The Evolution of Language Games

Introduction

The concept of the language game is designed to be fluid. Language is a tool, an instrument even, for conveying information to others. The problem comes in when our linguistic ancestors had to find a way to transport mental intentions in a way that would be understood by others. Since humans have the ability to form complex sounds with our mouths and ears to hear them, these tools end up being good vehicles to work with. But how simple utterances develop, over time, into complex languages—eventually they become complex enough to codify them into a written language as well as spoken—must rely on an evolutionary process. This is due to the fact that there is no natural language game. A language game is something arbitrary and conventional, yet based upon the way we use our body to communicate. The use of gestures and other forms of simple non-verbal expression develop until the grammar of our more complex language games in the form of verbal communication. Thinking is merely a later evolutionary step of language games based upon the same process as gestures. Thus the evolution of language games began with simple gestures and has evolved into a more complex game involving creative thought.

Meaning and the language game

When Wittgenstein asks us to look for the use rather than the meaning, he is not asking us to prefer the concept of use to meaning. Rather, he is inviting us to follow a different method of analysis, one that will cure us of a fundamental philosophical ailment. The significant word in the statement “Don’t look for the meaning, look for the use” is not ‘meaning’ nor is it ‘use.’ Rather, the significant term is look. The emphasis is that instead of looking for meaning we should look for the use, and through this method will we be able to understand what language means. The concept of meaning is not the problem, because words are given meaning. More precisely, words are pictured to have meaning, thus we are able to use them as if they meant something.[1] The problem is that by emphasizing meaning—as philosophical linguistics has done (consider ‘morphemes’)—a metaphysical outlook is created that must ask what the essence of meaning is; what does it mean to mean? Wittgenstein might say that this is nonsense. Words mean in the same way that subjects intend. We can no more mean meaning than we can will willing.[2]

The reason that Wittgenstein wants us to begin our analysis with the use rather than meaning is that he wants us to understand that how a sign or name is used will determine its meaning. Meaning is a derivative of use. For Wittgenstein, a “meaning” comes in a flash, and if “the meaning has occurred to you, now you know it, and the knowing began when it occurred to you.”[3] This implies that meaning is some kind of mental activity, something that is not overtly observable except through its outward expression. A little later on, Wittgenstein tells us that we can know a person’s state of mind by observing their behavior:

Then psychology treats of behavior, not of the mind? … “I noticed that he was out of humour.” Is this a report about his behavior or his state of mind? … Both; not side-by-side, however, but about the one via the other.[4]

And just a little later, he continues this thought by saying that there is a relation: “physical object—sense impressions. Here we have two different language games and a complicated relation between them.”[5] Wittgenstein is not always easy to quote because he seems to never say explicitly what he means, but shows his idea through examples, ironic interlopers, and so forth—he shows us what he wants us to get “in a flash” of meaning. And this is essentially the point. Language games “shew”[6] us the meaning, and we understand it in the same way as we understand the intention of a gesture. The gesture acts as a more directly expressed form of a sign, and is the model that words—written or spoken—are based upon. Gestures literally show our intention; words are derived from these gestures.

But what exactly are these “language games”? Wittgenstein talks of them in great breadth yet in little depth. The concept itself seems to be a derivative of concepts left over from the Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus with some revision. The language game and “logical space” differ in that logical space is static while the language game is dynamic. This is one of the significant shifts from the Tractatus to the Philosophical Investigations. In the Tractatus, Wittgenstein uses picture theory to describe how names refer to things, but this idea was replaced with the concept of the language game. Despite this, the imagery within the Tractatus might still be of use to us. In the Tractatus, Wittgenstein says the following:

[3.4] The proposition determines a place in logical space: the existence of this logical space is guaranteed by the existence of the constituent parts alone . . . [3.42] Although a proposition may only determine one place in logical space, the whole logical space must already be given it.

The language game works along comparable lines. A name or sign determines a place within the language game, which is guaranteed by the existence of its parts, being the names used by users of the language game. What is significantly different here is that while logical space is already given (no doubt Wittgenstein had Cartesian-geometrical space in mind here), the “space” of the language game is neither given nor fixed. The language game works upon an organic model of flux, growth, decay, etc. Terms can be introduced into the language game as well as fall out of favor; much like Wittgenstein’s ancient city, some roads may become unused, others will have heavier traffic.[7] The dynamism of the language game allows for the complexity of language, which is in turn responsible for the evolutionary process at issue here as well as, in part, the complexity in general human interactions.

The Evolutionary Process

I Gestures to words.

This issue about the evolution of language games is not a historical-linguistic speculation because it is not the particular events in the development that are important. Describing this evolution is not meant to show the actual evolution per se. Instead it is intended to show how the language games we use today are gesture-founded. I can communicate that I want a slab or pillar of stone over there without having to conceive of a meaning for “stone,” “pillar,” or “slab.” All I have to do is point to the slab, and perhaps make some other hand motions that express a desire to have them here. The grammar of language works along the same principles, as Wittgenstein describes for us in the opening sections of the Philosophical Investigations.[8] Non-verbal communication is a more basic kind of language game, and is a key to understanding verbal language. Before we have words to put in context, there must be a contextual basis on which words can rest. Non-verbal communication is the contextual basis that much of verbal language utilizes in order for us to understand what terms mean.

The development of a language game from nothing is a complex process. Imagine having no language, never having had language. If, in this circumstance, you find yourself in a situation where communication is useful, how do you begin? Think about how we communicate without even trying to, that is, through “body-language.” The way people carry themselves; how they walk, the expression of their face, etc are all powerful indicators of everything from mood to level of self-confidence. The tones of our voice, our intonation, etc are all indicators of intention, much more than the actual words. These gesture-based language games, the non-verbal queues we give, are probably the best place to start in analyzing the use we are looking for.

What is disgust? Can’t you imagine someone’s face cringing, the utterance of that “noise of disgust?” (“ugh”, “yuck,” etc). The way that we ever get to establish the context of the sign ‘disgust’ with the experience of disgust is by using the sign in context with this face-cringing image and the noise that someone might make will experiencing disgust. Imaging someone saying “that is disgusting” while grinning widely, while the words are still able to communicate a meaning after we know what ‘disgust’ means, we might have trouble learning what the word “disgusting” actually means if we always were presented with this sign with a grin—we might think it meant “happy,” “good,” etc.

But since we generally cringe our face when expressing disgust, we are much more able to understand what is meant by the words themselves. The words actually begin to be associated with the facial expression and its associated sensation. Eventually, the sign itself begins to sound ‘disgusting,’ and we might even pronounce the word with a hint of that “noise of disgust” (“disgusting-ugh!”). Whether these non-verbal expressions are themselves a convention or whether they are determined based upon our physiology is a question for another study, but it does seem clear that people tend to have similar reactions to similar stimuli. It is this similarity of body-language that acts as a basis for our use of terms such as “disgusting.”

Intentional or not, someone limping has a use in communicating that they are in pain.[9] If we have ever experienced pain anywhere, we know that the part of our body that hurts becomes limited in strength and so forth, causing us to limp (if it is a leg, foot, or ankle). This information is something that we can observe through sense-data, it shows us that that person is in pain. It is based upon this that the person can then say “I am now experiencing pain.” “Pain” refers to the state of their phenomenological status, their “kinaesthetic sensations,”[10] which we can infer based upon the body-language they are displaying and associating these kinds of movements and noises that we make ourselves while in pain

What this line of argument is trying to show us is that the state of affairs—being in pain—is expressed by the statement “I am now experiencing pain” in the same way that seeing someone limp across the room expresses this idea. The statement acts like a picture,[11] and the picture would have to depict the appropriate gestures. The indicators in the verbal expression communicate this meaning not because the words actually mean anything in themselves, but because we learn to associate the use of the signs with non-verbal queues in context. The grammatical rules or logic to the verbal expression are based upon the rules of time and space that we perceive in. That is, many statements that we utter are construed in the same way that we see them. I (the speaker) am now (at the time of speaking) experiencing (private sensations which we can sympathize with) pain (unpleasant feeling expressed in a show of limping, cradling of the injured body part, groaning, etc). The phrase “I am now experiencing pain” is structured the same way as a picture of this expressed state of affairs would look. That is, the grammar is structurally based upon the gestures that accompany the event.

II Meta-language; context and thought.

At this point we have mapped out how gestures act as the basis for how we use words, but language is not all about gesturing for things that we want or situations we are in. We can talk about things that don’t have any visible or tangible referent. We can talk about language—meta-language—and so forth. This is a further step in the evolutionary process, the ability to talk about words and the like. Instead of looking for how signs attach to objects, a language game functions based upon how the sign attaches to other signs—how they interconnect into a kind of nexus of use. This nexus is one useful model for the language game, and is similar to the concept of “Logical Space” in the Tractatus as described above.

Through an interconnected nexus of use, words can support each other in relationships that help solidify the meaning in relationship to other words. In short, use determines meaning through context. When a term is introduced into a group of language users, it must be given a context in order to be understood. If I say, “I’m really enjoying the party, and the food is just flambastic,” I have put a new word in a context. However, at this point you only know that the word is an adjective. In order to know what kind of adjective this new word is, you will have to either ask me to define it (by comparing it to synonyms—in other words putting it in relationships with other uses) or by waiting for me to use it again, perhaps clarifying the use of “flambastic.”

However, you already get a sense of how I meant “flambastic” in context of my pleasure with the party. It seems reasonable to assume that I meant ‘good’ or maybe even ‘delicious’ or ‘great’ based upon the fact that I have conveyed pleasure with the party, of which the food is a part. Further use of the term will help clarify a more appropriate synonym, and will ultimately help you understand its meaning “in a flash,” after which you know its meaning for further use. But if I were to use the term later in an apparently different context (“This is the worst party I’ve been to in years, and the food is flambastic”) a cloud of ambiguity might hover over the term.

This is essentially how we learn what most words mean, through this process of observing (looking!) how it is used. Words that we use regularly, such as ‘delicious,’ ‘disgusting,’ etc already have been put in context. We know that they are both adjectives and we know what a person is communicating when using them. If I say “this cake is delicious” then another user of the English language understands that I like the taste of this cake, possibly very much. I associate liking of a particular food with the pleasure I have while eating it, because this is the context that the word is used. Thus, looking for the use could also be looking for the context in which names are used. Learning a language is based upon, in part, our ability to associate certain sounds or scratch-marks on paper with feelings, shapes, colors—in other words with certain kinds of sense-data. If you want to learn a new language, say Spanish, and you notice that many times in the presence of a user of Spanish who is in some way pointing to or indicating a certain color (and not the same object, hence we might think he is indicating the object, not the color) while saying “verde,” it is safe to assume that that color is called “verde,” and so on.

Language games evolve by establishing contexts. Establishing the context of a word is dependent upon how we use it. But the survival of a word or its extinction will depend upon the dynamics within the entire language game. To use a loose analogy, the language game is an environment and the words utilized are the many species in the ecosystem. If the term finds a use within the language game, then it will survive. Some words will find great use, such as “the” or “and.” Other terms, such as “epistemology,” or “dendrochronology” will survive only in certain environments. It is not that these terms cannot be used in all language games; any term can be used, potentially, in any language game. A term like ‘dendrochronology’ would just have less use in the language game of a baseball player than someone studying archaeology or possibly forestry, and is thus less likely to be established in the context of baseball. In this sense, a language game is not a lexicon. A language game might even be better defined as a context itself, which is to say that when we enter a situation, we enter a certain context that requires the use of the rules of a particular language game and the terms that tend to be useful in it.

When verbal language has been contextualized, it allows another evolutionary step in communication. Verbal language expresses intentional states, feelings, spatial and temporal orientation, etc. But after the signs have been created and put in context, they acquire a sense or a meaning to them. That is, through association with sense-data the signs themselves become objects of reflection, and we can begin to ask philosophical questions about them. Once we have the words “I am now experiencing pain” put in context of a real situation being described, we have the terms themselves for general use. We understand how they are used, so we are able to use them creatively in other ways. However, there is a limit to how we can mix up these words in order to make sense and sometimes the line is fuzzy. For example, “now pain am” does not seem to express anything that we can understand clearly, but “I am pain” is understandable. And while “I am pain” is understandable, what could we possibly mean by this statement? Now the philosopher jumps in and says that I, that is, my conscious self, while experiencing some phenomenological state called “pain” am that pain, or some other interpretation. It is at this stage that the evolution of language games becomes much more complex. Language is based upon an expression of events through the body but has evolved into a mechanism that can create new phrases that allow us to conceive of new ways of understanding our condition in the world.

Another way to describe this latest evolutionary step is to say that we are now able to generalize or abstract certain concepts based on meanings of words. The state of affairs which we express through body-language is a primitive language game with rules that we come to understand. When we begin to associate sounds or scratch-marks on paper with certain states of affairs we start to understand what they are used for, hence we give them meaning. Once we understand the use of names or signs, we can use them to communicate new ideas. Now we are thinking creatively. With this ability to think creatively we are now able to use language for much more than referring to the world. Now we are able to utilize philosophical methods and ask complex questions about universals, metaphysics, and the like. This is a great potential with which we must exercise responsibility because we should avoid creating philosophical problems by misusing words or creating unnecessary relationships in the world via making new words. This is achieved by understand where the meaning of words came from; use.

Conclusion

Based upon how our bodies tend to move in response to our sensations, moods, etc we communicate much to others through non-verbal communication. These gestures are structured and understood based upon a kind of logic or grammar that allows us to intentionally communicate ideas with them. Based on this same grammatical set of rules, we are able to utilize our ability to manipulate and hear sounds in order to make sounds and scratch-marks on paper gesture to one another in more complex ways. Once gestures, sounds, and written words are understood to “mean” something which can be thought about, we can manipulate these meaning mentally in a way that allows us to initiate creative thinking as well as create new words for things that we cannot refer to via gesturing; words such as “justice,” “beauty,” etc.

Thinking is a more recent evolutionary development of the language game. But since language is based on what we can observe—gestures and the like—and thinking has the ability to conceive of things that do not necessarily exist, we are able to think of things that have no necessary referent in the real world. Thus, we have to be more careful with this ability to think creatively so we don’t get stuck in philosophical puzzles based on nonsense. If we had to think to understand language then thinking could not have developed out of more primitive language games. Thus, don’t think, but look. And whereof one cannot gesture, perhaps one should remain motionless. If not, be careful where you step.

[1] Cf. Philosophical Investigations, II, vii, where Wittgenstein compares the mind giving words meaning as a carbon atom in benzene lies in the corner of “a hexagon.” In the same way that this model of representing molecules is a picture, so is the meaning of words. I will refer to this relationship as the “meaning” of words for the remainder of this essay, in the interest of not interrupting the flow of the discussion.

[6] This antiquated variation of “show” is used throughout G.E.M. Anscombe’s translation

[7] Cf. Philosophical Investigations, I, §18.

[9] Cf. Philosophical Investigations, II, v for a similar example.

[11] Cf. Philosophical Investigations, II, vii