First things first. The fascination with polyglots is real and justified and you’re totally not weird for binge-watching YouTube videos to unlock the secrets of the mystical beings who are able to read, write, speak, and overall master multiple languages.
The term is also used in computing, where a polyglot refers to a computer program written in multiple programming languages to perform the same operations to leverage the strengths and functionalities of the different languages.
Before we delve into the subject of language wizardry, come hither for a quick etymological detour into some fun computing terms.
The cloud of ‘cloud computing’ fame and paid iCloud infamy, comes from the word cloud (duh), which in turn was actually derived from Old English clūd, originally meaning “lump or mass of earth.” Over the 14th century, the meaning of the word took off from the ground to refer to formations in the sky, perceived by people as floating rock clusters. Creative, but nothing to blog home about. Before the Web entangled us all, blog had many unrelated meanings: anything resembling a log or block of wood; to look sullen; and even “a servant-boy in one of the houses [on campus]” (believed to be a perversion of the word bloke).
Of course, the word itself isn’t derived from any of these outdated uses and comes from Weblog to mean a Web-based journal (log). The blogsphere expanded and spread like a virus (think it’s too harsh a description? you’ve clearly never stumbled upon the horrifying Illuminati conspiracy blogs) and is now vast enough that all the other uses of the word have faded away. The term virus, before its current biological connotations, referred to venom and poison in classical Latin. Its enemy, firewall comes from some innovative mid-1600s walls made of noncombustible material to stop fires from spreading, later turning into the catch-all term for protective barriers.
But the most amusing backstory belongs to spam, a term we all know and detest because of its links to unsolicited commercial emails. The fun part is that spam does not actually stand for anything remotely related to the world of computers and virtual inboxes. Instead, its roots lie in the humble luncheon meat (spiced ham) produced by Hormel Foods. During WW2, it became a major source of nourishment for Allied troops, known in the UK as Special Processed American Meat. The British comedy show Monty Python’s Flying Circus used the term in a popular sketch and that’s where the modern usage was borrowed from by some trusty computer geeks.
Second things second. Being a polyglot is not the same as being multilingual. Though both words can be broken down to meaning ‘many-tongued’ (depicted quite literally in the topmost image by Kathlyn Loke and Frances Loke Wei), polyglot (dating back to the 1670s) comes from Greek polyglōttos whereas multilingual (more recent; dated 1838 in the OED) has Latin roots.
On a more technical level, a multilingual is someone who speaks four or more languages, mostly because of living in a multicultural environment: for instance, if your parents have different mother tongues that they use at home. Meanwhile polyglots also speak at least four languages (there’s not much consensus on this but let’s keep the bar low, shall we?) but with a basic conversational skills or in stricter terms a minimum B2 level proficiency. Also, they only have one ‘native’ language or ‘mother’ tongue, and hence they learn additional languages outside their homes with a lot of determination, ambition and practice. Call it nature vs. nurture. Or don’t, if you want to be accurate.
Another explanation goes as follows:
A multilingual speaks more than one language because they are required to. A polyglot speaks more than one language because they simply want to. As long as you know more than 1 language, you are multilingual.
P.S. All polyglots are multilinguals, but not all multilinguals are polyglots.
40% of the world’s population is monolingual i.e. only speaks one language. Meanwhile, the % of those who are polyglots lies in the low single digits. The rarity of the accomplishment increases its mystique and raises important questions regarding the limits of human endeavor and learning as well as the tug of war between learning things deeply vs. broadly.
Michael Erard’s Babel No More discovered that polyglots opt for the broad path. Rather than taking an all-or-nothing approach to language learning, they set the bar lower with a something-and-something approach. This allows them to be comfortable in multiple languages instead of aiming for native-level fluency in every tongue they tackle. Before you fly too close to the sun, modern day Icarus, remember that even this basic level of proficiency may take months and years of practice.
So, how do they do it?
Pragmatic responses from the (multi-tongued) mouth of the horse include actively listening to how a language ebbs and flows, reading level-appropriate books, consuming media in the target language through songs and movies, doing ‘phased repetition’ to revise vocabulary (use it or lose it is a common refrain in such circles), and even immersing yourself into the lifestyle and culture by communicating with natives or visiting a country where the target language is spoken, perhaps during your student exchange program (pass the tissues, please).
The most-cited explanation for second-language acquisition was provided by Stephen Krashen’s Monitor Model (see diagram above). It gets complicated fast with its five hypotheses but its thoroughness has made a lasting impact on language-learning literature.
Another question pertaining to how we learn a language (even our native one) at all has been addressed by many interesting theories and theorists. These can be broadly divided into two schools of thought, one claiming that language is in-built in humans while the other calling it non-innate, merely a response to external stimuli.
The first camp is populated by Descartes’ Cartesian Linguistics and Chomsky’s Universal Grammar, referring to humans’ innate tools for language acquisition. The second group contains Locke’s philosophy of tabula rasa (‘blank slate’, meaning there is no innate logic behind languages and all our knowledge comes from outside through sensory experiences) and Skinner’s Theory of Behaviorism (which perpetuated the idea of “operant conditioning” wherein people are conditioned to say the right things through a process of punishment and reinforcement).
For those of us who enjoy disappointing and subsequently being threated by the Duolingo owl, here’s a useful flowchart to figure out which language to butcher next. Statistically (and realistically) speaking, most of us will never make it to the level you have to reach to be able to gloat about being a polyglot, but you didn’t hear that from me. This is a safe space, readers. So, read on. Even if it’s only in one language.