The Sapir-Whorf hypothesis is that language shapes thought. One version of the idea is that language determines thought, and the other that it influences thought. It’s easy to see how one could make a case for either version.
Although linguistic determinism isn’t widely accepted in a strict sense, there’s an intrinsic logic there that I find hard to completely discount. Studies have shown that language changes perception—and perception (it seems to me) is a significant part of thought. The weaker version of the hypothesis, that language only influences thought, seems downright obvious to me. I’ve written about that before.
Hi, My Name Is…
In that context, I noticed something interesting. It started with a Welsh lesson, as so much of my language musing does lately. I started comparing the “101” phrases I’ve learned for self-introduction in various languages, and thinking about their literal-ninny translations. I’m not a linguist, and not a cognitive scientist, so this is just an observation I want to share. I’ve enjoyed wondering about the possible effects (if any) of how we offer our own names.
I want to insert another caveat—because there’s an obvious counterpoint here that might seem to undermine the whole point of my musing, so I want to get it out of the way. I know for sure that in English, French, and German there are many accepted phrases for introducing yourself, and that’s probably the case in Welsh though I haven’t learned it yet. These examples from other languages sparked a line of thought that is only about the impact of the syntax used in these phrases in English, triggered by my language-learning experience.
So, within that limit, here’s what I found so interesting.
English: I’m Amanda
In the English example, which sounds like the “default” to me (though I think I also say “My name is Amanda” sometimes), the emphasis seems to be on I. The leading element here is my sense of self, my internal identity.
Welsh: Amanda dw i. (also I am Amanda, only in reverse order)
The Welsh syntax is what started the train of thought. The literal translation of the phrase (which would be Amanda am I) isn’t “real,” it’s just because Welsh grammar differs from English. That’s exactly what interested me. Because of the way Welsh is structured, the emphasis is on the external identity—the label—but still in relation to an intrinsic facet of self. I am.
So while the emphasis shifts because of the syntax, in both those two examples, Amanda = Me.
French: Je m’appelle Amanda. (I call myself Amanda)
In the third variant, the emphasis shifts to the name, but the core self is still the central idea. In this case, Amanda doesn’t define me, but it is the label that I have adopted for myself for others to use. (How gracious.)
German: Ich heiße Amanda. (I’m called Amanda)
And finally, I am called Amanda puts the emphasis squarely on how others think of me. It says nothing about who I am or how I see myself, only stating the external fact that other people have a name for me.
Some other variations bring their own nuances. “You can call me Amanda” throws in the idea of permission. “My friends call me Amanda” would seem to raise the question of whether the new acquaintance has the right status to also use that name. And “My name is Amanda” seems to me to have a stronger sense of ownership of the label, as if it is not actually me (in the way that I am Amanda connotes) but it is a personal possession that I choose to share.
It says something
Regardless of the language used, isn’t it intriguing that there is such nuance in the way we introduce ourselves? It’s a little glimpse of personality and psychology, revealed in something so ordinary that we don’t think about it.
It’s an interesting detail to consider for writing characters. The reader might not notice it, but it could convey something profound about the individual’s state of mind, social confidence, or self-assurance.
And it makes me wonder: how is it that a name can be “right” or “wrong” for someone, unless a name is an intrinsic part of who we are? I think anyone who has ever named a child, pet, or character knows what an effort it can be to find the name that feels right. We associate names with traits, whether we realize it or not, to the point where it makes sense to other people when someone says, “I keep wanting to call him Bob” or “Oh, Diana totally suits her!”
Added together, it seems to me that “I am Amanda” is a much more telling statement than “my name is Amanda.” After all, the Deep Thoughts question is “Who am I?” Not “What’s my name?”
Now I’ll probably start overthinking next time I’m faced with a name tag and a Sharpie.
