Back in the fifties, when the world and I were young, it was quite common for the BBC to broadcast interesting and informative tv programmes. I learned much from watching, and listening to, impossibly clever professors of this and doctors of that discussing really important subjects. Of all the delights that came with these discussions there was one which never failed to keep me rivetted to the screen and hanging on to every word spoken ; and this was when a member of the panel was a foreigner. In those halcyon days, of course, to be both a foreigner and a professor meant to be either a German professor or an East European professor. Nothing less would do.
What struck me most about these foreign professors was that, although they expressed their brilliant ideas in a style of English that was in all technical respects impeccable, they were all handicapped by having almost impenetrable accents. “How,” I asked, “Is it possible that they have learned the English language so excellently, and yet they cannot pronounce it properly?” I thought, in my ignorance, that the pronunciation would be the easiest part of using a language. I was to get clues to their difficulty much later.
Psychologists and neurologists seem to agree that the new-born child is equipped with a full set of cells for its nervous system ; from the brain to the furthest toe, all the nerve cells that will ever be needed are present. But, although present, comparatively few of them are in full working order ; and this is particularly true of the brain, where our more complex mental functions are performed. You can get an idea of this when you see how small a baby’s head is. And you can get an idea of brain-cell immaturity when you see the baby making laughable attempts to control and co-ordinate the movements of its limbs ; for the limbs are directed by particular sets of brain cells. It takes time and practice for those cells to mature.
And the movements of the muscles needed to produce speech are similarly immature at birth ; they too need time and practice to mature. And those movements are complex and delicate, which explains, perhaps, why speech is comparatively late in appearing.
Linguists, like all scientists, are forever refining their opinions on the basics of their trade. But they used to say that there are about forty to fifty distinct sounds that the human voice can make. No language uses all possible sounds, but most use most of them, with distinct differences between different languages. Thus English speakers will use (say) about forty distinct sounds, while German speakers will use (say) forty-one. But several sounds used in English do not appear in German, and vice versa.
But what has this to do with clever professors not being able to speak English clearly? Well, it boils down to a question of their age when they first learned to speak English.
Brain cells not only mature with practice, but they also have a ‘sensitive period’ in which the maturation can occur. Attempts to teach a month-old baby to speak are doomed to fail because the cells controlling speech are not ready even to begin to learn ; the sensitive period has yet to start. When the child does begin to learn it naturally learns to make those sounds that are peculiar to its native language ; it imitates the sounds made by its parents, and it quite quickly becomes fluent.
But it usually does not learn the sounds that are foreign to its parents ; indeed, if makes such a sound, its parents will discourage it. And those foreign sounds might never be learned by the child ; certainly it will not ordinarily become fluent in them.
So, does all this mean that a German child can never learn good English pronunciation (or vice versa)? Not at all, for the sensitive period for learning speech lasts until about the eighteenth year. After that, the learning gets harder until it is all but defunct. So, schools are quite able to teach a foreign language, provided that sufficient time is allowed for practice.
Well, all this I learned late in life, alas. But at least it solved a mystery for me. I now knew why Professor X had perfect English, all bar the pronunciation. I also learned that there seem to be sensitive periods for other skills, and that they are not the same as for language learning. So, when I meet someone who is pretty awful at maths for example, despite being very rational, I am slow to judge on his apparent lack of intelligence. Not everyone who fails to appreciate good music is blameworthy in any way. And people who lack the dexterity for delicate tasks are not necessarily at personal fault.
Generally, although we are able to understand our own shortcomings a little better with a little more knowledge, we would be wise to avoid the trap of failing to appreciate the knowledge of others ; knowledge of which we have almost no understanding, through no fault of our own.
