be immensely helpful.

The problem with wishing this is that nobody else I know knows how to speak it. The entire endeavor becomes moot. The great thing about the internet is that there’s no excuse for ignorance on any subject one is interested in. I could be learning ASL, either through some online course, or at least using the internet to find classes where it’s taught locally. But I’m not, because the practicality of using it is overshadowed by the fact that no one actually uses it (except the deaf).

It’s an obvious leap, then, to include it in a school’s curriculum. I can’t imagine it would be terribly popular, however if the students are smart enough to recognize that it could be very helpful in a variety of situations that don’t involve the hearing impaired, I think it could be successful, or at least justifiable. Taking that further, I think that if SL was mandatory in public schools nationwide, it would only be two generations before such a task would be self-sustaining. If people who normally communicate verbally realized the power and usefulness of being able to communicate in some other way, the learning of SL would take off. The great side benefit is that now you can speak to people who can’t hear. Win-win.

But why stop there? Why not examine other methods of communication we take for granted. Reading is good to know—but what if there’s no light? It would only be more beneficial to know some sort of reading system which is not dependent on ambient light levels. Braille, of course. Regarding braille, I’ve always had two thoughts, which I’ll branch out to for a moment.

1. Laying in bed at night, trying to read with a flashlight (something I did way too much of), I’ve often considered how cool it would be to know braille. Forget trying to deal with a flashlight. I could just lay there and read. This awesome idea was waylaid by two things, namely that the only book I’d ever seen in braille was a really old copy of the Reader’s Digest—clearly they weren’t common; and I didn’t know braille. But if I did!

2. Regarding the teaching of braille, I’ve always wondered if it would be possible to “subconsciously” teach it to everyone if you put it on keyboards. I don’t think this would work for a variety of reasons, but it would be really interesting to try. Heck, I might try it on myself.

Anyway, braille was originally developed for the very purpose I imagined using it: Napoleon wanted something that his army could read at night without lights. I can see this being useful in any number of professions—especially if someone developed a hand-held braille labeler. You could use that to tag important items or equipment, such as mixers, which are typically used in the dark.

Another limitation is if you have audio, but with limited spectrum transmission. You might not be able to talk, but you could tap using Morse code. This isn’t necessarily something that would be used on a regular basis; it’s more for emergency situations. But when you need it in an emergency, it would be invaluable. That being said, I don’t see myself in any situation where knowing Morse code would be any sort of an advantage so I probably won’t be learning it. Besides, if I did end up in a situation like that, I have bigger problems. Nevertheless, it’s yet another method of communication that doesn’t rely on being understood the way speaking does.

The only contingency I haven’t covered here is trying to communicate when it’s dark and loud. You could be reading braille in such an environment, but this doesn’t work if you’re trying to communicate directly with another person. The only thing that I think could be effective in this situation is physical contact. I also can’t think of any places where this sort of thing would be necessary, and if you’re close enough for physical contact, you’re close enough to try shouting into someone else’s ear which is what people would do in that situation anyway. (Along those lines, I don’t know how deaf people communicate in the dark. I assume they don’t.)

This is all fun speculation while you’re sitting here comfortably in front of your computer, but what’s the point? Especially considering that in order for methods of communication to be at all useful, they have to have multiple people who understand them. What’s the use in learning sign language when there’s no one around—aside from the hearing impared—to speak it with?

While I think it would be beneficial to at least offer sign language in school (as well as other non-traditional methods of communication), I don’t see how not knowing would cause any sort of problem. Yet.

Let’s assume a culture where everyone is trained in all these methods of non-verbal communication. What advantage would these people have over another culture where people only use the most common methods? Simple: survivability.

Here’s my futurist prediction of the day. If humans ever venture en masse off Earth, they’re going to need all the help they can get. Space is dangerous. A simple, cost effective way to increase survival rates in hostile environments is to train people to communicate in ways other than speaking and reading/writing. A space-faring culture—if such a thing will ever come to pass—will be a culture equally adept at speaking, signing, writing, reading the printed page, and reading the textured page. The more standardized ways that people can communicate, the better their chances of survival.

And you can quote me on that, in any number of forms.

-Ted

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