2.1 – Different languages, different worlds

2.1.3 – Closer to home

In our world, there are others who are more like us. They have modern civiliza­tions, political parties, industrial complexes and stocks and shares. Their clothes resemble ours. We appear to have similar concepts and values. Yet for some rea­ son, the French and Germans don’t always get on. In Belgium half of society, dis­ likes the other. The Chinese and Japanese are wary of each other, to say the least; neighbourly Swedes and Norwegians snipe at each other, and the mutual exasper­ation that British and American cousins experience is only too well documented.

Truth. The concepts are shining and clear; our notions of them are different. The German notion is that truth, absolute honest truth, even if somewhat unpalatable, will allow participants to achieve a successful outcome in a business meet­ing. “Die Wahrheit ist die Wahrheit,” say the Germans. Not so, the Chinese would argue-there is no absolute truth. These two conflicting views may both be cor­rect. Many Americans, Norwegians and Finns would agree with the Germans; most Asians and many Italians would agree with the Chinese.

In Germany, Sweden and Finland, where people are generally concerned about what their neighbours think, the drive toward conformity imposes checks and constraints on a person’s ability to refashion veracity. The French, Italians and other Latins are not famous for their candour, which might interfere with the smooth social intercourse they are so fond of. In Japan, where no one must face exposure, be confronted or lose face, truth is a dangerous concept. In Asia, Africa and South America, strict adherence to the truth would destroy the harmony of the relationships between individuals, companies and entire segments of society. Only in Australia is a spade called a spade continent-wide, and even their truth often occasions dismay and leads to fistfights.

2.1.4 – Contracts and ethics.

As the globalization of business brings executives more frequently together, there is a growing realization that if we examine concepts and values, we can take almost nothing for granted. The word contract translates easily from language to language, but like truth, it has many interpretations. To a Swiss, Scandinavian, American or Brit, a contract is a formal document that has been signed and should be adhered to. Signatures give it a sense of finality. But a Japanese businessperson regards a contract as a starting document to be rewritten and modified as circumstances require. A South American sees it as an ideal that is unlikely to be achieved but that is signed to avoid an argument.

Members of most cultures see themselves as ethical, but ethics can be turned upside down. The American calls the Japanese unethical if the latter breaks a contract. The Japanese say it is unethical for the American to apply the terms of the contract if things have changed. Italians have very flexible views on what is ethical and what is not, which sometimes causes Northern Europeans to ques­tion their honesty. When Italians bend the rules or “get around” some laws or regulations, they consider they are less ideal-bound than, say, the Swiss, and cut actually closer to reality. They do not consider themselves corrupt or immoral, nor do they admit to illegality. There are many grey areas where “shortcuts” are, in Italian eyes, the only intelligent course of action. In a country where excessive bureaucracy can hold up business for months, currying favour with an official is a matter of common sense.

2.1.5 – Common sense.

The very term common sense has to be treated carefully, for it is not as common as it seems. British dictionaries define it as “judgment gained from experience rather than study”; the American lexicon describes it as “judgment that is sound but unsophisticated.” Academics are uncomfortable with common sense, which tends to pre-empt their research by coming to the same conclusion months earlier. But we must not think that this rough-and-ready wisdom will unite our mix of nationalities. Common sense, although basic and unsophisticated, cannot be neutral. It is derived from experience, but the experience is culture-bound. It is common sense in Germany and Sweden to form an orderly bus line. In Naples and Rio, it is common sense to get on the bus before anyone else. It would seem common sense for the Japanese to have discarded the Chinese writing system, which does not suit their language and which takes ten years for Japanese children to learn, but they have not done so.

2.1.6 –  Gossip.

Gossip has negative connotations in the Nordic countries and is hardly a good name in the Anglo-Saxon world. Yet gossip proves far more important to us than we would at first admit. lt is a vital source of information in business circles in many countries. In Spain, Italy, Brazil and Japan, gossip quickly updates and bypasses facts and statistics, provides political background to commercial decisions and facilitates invaluable debate between people who do not meet officially. The cafes of Madrid and Lisbon overflow with businesspeople, and the whole of Central and South America “networks” merrily until one or two in the morning.

The corridors of power in Brussels, where European business and political legislation are inevitably intertwined, reverberate with gossip. Countries that do not have access to this hot-house exchange of information will be severely disadvantaged.

Another positive aspect of gossip is that it appears to be good for us-that is to say, in line with our natural evolution. Professor Robin Dunbar of University College London points out that humans live in much larger groups than other primates and that language may have evolved as a form of social glue to hold us together. While some animals obviously communicate well in small groups, it is hardly likely that they can gossip about third parties. This ability enables us to form }arge social or working groups of up to approximately 150 members. This number holds true for ancient “clans,” military fighting units (a company) and even modern firms. Once a commercial enterprise swells well beyond that magic number, it has to be organized into divisions or it becomes less manageable. Intense interest in what other people are doing, finding out from our “group” the latest news about third parties, enables us to network on a large scale and calcu­ late our positions and reactions accordingly. So the Latins, Greeks, and Arabs have got it right after all!

2.1.7 – Silence.

Silence can be interpreted in different ways. A silent reaction to a business proposal would seem negative to American, German, French, Southern European and Arab executives. In countries as dissimilar as the United States, Peru and Kuwait, conversation is a two-way process, where one partner takes up when the other one leaves off. The intervening silence is two or three seconds in Britain and Germany, less than that in Greece and Kuwait and hardly noticeable in France, Italy and the U.S. However, East Asians and Finns find nothing wrong with silence as a response. “Those who know do not speak; those who speak do not know,” says an old Chinese proverb. In these countries, silence is not equated with failure to communicate but is an integral part of social interaction. What is not said is regarded as important, and lulls in conversation are considered restful, friendly and appropriate. Silence means that you listen and learn; talking a lot merely expresses your cleverness, perhaps egotism and arrogance. Silence protects your individualism and privacy; it also shows respect for the individualism of others. In Finland and Japan, it is considered impolite to force one’s opinions on others-it is more appropriate to nod in agreement, smile quietly, and avoid opinionated arguments or discord.

2.1.8 – Powerful mental blocks

As international trade and scientific and political exchange intensify, there is a growing effort on the part of academics, multinational organizations and even nations and governments to improve communication and dialogue. lt is becoming increasingly apparent that in pursuit of this goal, it is desirable not only to learn foreign languages on a much wider scale but to show a sympathetic understanding of other peoples’ customs, societies and cultures. Many binational and international bodies have been created to further this aim, and the personnel and training departments of many large companies have invested substantial sums of money in cross-cultural and internationalization programs and briefings for those staff members who will represent them abroad.

The question I would like to raise is whether or not cross-cultural training and a willingness to adapt will achieve anything at the end of the day, in view of the interlocking nature of our own language and thought. I am not necessarily suggesting that cross-cultural training might eventually be seen to be in vain-1 believe the contrary to be true but I would like to play devil’s advocate for a little while and consider how powerful mental blocks may hinder our ability to change our attitudes or adopt new approaches. From infancy, we are conditioned by various factors and influences-not least by the behaviour and guidance of our parents, teachers and society. But they and we are subjected at every turn to that dominating and pervasive “conditioner”-our common language.

Many linguists adhere to anthropologist Benjamin Whorf’s hypothesis, which states that the language we speak largely determines our way of thinking, as dis­ tinct from merely expressing it. In other words, Germans and Japanese behave in a certain manner because the way they think is governed by the language in which they think. A Spaniard and a Briton see the world in different ways because one is thinking in Spanish and the other in English. People in the British Isles act and live in a certain way because their thoughts are channelled along Anglo-Saxon grooves which are different from neo-Latin, Japanese or Chinese grooves.

The Briton, the German and the Inuit may share a common experience, but it appears to each as a kaleidoscopic flux of impressions that has to be organized by the mind. The mind does this largely by means of language. Thus the three indi­viduals end up seeing three different things. What is fair play to the Briton may be something else to the German, who needs to translate the concept into differ­ ent words, and it may mean nothing at all in a society where there are no organized games.

2.1.9 – English and Zulu

lf you think the notion of fair play is rather abstract, let us go to another instance where a very basic concept is seen in completely different ways by two people of diverse origins. My example involves an Englishman and a Zulu. While the cultural chasm is clear, it is the linguistic factor that dominates this instance.

As mentioned earlier, the Zulu language has 39 words for green. I was interested in how the Zulus could build up 39 one-word concepts for green, while English has only one, and discussed this at length with a former Zulu chief who had earned a doctorate in philology at Oxford. He began by explaining why Zulus needed 39 words for green. In the days before automotive transport and national highways, the Zulu people would often make long treks across their savannah grasslands. There were no signposts or maps and lengthy journeys had to be described by those who had travelled the route before. The language adapted itself to the requirements of its speakers. English copes with concepts such as contract deadlines and stock futures, but our tongue is seen as poverty-stricken and inadequately descriptive by Africans and Native Americans, whose languages abound in finely wrought, beautifully logical descriptions of nature, causation, repetition, duration and result.

“Give me some examples of different green words,” I said to my Zulu friend. He picked up a leaf. “What colour is this?” he asked.

“Green,” I replied.

The sun was shining. He waited until a cloud intervened. “What colour is the leaf now?” he asked.

“Green,” I answered, already sensing my inadequacy. “lt isn’t the same green, is it?”

“No, it isn’t.”

“We have a different word in Zulu.” He dipped the leaf in water and held it out again. “Has the colour changed?”

“Yes.”

“In Zulu, we have a word for green shining wet.”

The sun came out again and I needed another word (leaf-green-wet-but­ with-sunshine-on-it!).

My friend retreated 20 yards and showed me the leaf. “Has the colour changed again?”

“Yes,” I yelled.

“We have another word,” he said with a smile.

He went on to indicate how different Zulu greens would deal with tree leaves, bush leaves vibrating in the wind, river greens, pool greens, tree trunk greens, crocodile greens… He got to 39 without even raising a sweat.

2.1.10 – Language straitjacket

 lt was evident that my Zulu friend and I saw the world through different eyes. And yet it was not a question of eyes. However international, multicultural or all-embracing I wished to be, there was no way I could perceive or feel about nature the way he did because I didn’t have the language to do it with. lt was not just a matter of familiarizing myself with the cultural habits, preferences and taboos of his tribe or even adopting his religion and philosophies. I could only experience reality as fully as he did by learning his language and escaping (in terms of descriptive ability) from the straitjacket of my own.

Just as seeing with two eyes gives us stereoscopic vision and a sense of depth, thinking in two different languages gives us added dimensions of reality. The bilingual Swedish Finn is a case in point. A striking idea is that while French (a language very similar to English) would expand our worldview by maybe an extra 10 per cent, a “primitive” language totally different from our own, with its other logic and set of assumptions, might show us things we have never dreamed of!

2.1.11 – Translation inadequate

The Greeks, who were the first people to inquire in-depth into logic and reason, assumed that language was a universal untampered-with element of reason. They believed it was a phenomenon shared by all mankind and, in the case of educated people, would provide a standard yardstick for the comparison of ideas, experience and reality. They also assumed that ideas could be translated freely into any language. This is only true up to a point.

Those of us who have learned languages at school have noticed the difficulty our teachers have in translating such words as panache, esprit de corps, Gemütlichkeit and Zeitgeist into English. Interpreters at the United Nations are faced daily with similar problems, even with languages that are closely related. In one recorded case, the English speaker said “I assume,” the French interpreter translated it as “I deduce,” and this was rendered by the Russian as “I consider”-by which time the idea of assumption had been lost!

2.1.12 – Different worlds

If this can happen to work with three close relatives of the Indo-European group, we see that two languages as different as English and Navaho literally operate in two different worlds. I think it is important for business people to con­ sider carefully the implication of the expression in different worlds. All observers are not led by the same physical evidence to the same picture of the universe, unless their linguistic backgrounds are similar, or can in some way be calibrated. English, French, German, Russian and other Indo-European languages can be roughly calibrated (although not always satisfactorily), but where does this leave us with Chinese, Indonesian, Finnish or Japanese? If the structure of a person’s language influences the manner in which he or she understands reality and behaves with respect to it, then we could have four individuals who will see the universe through Sino-Tibetan, Polynesian, Altaic and Japanese eyes respectively and then comport themselves accordingly.

Thought = internalized LanguageThere is a good deal of scientific support for the hypothesis that higher levels of thinking depend on language. Thought can be regarded as internalized language. Most of us conduct an interior monologue, often accompanied by visual imagery. The more educated and literate the individual, the more complex and sophisticated this monologue becomes, and there is no doubt that most of this goes on “in words,” whether expressed aloud or not.

We can assume that German, Italian and Malaysian businesspeople do the same thing in their own language. When each speaks, we merely glimpse the tip of a huge iceberg of verbal activity that never breaks the surface of audibility. If you make this reasonable assumption, then you can presume that whatever is said to you will be a brief projection of the inner world of the other person’s thoughts. What is said may be grammatically accurate or erroneous in the extreme, but it will be coloured by the person’s view of reality, which is itself influenced by the rigidity of his or her own language structure. This line of reasoning tends to become somewhat involved but to clarify the point, let’s take a few practical examples.

The German language is a tightly disciplined, no-nonsense entity with long, compound words often expressing complex concepts. We might therefore expect the internal monologue of a German person to be serious rather than casual, concentrating on weighty issues, and resulting in verbalized thoughts that will be anything but flippant.

Contrast this with the interior monologue of an American counterpart. The nature of American English is interwoven with the character and history of the youthful United States. American speech or thought is mobile and opportunis­ tic; it shifts quickly for advantage or compromise and excels in casual and humorous shafts. Germans will take Americans seriously when they do not intend to be taken as such. A further complication is a deep slide that American English has taken into cliches and “tough talk.” Such expressions as gotta deal gotta be joking; no way, full of shit, over the top, you can’t do this to me and give away the store fail to indicate properly what the American is really thinking but are verbal escape routes to simplified analyses or solutions not necessarily in their favour.

Britons are guilty of other clichés indicative of near-stultifying vagueness of thought, well designed to convey very little or nothing at all to their foreign interlocutors. Such expressions, occasionally derived from sport, include fair play, sticky wicket, good innings, good show, bad news, not on and a bit thick.

The French thought monologue is quite different. They have dissected their universe better than most of us, and they try to think about it clearly. They know where they are going and what it is that they want. Their clinical vocabulary is conducive to quick thinking, their lack of vagueness leads to a cutting directness, and their ruthless pursuit of logic will often irritate Anglo-Saxons or Japanese, who tend to “feel their way” toward a solution. The Spanish speaker’s monologue is earthy, emotional and generous. The wealth of Spanish vocabulary and the wide range of endearments and diminutives (shared with Italian and Portuguese) enable the Spaniard to communicate in a warm, human manner indicative of an expansive character and a Jack of cunning. One should not, however, read this warmth as a sign that the Spaniard can easily be taken advantage of.

The Japanese have the most difficult task of all in making the transition from their internal monologues to actual verbal utterances. In their thoughts, they agonize over striking a balance between gaining advantage and correctness of behaviour. Their internalized speech has to be polite in the extreme in view of the fact that they are to address others. But the speech mechanisms involved in such politeness often lead to incredible vagueness of expression, so that whatever message they seek to convey may well get lost in a fog of impeccable behaviour. On top of that, their formidable battery of honorific expressions-so useful in communication between Japanese–are rendered useless in the face of the impossibility of translation, so that their conversation with their foreign counterpart emerges as terribly platitudinous, even if grammatically correct.

2.1.13 – Humour across frontiers

It has been said that humour crosses national boundaries with difficulty, especially when heading east. If we analyse this assertion for a moment, several implica­tions emerge. First, it is self-evident that the victim of a humorous attack is hardly likely to see the funny side of it. French anecdotes depicting the Belgians as a collection of slow-witted yokels fail to gain appreciation in Brussels. The Dutch resent similar treatment at the hands of the Belgians.

Secondly, failure to appreciate the funny side of an anecdote does not neces­sarily depend on one’s being the victim. Serious-minded, factual Germans do not split their sides on hearing American jokes about Texas, which usually depend on gross exaggeration. The story about the Mexican driving just as fast as he could for 24 hours to get out of Texas but finding he had not managed it, thrills the American imagination but sounds far-fetched to the German, who might reply, “He should have used a German car.” This reply would be considered very funny in Germany and fairly humorous in England and Scandinavia.

Apart from the Koreans, who seem to like everybody’s jokes, few Asians are amused by American or (most) European jokes. The Confucian and Buddhist pre­ occupation with truth, sincerity, kindliness and politeness automatically elimi­ nates humour techniques such as sarcasm, satire, exaggeration and parody. They also find little merit in-jokes about religion, sex and underprivileged minorities. Siek or black humour is definitely out.

So what is left, you might ask? Eastern humour, such as we understand it, is couched in subtlety, gentle, indirect reproach or reprimand, occasionally victimiz­ ing listeners in a sly but non-aggressive manner that yet leaves them room for response and stops short of depriving them of their dignity. Even the rougher, occasionally bawdy Koreans take great care to protect the listener’s “wholeness” or standing. Chinese are noted for their aphorisms and proverbs, and they and Indians find great sources of humour in parables, which we in the West find only moderately funny, although they do combine wisdom, moralizing and a sense of perspective

ls there such a thing as a “national style” of humour? Before answering this question directly, one must accept the fact that there is such a thing as international humour-that is to say, some types of humour and some jokes gain international acceptance. In particular, this is true of slapstick, which is age-old in its use and laughed at by Europeans, Americans, Africans and Asians alike. lt is very much in evidence, for instance, on Japanese television. There are also “international” jokes repeated across many borders, such as the one about who must jump first out of the aeroplane, elephant jokes, restaurant jokes and hilarious stories about golfers.

Even in the area of international jokes, however, the national “rinse” begins to show. Take, for example, the old joke about the journalists who organized a competition to write an article about elephants. The titles were as follows:

English             Hunting Elephants in British East Africa

French              The Love Life of Elephants

German           The Origin and Development of the Indian Elephant from 1200 to 1950 (600 pages)

 American       How to breed bigger and better elephants

Russian           How We Sent an Elephant to the Moon

Swede              Elephants and the Welfare State

Spaniard        Techniques of Elephant Fighting

2.1.14 – Humour in business

 As world trade becomes increasingly globalized, business people meet their foreign partners more frequently and consequently feel that they know each other better. lt is only natural that when they develop a closer relationship, they begin to converse in a more relaxed manner. A funny incident involving some personal discomfort or embarrassment is a good start; a sly attack on a “common enemy” may soon follow.

Humour during business meetings is not infrequent in most European countries, although it is less common among Latins than among Northern peoples, where it is a valuable tool for breaking the ice. Perhaps among the Spaniards, Portuguese and Italians, there is little ice to break. Their own racy, gossipy, con­ finding conversation style constitutes in itself a valid humorous element.

lt is in Anglo-Saxon countries that humour is used systematically. Relaxed in Canada and New Zealand, it can be barbed and provocative in Australia. In the United States, particularly, sarcasm, kidding and feigned indignation are regarded as factors that move the meeting along and help get more done in less time. Time is, after all, money. It is perhaps in Britain, though, that humour is most intertwined in business talks. The British hate heavy or drawn-out meetings and will resort to various forms of humour and distracting tactics to keep it all nice and lively.

However, two nationalities, in particular, avoid jokes and other forms of humour during the actual business sessions. Germans find it out of place during negotiations. Business is serious and should be treated as such, without irrelevant stories or distractions. If you do not concentrate on the issue, you are not showing respect to your interlocutor. Kidding is, in their eyes, not honest and creates con­ fusion in business discussions. They want to know about the price, quality and delivery dates, with some precision, please.