Language and Linguistics
Science fiction is a genre that brings together different populations and cultures. A basic requirement of any such narrative is that these people communicate - or that the consequences of failures in communication are explored. In much of science fiction, devices such as Star Trek’s Universal Communicator, Doctor Who’s TARDIS telepathic circuits or The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy’s Babel Fish are used to bypass the problem. However other fiction confronts it directly. Indeed, the genre has repeatedly explored the idea that the way we describe the world affects the way we perceive it - language and linguistics are fundamental to our worldview.
Talented Translators
Science fiction has long had a clear interest in those with an innate ability to master language, whether or not they have had formal training. The short story “Shall we have a little talk?” by Robert Scheckley (Galaxy magazine, October 1965) describes a first contact situation, in which a single human, Jackson, is sent as a ‘Contactor’ to a new planet, Na.
“Jackson, like all the other Contactors, was a polyglot of singular capabilities. As basic equipment, he had an eidetic memory and an extremely discriminating ear. More important, he possessed a startling aptitude for language and an uncanny intuition for meaning. When Jackson came up against an incomprehensible tongue, he picked out, quickly and unerringly, the significant units, the fundamental building blocks of the language. Quite without effort he sorted vocalizations into cognitive, volitional and emotional aspects of speech. Grammatical elements presented themselves at once to his practiced ear. Affixes and suffixes were no trouble: word sequence, pitch and reduplication were no sweat. He didn’t know much about the science of linguistics, but he didn’t need to know. Jackson was a natural.”
This is a necessary skill in the story since Jackson’s sole task is to ingratiate himself, learn the language and then legally purchase land and property on the new world, as part of Earth’s strategy for expansion. However he is first frustrated and then driven to the edge of insanity when the language spoken on Na proves to change not only its vocabulary but also its fundamental character with the rapidity of fast fashion. The initially self-congratulatory character ends up withdrawing in confusion and dismay.
Also showing an intrinsic gift for languages, but in a still darker context is The Linguist (short story, written by Tak Hallus, in Galaxy, February 1975). Here Eberly is also a gifted linguist, able to learn languages in a matter of weeks. This is useful for his boss, who illegally harvests the language knowledge on a regular basis and sells the ‘engrams’ to lazy students, business-people and others who don’t have the time, aptitude or inclination to learn themselves. While Eberly is usually a willing participant in this process, the story revolves around an armed stand-off which occurs when Eberly is determined - absolutely determined - to finish reading Don Quixote in the original Spanish this time before the knowledge of the language is taken from him. When his boss, Plagio, suggests he read it next time, he leaves no doubt about how unimpressed he is:
“You said the same thing last time and the time before that. It’s no go. You’ll never let me finish. Next time will be exactly like this time. As soon as I can read it, you’ll pick my brain. I won’t even know how to say buenos dias."
“Read it in translation.”
Infuriated by Plagio’s aesthetic insensitivity, Eberly muttered, “Carumba,” and squeezed off three rounds. His ears rang from the explosions.
“Eberly, what was that for?”
“Because it’s never the same in translation, you philistine!”
By the end of the story, it’s unclear what Eberly’s rebellion has achieved. The idea that memory engrams can be extracted and given to someone else also appears unlikely, given that memory storage likely has many characteristics fundamentally different between individuals. The story nonetheless makes the point that a full understanding of a culture is best accomplished by fully engaging with the language that shapes and communicates that culture.
A different form of innate ability is hypothesized in Rough Translation by Jean M Janis (short story, Galaxy, Dec 1954). In this story, the latest linguist in a string to make the attempt struggles to understand a man who has returned from Mars speaking random words. There is clearly knowledge and communication, but no understanding. Many words sound familiar, and the linguist realises there’s a connection with the baby talk of young children. An interview with his own young son results in a revelation regarding the origin of humanity and its connection to Mars… and also leaves the linguist himself speaking apparent nonsense words and unable to communicate in conventional language [1]. He now has knowledge and understanding but no communication.
Travelling Translators
Not everyone can be an innate linguistic genius. The pulp magazine stories of the 1950s and 60s routinely included exploring starships, in which a linguist was an integral part of the crew - although they often had no more than a few lines to say, or casually programmed an instant communications device. However in a few cases, the engagement with more formal linguistics is discussed in more detail.
The perils of misinterpreting alien languages are explored in the short story “Not So Certain” by David Masson (New Worlds, July 1967). Here a human exploration ship visits the Shm’qh and make efforts to learn their language, which uses vowel sounds in place of intonations to indicate emotional context or overtones. Many of these are too subtle for the human crew to hear and there are ample examples of confusions - most of which involve the aliens saying “no” at unexpected times. Eventually, the captain is directed from the translation team to the one member of the crew who is actually studying the language for its own sake.
“The linguistician had been added to the expedition almost as a late afterthought, together with a great deal of equipment which had caused some bad language among those who were working out loads and logistics.”
The captain’s lengthy conversation with this ‘linguistician’, Jimmy Anson, is full of phrases such as
“Now, this ph-sound turns out to be a compound of two wh-phonemes. I happen to have succeeded in dissecting these two words, so to speak. The first, which means, roughly, ‘No’, is a kind of agglutination of esh, which means ‘indeed’, ‘in fact’, or something like that; nye, which means ‘not’, or ‘negative’; and ewh, which means ‘thus’, or ‘so’, or ‘in that way’. So their ‘No’ means, etymologically, ‘Indeed not so’.”
It’s perhaps no surprise then that no one has consulted him before and realised their question as to whether or not they’ll be able to transport samples to Earth is being met with a wary “perhaps” rather than a firm “no”.
Of course, the chance of a full language being exchanged within the first few minutes, hours or even weeks of contact is slim. At best, most early contacts with a new language are likely to result in creation of a pidgin - a simplified hybrid language formed as a result of mingling after first contact [2]. An excellent demonstration of this, and of its impact, can be found in the novella Collision by James Tiptree Jr (Asimov’s, May 1986). Here a human Federation exploration ship crosses a gulf between our Galaxy's spiral arms, and discovers a large multi-planet civilisation on the other side - a civilisation that is already experiencing hostile contact with non-aligned humans on a distant border. Only the efforts of two linguists - one on the human crew and one amongst the alien Ziello - have a chance of averting a war between galactic empires.
The narrative includes speeches deliberately written using a simple set of vocabulary which was included in a first contact teaching kit. This use of pidgin was applauded by a student of linguistics in a letter to the magazine - but it is an unfortunate fact that many science fiction dramas would struggle to show character depth when limited to vocabulary like “We no want fight.”
Descending from the tradition of spaceships with linguists in SF is the Star Trek universe, which has engaged with language and linguistics on a number of occasions. As mentioned above, the majority of Star Trek scenarios make use of a computer-based Universal Translator. However the prequel series Star Trek Enterprise (TV, 2001-2005) explored aspects of the Star Trek universe during its development - including the translator.
Amongst the crew of NX-01 USS Enterprise is linguist Hoshi Sato. Ensign Sato is canonically able to speak more than forty languages, and is a trained exo-linguist. Her skills are essential in the pilot episode, “Broken Bow”, where she is the only one able to speak to a Klingon fugitive, as well as in several other alien encounters during the series - notably with the Xindi. While she adapts well, early episodes such as “Flight or Fight” (2001) explore her insecurity and dilemma over whether exploration or an academic position is her calling. Her primary role on the Enterprise is to gather information for, programme and continue to develop the universal translator that will be taken so for granted in chronologically-later series. At times, though, she is called upon to bypass the still-immature device and rely on her own trained instinct for language construction and communication. A similar role is played by the young cadet Nyota Uhura in Star Trek: Strange New Worlds (TV series, 2022-present) - as a speaker of 37 languages and a trained linguist before her arrival on the NCC-1701 USS Enterprise, she is sometimes put into situations in which the universal translator is unavailable and at least one episode hinges on her developing a rapid and instinctual understanding.
However even when mature, the universal translator is by no means perfect. Each series gives examples of cases where communication is initially impossible. A notable example is “Darmok”, a 1991 episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation (TV, 1987-1994). The universal translator is able to translate the words of the Tamarian species, but not their meaning - all interactions between individuals are mediated by brief historical and cultural allusions - as in “Darmok and Jalad at Tanabra” meaning a wish for, or expectation of, cooperation. The words and proper nouns do nothing to communicate the vast background of knowledge, emotion and perception that is needed for a conversation. Indeed, it is not until shared experience provides context that rudimentary communications is established.
While linguists and commentators have discussed the plausibility of a language structured in this way - and whether it is better interpreted as a form of logic problem - Star Trek: The Next Generation in general showed a strong engagement with the principles of linguistics. This appears most prominently in the form of the Klingon language. A full and functional language was developed over a range of productions, from Star Trek: The Motion Picture (1979) onwards, originating in a few phrases devised by actor James Doohan. However from 1984 onwards, the basic information was fully developed and regulated by linguist Marc Okrand as a coherent artificial language. All subsequent appearances of Klingons have communicated in this language, and Klingon dictionaries and language courses exist, together with a full alphabet and grammar. Indeed, plays and operas have been staged entirely in Klingon, and translations include William Shakespeare’s Hamlet [3]. Importantly, many concepts and words translate into militaristic terms appropriate for a warrior society, and so the act of translation involves engaging with the Klingon paradigm for the world, as well as literal word-for-word substitution.
Coherent, professionally-constructed artificial alien languages have appeared elsewhere in science fiction, including that of the Na’vi in the Avatar movies (feature films, 2009, 2022, 2025). The use of the language acts both as a tool for world-building and allows different worldviews to be represented aurally. In fact, in the Encyclopedia of Science Fiction [4] notes that since Tolkein’s fantasy epic The Lord of the Rings was constructed around a core of constructed languages, scientifically and logically extrapolated from the understanding of linguistics, it could in some ways also be considered science fictional.
Transformative Translators
Language expresses thought, but may also influence it. The theory of linguistic relativity, or Saphir-Whorf hypothesis, suggests that the structure and use of language not only reflects worldview but also helps to shape or modify it.
In Babel-17 (novel, 1967), Samuel R Delany explores the power of language to influence its users. The book’s central character, Rydra Wong, is a galaxy-famous poet with a gift for languages. She also has a knack of reading the body language of those around her to an extent that verges on telepathy. In a galaxy torn by war between humanity and “the Invaders”, she is recruited to decode some apparent nonsense transmissions codenamed Babel-17, whose broadcasts have coincided with sabotage and destruction. She rapidly realises that this isn’t a code or cypher but rather a language, which gradually demonstrates its power to modify her own perceptions when she thinks in it:
“It was not only a language, she understood now, but a flexible matrix of analytic possibilities where the same ‘word’ defined the stresses in a webbing of medical bandage, or a defensive grid of spaceships. What would it do with the tensions and yearnings in a human face? Perhaps the flicker of eyelids and fingers would become mathematics, without meaning.”
While Rydra finds her own behaviour influenced by an ability to think in Babel-17, she also uncovers a mysterious amnesiac who shares one the language’s most unusual features: neither has a conception of the words ‘you’ or ‘I’. This fundamentally changes the way native speakers of this language can view the world. In fact, in this case, Babel-17 proves to be not only a tool for self-expansion but also a weapon - one that can be modified and turned back against its originators.
A more deliberate use of language to change mindset was described earlier in the novel The Languages of Pao by Jack Vance (1958). Vance imagined a future in which the world of Pao has an unambitious, non-aggressive human population, open to domination by warriors and merchants from elsewhere. The ruler of the planet - a usurper - turns to the technologically-enhanced intellects of another world, Breakness, for weapons or advice on training warriors. The Breakness ‘wizard’ Lord Palafox instead notes that:
“Paonese is a passive, dispassionate language. It presents the world in two dimensions, without tension. A people speaking Paonese, theoretically, ought to be docile, passive, without strong personality development - in fact, exactly as the Paonese people are.”
He dictates that new population centres should be built that speak three entirely new constructed languages: Valiant, Cogitant and Technicant, designed to promote a mindset appropriate to warriors, administrators and merchant-innovators respectively.
“Such influences will pervade each of the languages. Naturally they will not act with equal force upon each individual but the mass action must be decisive.”
In fact, it’s hard to distinguish between the impact of language and that of upbringing, since the children raised as native speakers of the new languages are necessarily confined in alcoves with a distinct culture, training and expectations. In either case, the innovation, while initially successful in developing new aptitudes amongst the Paonese, is the source of division and conflict. A further synthesis, of both culture and language, is required before a new status quo is established.
A different but equally conscious and focused take on the power of linguistics in science fiction can be found in the 1984 novel Native Tongue by Suzette Haden Elgin. This imagines a dystopian future in which the civil rights of women are repealed, and they are reduced to legal minors, unable to own property, work or vote, due to their supposed mental inferiority. In this world, it is vital to open communications with alien races, but it’s well established that only infants are capable of truly learning and understanding a language. As a result, a group of 13 family lines known as the Linguists raise their children in an unrelenting discipline that revolves around learning many languages, including one or more alien languages that they are exposed to from birth, and in which they become native speakers [5]. The small children also learn from one another, and laugh with their caretakers over the peculiarities of their languages.
Meanwhile the women of their households, and particularly the mature women who live in the Barren House, are in the process of devising a language, Láadan, which will not only be exclusive to women, but also include encodings (word structures) which convey the concepts most important to those women but hitherto lacking from human language. By the end of the book, this language is in common use, and the men - baffled by a new paradigm in which they are no longer the primary focus of women’s attention - decide to build separate houses so that the genders can live apart, which suits everyone perfectly.
The premise is not without its flaws - both in terms of the social structure described and the heteronormative (i.e. only strongly and stereotypically masculine and feminine perspectives, with no recognition of those who don’t fit this over-simplistic division) assumptions that underlie it. The ending feels rather abrupt and implausible. However it is interesting for its assertion that fluency in a language cannot be attained much past infancy. It champions the idea that changing the way thoughts are articulated can change reality, and can certainly have a profound effect on those exposed to the viewpoint. Indeed, a subplot involves a group of government researchers who are attempting to expose infants (either ‘volunteered’ by their parents or test-tube grown) to truly alien mindsets, rather than the humanoid aliens that the Linguists restrict their efforts to. The results are invariably fatal - the perceptions of the aliens are so different to those of humans that they lead to central nervous system damage.
In the novel, the acquisition of their new language, and its use by girls and women, was sufficiently absorbing to completely change the mindset of human females into apparently passive, patient listeners and help-mates, to the extent that the disgusted men of the Linguist Lines declare ‘women’ as such extinct, finding their reformed partners little more than robotic black holes who provide no emotional feedback or support. While we see relatively little of Láadan in the novel, Suzette Elgin had a PhD in linguistics, and separately published materials on this created language. As Pat Cadigan noted in her 2019 introduction to the Gollancz SF Masterworks edition of Native Tongue,
“Dr Elgin understood that language was more than just vocabulary and syntax. Language could be weaponized, used not to dominate but to maintain dominance and oppression. It could also be a tool for inspiration and rebellion. When people are subjugated, they find ways to hide their activities in plain sight and tell each other about them without tipping off the dominant authority. They develop a secret language.”
While this is certainly true, it is difficult to imagine any language becoming so all absorbing that one hundred percent of women find that communicating in it offsets their domestic and societal role of servitude [6].
The premise that absorbing an alien language can change human perceptions in profound ways has a long history in science fiction. Robert A Heinlein made use of the idea in his influential Stranger in a Strange Land (novel, 1961). This described the return to Earth of Valentine Michael Smith, a human infant raised by native Martians after a colonisation attempt failed. As well as bringing his very different philosophy to Earth, Smith begins to teach a select group the Martian language. The effect of this on the human brain is to open it to a more profound insight and a range of mental gifts, including “grokking” (coming to a true understanding of) others.
By contrast, in the 2016 feature film Arrival (dir. Villeneuve. Based on the 1998 novella Story of Your Life by Ted Chiang), linguist Louise Banks is recruited as part of the team chosen to attempt contact with the Heptapods, who have arrived on Earth and are attempting to communicate despite mutual incomprehension. Banks discovers that the Heptapods’ written language is palindromic and written in circular forms. However as she begins to become proficient in it, her perception of time begins to change - she begins to see the future as well as the past, recognising both as part of the same cyclic reality. The story asks questions about free will and the ability to act upon or decide the future. However it also shows how language can encode and influence a worldview.
Even if their language does not shape the worldview of aliens or their translators, it can certainly reflect the profoundly different way species view reality. An extreme example of creating translators to act as a bridge between fundamentally incompatible cultures can be found in Ann Leckie’s Imperial Radch universe. Here a wide-spread human empire has an uneasy relationship with the alien Presger. In the past, the Presger have demonstrated both the ability and the willingness to ravage human spacecraft and settlements, consuming them without mercy. However at some point, the Presger decide to recognise that humans are a Significant Species and make a treaty with them. For this purpose, they create a subspecies of Translators who appear human, and are built largely from human DNA, but have clear and distinct differences that appear to originate from the Presgar. Although they were introduced in the Ancillary Justice trilogy (novels, 2013-2015), these differences are explored most thoroughly in the stand-alone novel Translation State (2023); despite appearing outwardly human, the Presger Translators appear to share the Presger’s ravenous blood-thirst and taste for violence as juveniles, and, on maturing, must merge with another individual or die. The novel follows two Presger Translator juveniles, one of whom has been raised as entirely human and whose legal status is unclear.
While we never see the Translators actually working as linguists - all diplomacy between species takes place in the Radchii language - they serve a much more ambiguous role as a cultural bridge between the thoroughly alien and terrifyingly mysterious Presger and the more familiar human (and allied alien) mindset.
Language and Linguistics
The languages of science fiction have been and continue to be studied in detail by dedicated academics. Similarly the connection between language and worldview is an important element of linguist and anthropological study, and is central to ongoing efforts to secure and communicate indigenous culture in many countries - just as the forbidding of language was central to efforts to suppress those cultures in the past.
The importance of language has also been recognised within the science fiction community. Articles such as How to Learn Martian by american linguist Charles F Hockett of Cornell University (Astounding, May 1955) appeared in science fiction magazines. This article lays out some of the principles and pitfalls of languages, in the context of an imagined encounter between a linguist and Martians. One thing Hockett points out is that it would not be fast:
In a day or so, a well-trained Earth linguist, working with a completely new language, can get the cultural wax out of his ears and begin to hear something that sounds like it might really be a language. Before that, everything is a mumbling buzz. In another ten or so days of hard work, the linguist can get perhaps ninety per cent of what counts in the sound-making and sound-recognizing habits of the language, though his own hearing may not yet be too well trained for the new system. In another hundred days he can get perhaps ninety per cent of the remainder. Sometimes it is years before he gets it all.
However, as many texts - including several of the examples above, and articles like Willy Ley’s One Planet, One Language (in factual feature For Your Information, Galaxy, Feb 1960) - point out, this would only be a small fraction of the task; most species will have thousands of languages rather than a single dominant one.
The relationship between science fiction and linguistics has also been two-way. In the same way that physical scientists have done, experts in the science of linguistics have used science fiction as a teaching aid in introducing concepts to non-expert student audiences. An interesting example was described by Barbara Wheatley in the journal Extrapolation (v.20, n.3, p.205, 1979) which discussed an undergraduate course in which use of languages (including invented languages) were considered in a range of science fictional texts. As Wheatley describes:
Appropriate linguistic questions were raised about each work: who uses language in the world/ time of this story - humans? animals? computers? aliens? How does language function in this world? Is it simply a means of communication, or is it a tool for controlling thought or external reality? Is the language similar to the human languages of today? If not, how is it different, and why? And finally, if this world/time represents a future development of the human race, do the linguistic aspects of the story seem plausible? How could this situation develop from the situation in the world as we know it today?
These questions are as relevant to understanding the science fiction as they are the languages used in it, and the culture in which it is used. Substitute language for any other innovation or technology and they could apply to science fictional representation of any of the physical sciences. Linguistic analyses continue to be undertaken into contemporary science fiction - and have become increasingly recognised in the communication and interpretation of all forms of science. As I discussed in the context of the use of mathematics as a universal language, there is a strong argument that language reflects worldview and worldview is shaped by perception. Perception and worldview collectively affect interpretation, such that different individuals presented with the same facts can reach different conclusions resulting from them.
Language has a power that not just politicians, but advertisers, science communicators and many others recognise. If alien life exists in the Universe, or if humanity ever becomes a multiplanet species, language will be an essential element in mediating interactions between societies and shaping their conceptions of one another - as well as of themselves.
“Language and Linguistics in Science Fiction”, Elizabeth Stanway, Cosmic Stories blog. 14th June 2025.
Notes:
[1] For more stories where humans have a Martian origin see my earlier blog entry on the topic. [Return to text]
[2] As an interesting aside, it is likely that the English language lost its grammatical gender as a result of a simplified pidgin formed between Anglo-Saxon Old English, viking Norse and Norman French, all of which had conflicting grammar, over the centuries either side of the Norman Invasion of 1066. [Return to text]
[3] As I learned from wikipedia, and confirmed on the BBC News website, a Welsh government answer to a query regarding UFO records was also published in Klingon - which amuses me enormously. [Return to text]
[4] The Encyclopedia of Science Fiction article on Linguistics is worth reading and gives further interesting examples. [Return to text]
[5] Anne McCaffrey’s The Tower and the Hive series (novels, 1990-1995) also touches on this idea of infant malleability, with the telepathic Lyon children paired at birth with alien children from the Mrdini, with whom they grow up in the hope of developing not only language familiarity but also mutual understanding. [Return to Text]
[6] Elgin continued this series in two further novels I am yet to find time to read, but it’ll be interesting to see how this culture continues to develop with the new language in place. [Return to text]
The views, opinions and ideas presented here are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect those of the University of Warwick. Images have been sourced online from public domain sources.
Postscript: Added 21st June 2025
"Isolate" by language hobbyist Tom R Pike follows a young woman linguist assigned to evaluate the language of the planet Emepera. In this story, Ares (clearly a far-future Mars) is the centre of a vast interstellar empire, and is looking to recover lost human colonies, drawing them into both its political control and its state-controlled religion of Emperor worship. Part of its strategy is that only languages which descend from one of the founding Arean languages are permitted to survive on conquered worlds, while others are forcibly replaced by single-language schooling as part of the empire's programme of cultural and political reprogramming. It's up to the protagonist to grow close enough to the natives to learn their speech, and decide whether the language of northern Emepera is indeed one of the Golden Tongue language families, or instead an isolate destined for destruction.
The main themes here are of cultural and language manipulation as a form of political control, but also touch on how languages evolve, shape and are shaped by the cultures of their speakers.
The short story is dedicated to linguist Rosina Soyan who worked with bilingual Tuvan/Russian speaking children, and accompanied by a (spoiler-rich) blog from Pike explaining its linguistics.
In any case, having come across this just a week or so after posting the blog, I thought I'd share it in case anyone else finds it interesting!