Starwarskian Xenophonetics; or how I learned to stop worrying and love Protocol Droids

While by and large in agreement with Noah’s interesting post on the overrated linguistic accumen of Avatar, I’ll have to take issue with this bit:

One of the most disappointing aspects of the Star Wars franchise is the laziness of the approach to language.

I’ve actually always given Star Wars reasonably high marks on its approach to language. Which isn’t to say I’m not grading on a curve here, because I am. Hollywood sci-fi blockbusters certainly didn’t make their reputation through anything like scientific accuracy, and Linguistics seems to get a heartier brush-off than most sciences. So Star Wars‘ high marks are only because they’re near the top of the class in this field. But surely that counts for something?

What I certainly can’t credit is this:

Numerous other sci-fi shows and movies at least address the issue, even if this only amounts to asserting the existence of a hugely implausible universal translation technology.

First of all, inserting a magic device into a universe that makes the problem go away is NOT anyone’s idea of “addressing the issue.” Sorry, but it’s handwaving pure. Second, since it’s Star Trek that’s (unfairly) most closely associated with the universal translator, I’ll have to add that I can only remember a handful of times in ANY of the infinite iterations of that series when it’s even mentioned, let alone malfunctions or runs across a language too alien to digest. It does happen from time to time, but of course this only begs more questions, like why it is in the general case that Captains Kirk/Picard/Janeway/Deep Sleep Nine Dude have no trouble talking to completely undiscovered species of rubber-foreheaded humanoids, and why aliens are still able to pronounce the odd easily-translatable word in their own language despite presumably being plugged in to the universal translator that’s translating all the rest of their speech. Nope, won’t do. Star Trek gets an “F” for “Full of Crap” on the language issue.

Star Wars at least makes an effort. No, it doesn’t succeed. No, it doesn’t do all it could or should. But in its defense, it’s technically science fantasy and not science fiction, which does let it off the hook for scientific accuracy (unlike Star Trek, which wears its scientific plausibility vanity on its sleeve in the form of endless treknobabble), and in any case the story it’s telling isn’t one about communication with alien species. Aliens and droid are second-class citizens in the Star Wars universe – there for stage decoration more than as thematic engines.

As background noise, the pastiche of assorted noises and bits and pieces of real languages works reasonably well, but the issues of multilinguality and translation are never addressed. Somehow, Han Solo and Greedo understand one another just fine. It’s silly, and it goes beyond my ability to suspend disbelief.

Presumably what’s going on with Han Solo and Greedo is exactly what’s, somewhat more obviously, going on with Han Solo and Chewbacca: each is anatomically incapable of pronouncing the other’s language, but they can hear and interpret what one assumes is a homogenized standard version of each that each is speaking for the other’s benefit. This isn’t so unprecedented even here on planet Earth. In most parts of India, I’m given to understand, there is no shortage of people who are fluent in a few local languages plus can understand, but not necessarily speak, a few more on top of that. Now, it’s true that anatomy isn’t an issue for fellow humans the way it is between Wookies and Humans – or whatever-Greedo-is and Humans – but in a universe as packed to the gills with species as the Star Wars universe seems to be, it’s not too hard to imagine that you do get a large number of pairings for whom this description holds. For the others, their are protocol droids such as C3PO (who at least claims to be “fluent in over six million forms of communication”) – which, incidentally, speaks against Noah’s assertion that Star Wars “doesn’t even address the issue [paraphrase].”

A fairer thing to say would be that Star Wars addresses the issue, but maybe not as much as we’d like. It’s certainly true that we wouldn’t expect all (though I can accept “most”) species to evolve audition-based communication systems. And among those that do, given how different auditory ranges among earthbound species can be, it stretches creduilty a bit to think that Greedo doesn’t say some things which are outside Han’s hearing range or vice versa. And on top of that there’s the fact that humans are evolved to recognize linguistic productions as such – which wouldn’t be the case with linguistic productions from Greedo’s species. Nor is there any reason why Greedo’s speech should consist primarily of recognizeable human phonemes with some altered timbres, which it does to my ears at any rate. And all of this is not to mention that vocal/auditory systems that evovled in different atmospheric densities would malfunction in whatever atmospheres our heros tend to be in – though this goes a bit beyond the Linguistic issue. So no, Star Wars doesn’t quite succeed. It would’ve helped to have Han snap on a small earset – like a hearing aid – that would’ve converted Greedo’s speech into some sequence of sounds that his brain was wired to interpret – agreed. Or, if it’s a cochlear implant-type thing, to have mentioned it at some point (though doing so without resorting to expository dialogue is admittedly tricky). But the point, I think, is that I can layer cochlear implant soundwave translators on top of an India-like environment without too much trouble in my own imagination. The function of Willful Suspension of Disbelief, after all, is not to actively believe in things which are inherently believable; rather, it’s that the author of the universe gives me enough internal consistency that I can ignore the stuff that contradicts science as I know it for the sake of enjoying a good story. It’s a pact that the reader makes with the author that leapfrogs the technical implementation so that we can get to the stuff that we’re interested in. I can do that with Star Wars – because, after all, there are scenes where C3PO is needed to translate (the scene in Jabba’s palace between Jabba and Leia-as-bounty-hunter, on Endor among the Ewoks), and we do get snatches of alien speech that is actually alien (the Ithorians in the cantina scene). Star Wars acknowledges that the alien communication issue is there, it reassures me that this universe has solved it, and so what frayed ends are left over I understand to be outside the storyteller’s specialty, and I let him off the hook. The ONLY reason that might be easier for some people to do with Star Trek is because Star Trek simply sweeps the issue under the rug.

Indeed, I think the most interesting thing about scientific accuracy of any kind with regard to Star Trek is how ludicrously underdeserved its reputation in this area actually is. It’s not just language – take almost any area of comparison and Star Wars does better. But – if I can channel the Wizard of Oz here for a second – Star Trek has got one thing that Star Wars hasn’t got: treknobabble. And that apparently makes all the difference, since ask any random sample of science fiction fans which series is more scientifically accurate and I’m guessing you’ll get a 90+% majority for Trek. Just because of a random sequence of syllables peppered here and there that sounds vaugely like something they would name some particles that Swiss collider might turn up someday. THAT, ladies and gentlemen, is a Linguistic Issue!

In the end, I suspect that the post-2005 revival of Doctor Who tackles the interspecies language issue best. When Rose asks the Doctor why, if he’s an alien, he sounds like he’s from the North, he replies, condescendingly, “Lots of planets have a North!” Well said.

- Joshua

[cross-posted at The Only Winning Move]