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This paper presents some reflections on the link between language diversity and human thought. It argues against the view of a complete divide between different modes of thinking, supposedly rooted in language. It shows that in Inuktitut, an Inuit dialect that is structurally quite different from Western forms of speech, valid thinking obeys principles that are in fact the universal conditions of mutual understanding. The paper is organized as follows. I will first claim that the concept of linguistic relativism is at odds with the existence of what can be called ‘basic theoretical rationality.’ I will then focus on the expression of basic theoretical rationality in Inuktitut. And finally, I will try to promote a reasonable answer to this question: Why is logical thinking unequally valued by different cultures?

Basic Theoretical Rationality as a Limit to Linguistic Relativism

First of all, it is important to make a distinction between the concept of ‘linguistic relativism’ and the concept of ‘linguistic relativity.’ Linguistic relativity is the idea that causal relationships exist between language and thought. It is hard to deny that these relationships do in fact exist. Languages tend to influence their speakers’ thought patterns just as they tend to be influenced by those same thought patterns. Let us give two examples. The Inuit numerical system is very seldom used to count above twenty, and it is a fact that unilingual Inuit language speakers have some difficulty manipulating large numbers. Inuit language speakers have a radically open relation to the future, and it is a fact that the Inuit language does not make a difference between ‘if’ and ‘when.’

Linguistic relativity is not a new concept. For its essay competition of 1759, the Berlin Academy of Sciences sought responses to the question, “What is the reciprocal influence of the opinions of people on language, and of language on opinions?” At roughly the same time, we find Jean-Jacques Rousseau ([1762] 1974, 73) writing, “Languages, as they change the symbols, also modify the ideas which the symbols express. Minds are formed by language; thoughts take their color from its ideas. Reason alone is common to all. Every language has its own form, a difference which may be partly cause and partly effect of differences in national character; this conjecture appears to be confirmed by the fact that in every nation under the sun, speech follows the changes of manners, and is preserved or altered along with them.” The concept of linguistic relativity has been well explored by contemporary scholars (see in particular the works of John A. Lucy 1992, 1997).

Linguistic relativism is a more extreme notion. It holds that everything in human thought is relative to the language in which it is conducted. In other words, it posits that one’s native language totally determines one’s thought patterns. Since every language is supposed to be unique, this also implies that each speech community has its own distinct way of thinking, both incommensurable to any other and unassailable from the outside.

Linguistic relativism is not a new concept either. Although often presented as a discovery stemming from the pioneering work of Benjamin Lee Whorf in the 1930s, it took shape in European romanticism of the nineteenth century, at a time when nation-states were consolidating. Wilhelm von Humboldt ([1836] 1988, 54, 60), for instance, considered language as “the formative organ of thought” (in German: “das bildende Organ des Gedankens”) and claimed that different languages necessarily give rise to different “worldviews” (in German: “Weltansichten”). In the twentieth century, a similar conception was elaborated by the philosopher Martin Heidegger. Heidegger, who defines language as “the house of Being,” explicitly states that “a dialogue from house to house…remains almost impossible” ([1959] 1971, 5). Linguistic relativism is widespread today among people who are fond of cultural exoticism and those who hold nationalist views.

Nonetheless, there is at least one aspect of human thought that is obviously not relative to language. It consists of some fundamental principles pertaining to theoretical rationality. (“Reason alone is common to all,” Rousseau said in the excerpt quoted above.) Theoretical rationality is the use of reason in the field of knowledge and belief. It is opposed to practical rationality—that is, the use of reason to decide how to act. Theoretical rationality relies on three principles, in the absence of which there can be no shared thinking in any language or culture. These principles are not ontological realities. They are logical rules, the first rules of meaningful thought, the heart of what can be called ‘basic theoretical

  • (1) The principle of identity: something is what it is; something is itself.

  • (2) The principle of noncontradiction: something cannot be both itself and not itself at the same time and in the same sense.

  • (3) The principle of excluded middle: either something is or it isn’t; there is no third option.

These principles happen to have been expressed by Aristotle in his Metaphysics, but there is nothing specifically Greek in them.[1] This is what Geoffrey E.R. Lloyd (1990, 86) underlines in his book Demystifying Mentalities: “When Aristotle first formulated the principles of noncontradiction and of excluded middle, he evidently aimed to make explicit rules that are implicit in all human communication, the rules, indeed, that state the conditions of intelligible communication.” In fact, one cannot dispute these principles without using them in one’s argument against them. To disprove them, one would have to base one’s argument upon them.

Basic theoretical rationality also includes various notions directly connected to the three above-mentioned principles. Identity enables us to think sameness and difference. Contradiction leads notably to the concepts of truth-as-coherence, logical nonsense, truth-as-correspondence, falsehood, and lie. The excluded middle is more problematic but is linked to the notion of proof by contradiction.

All in all, the existence of basic theoretical rationality prevents us from accepting linguistic relativism. Speech communities do not live in completely different mental worlds.

The Expression of Basic Theoretical Rationality in Inuktitut

By examining a collection of Inuit words, phrases, and quotes, we will now see how basic theoretical rationality manifests itself in the Inuit language. The Inuit language forms a dialect chain stretching from West Alaska across Arctic Canada to East Greenland. Inuktitut is the name of the varieties of Inuit language that are spoken in the eastern Canadian Arctic. The data in this paper come from Nunavik (Arctic Quebec). The Nunavik dialect has been my main object of study since 2010. All the data have been checked with native speakers.

Identity and Difference

The expression of identity and difference in Inuktitut usually involves the noun base atji ‘copy’ or the relational noun base asi- ‘other than.’ Two similar entities are designated literally as ‘two mutual copies.’ Two identical entities are therefore ‘two exact mutual copies.’ When two entities are different from one another, they are said ‘not to be mutual copies.’ Alternatively, one entity is said ‘to be other than (the other entity).’ If someone confuses one entity with another, ‘he thinks it is other than (it is).’[2]

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The verb base katit- ‘put together, assemble’ can also be used in utterances suggesting that two things are not to be confused.

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(Non)contradiction

Although there is no direct equivalent for the word ‘contradiction’ in Inuktitut, the concepts of contradiction and coherence are expressed through a number of phrases. Two noun bases play an important role here—namely, akiraq ‘enemy’ and tuki- ‘meaning, sense.’ (The latter comes from a relational noun base referring to the ‘head to tail direction’ or to the ‘lengthwise axis’ of a thing). Contradictory claims are literally ‘mutual enemies.’ Coherent claims are said to have ‘(good) sense’ and absurd claims to have none.

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Taamusi Qumaq, the famous author of Inuit uqausillaringit (The Genuine Inuit Words), who was a unilingual Elder from Puvirnituq, gave us his own definition of what tukiqangngituq means (1991, 226). It is worth quoting this definition and translating it for the first time:

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Words, Facts, and Truth

As already emerges from the quotation above, relationships between speech and the real world can be formulated in Inuktitut. Expressing that a statement conforms to reality or not usually involves the verb base suli- ‘be true’ or ‘be right.’ In spite of an ambiguity between a theoretical and a practical meaning of the base, there are many instances where it obviously denotes the mere absence of a contradiction between words and facts, or in the negative, the mere existence of such a contradiction. In the same vein, Inuktitut has a substantial lexicon of lying, built on the verb base sallu- ‘lie.’ This can be seen from Lucien Schneider’s dictionary (1985, 337).

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Additionally, Inuktitut uses the locational noun base mitsi- ‘this side of something ahead’ (as in qarqaup mitsaanut ‘toward this side of the mountain ahead’) to denote external reality as a foundation for the truth or falsehood of factual utterances. Hence, mitsiqarniq ‘the truth, the reality’ is literally ‘the state of having a visible side.’ Likewise, mitsilik means ‘true’ in the sense of ‘real’ and mitsiqangngituq ‘untrue’ in the sense of ‘unreal.’ The latter word can also be a verb meaning ‘it has no reality.’ Again, let us quote and translate the definition of this verb by Taamusi Qumaq (1991, 321).

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Reflective and Critical Thought

To conclude this second part, we should note the generally unremarked existence in Inuktitut of a lexicon of reflective and critical thought, ultimately deriving from basic theoretical rationality. Beyond the noun base isuma ‘thought, wisdom,’ which is so often mentioned in anthropological works, we find, for instance, the deverbal noun isumaguti, referring more specifically to the power of drawing inferences. One could even conceivably translate it as ‘reason.’ Another relevant example is the denominal verb isumatsasiurtuq, which refers to the activity of considering or pondering something. (It is interesting to point out that the postbase -siuq- ‘look for’ also means ‘hunt,’ as in puijisiurtuq ‘he is seal-hunting.’ Reflection may be viewed as a kind of hunting, where game consists of potential thoughts and ideas).

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Other words and phrases clearly express the critical faculty of the human mind. This is the case with the ones below, which are employed by unilingual Elders and not just imported Western concepts and expressions.

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A last quotation from Taamusi Qumaq (1991, 205) is in order here—namely, the one he gives for the verb puqiasuttuq ‘s/he is skeptical, s/he doubts that another person is telling the truth.’ Paul Veyne ([1971] 1984, 78–79, including note 12) is right to lampoon those who deny the ability of Indigenous people, even as individuals, to step back from their community’s representations and subject them to a kind of critical evaluation.

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A Few Examples

Let us now see how some of the notions presented above manifest themselves in spontaneous use. The following quotes are all from a book published in 1974 by the Northern Quebec Inuit Association. This book, titled ᑕᖅᕋᒥᐅᑦ, The Northerners, Les Septentrionaux, contains transcripts of comments made in Inuktitut during consultations with the people and community councils in the summer of 1973. With these comments, the Inuit tell the Quebec government who they are, why they oppose the policy of the day (including the James Bay Project), and what they want. The Inuktitut text contains no diacritical marks and is accompanied by a direct translation into English. I have added the diacritical marks and edited the English translations to make them more literal.

The first quote (Northern Quebec Inuit Association 1974, 15) deals with the notions of identity and difference. Recounting his recent testimony at the James Bay court hearing, Thomassie Kudluk makes the following claim:

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The key element here is the noun base atji. The word atjigiingngimanik can be literally translated as ‘they are not copies of one another.’

The second quote (Northern Quebec Inuit Association 1974, 45) has to do with the notion of (non)contradiction. Jacob Oweetaluktuk spots an inconsistency in the government’s policy:

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The government cannot say on the one hand that we must suspend the caribou hunt to preserve these animals, and on the other that we must continue a project that destroys these animals. Either caribou matter or they don’t, there is no third option. (Or you have to admit that your project matters more than the lives of the caribou, and therefore the lives of Inuit themselves.) The key element here is the noun base tuki-. The word tukisigunnaitara can be literally translated as ‘I don’t find any axis/meaning/sense/logic in it anymore.’

The two last quotes are about truth, falsehood, and the relationships between words and facts. Just after Josepi Keleutak mentioned another disturbing project of the Quebec government, an anonymous Inuk (Northern Quebec Inuit Association 1974, 77) says,

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The intuition expressed here is clear and involves the verb base suli-: a declarative sentence that is both complete and unambiguous is either true or false: sulijuq sulingngiturluuniit. We know this a priori. Such a sentence may be about the future and prove to be false.

The contradiction between words and facts can also appear immediately, as in this case reported by Stanley Annanack (Northern Quebec Inuit Association 1974, 67):

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Why Is Logical Thinking Unequally Valued by Different Cultures?

All of the above being said, it is hard to deny that logical thinking seems not to be an end in itself in Indigenous societies. Inuit are no exception. Anyone familiar with their cultural output knows that logical inconsistency doesn’t alarm them as much as it may alarm Westerners. Suffice it to mention the wealth of internal contradictions that pervades Inuit traditional tales, the strikingly fuzzy identification and classification of nonmaterial entities in Inuit ontologies (a fuzziness often lost in structuralist anthropology), and the absence of formal reasoning as a topic of discourse among individual Inuit.

The point here is not to suggest that Inuit and other Indigenous Peoples lack logical thinking skills.[3] It is only to state, in the terms of Nicholas J. Gubser (1965, 227) speaking about the Alaskan Nunamiut, that the Inuit “are very concerned with truth, but not truth in the sense of an ideal abstraction.” So the question is, how should we interpret this relative lack of concern with the rules of logic? The argument I am going to put forward is not original, as it follows on the seminal work of Jack Goody (1977).[4]

Goody (1977, 2) thinks that anthropologists interested in this question “have tended to set aside evolutionary or even historical perspectives, preferring to adopt a kind of cultural relativism that looks upon discussions of development as necessarily entailing a value judgement…and as over-emphasising or misunderstanding the differences.” According to him, however, it is very possible to “admit of differences in cognitive processes or cultural developments” (16) without falling into ethnocentric evolutionism.

In fact, the explanation of the difference at stake is not to be found in the deep recesses of the human soul (Volksgeist, mentalities, etc.), but rather in the contingent history of language tools, and specifically in literacy. A long tradition of literacy is a necessary condition for the rise of modes of thought bound by formal logic.

Why is that so? Because writing is not just a passive transcription of speech or an artificial memory: it is an intellectual technology which ends up having an impact on the way people think and talk. It creates a new dimension for reflection, where it fosters abstraction of reasoning as well as logical consistency. As Goody (1977, 37) puts it, writing…made it possible to scrutinize discourse in a different kind of way by giving oral communication a semi-permanent form; this scrutiny favored the increase in scope of critical activity, and hence of rationality, skepticism, and logic…; the human mind was freed to study static “text” (rather than be limited by participation in the dynamic “utterance”), a process that enabled man to stand back from his creation and examine it in a more abstract, generalized, and rational way. By making it possible to scan the communications of mankind over a much wider time span, literacy encouraged, at the very same time, criticism and commentary.

Let us also read this illuminating excerpt: A continuing critical tradition can hardly exist when skeptical thoughts are not written down, not communicated across time and space, not made available for men to contemplate in privacy as well as to hear in performance….Here, I suggest, lies the answer, in part at least, to the emergence of Logic and Philosophy….Logic, in its formal sense, is closely tied to writing: the formalization of propositions, abstracted from the flow of speech and given letters (or numbers), leads to the syllogism. Symbolic logic and algebra, let alone the calculus, are inconceivable without the prior existence of writing. More generally, a concern with the rules of argument or the grounds for knowledge seems to arise, though less directly, out of the formalization of communication (and hence of “statement” and “belief”) which is intrinsic to writing. Philosophic discourse is a formalisation of just the kind one would expect with literacy. “Traditional” societies are marked not so much by the absence of reflexive thinking as by the absence of the proper tools for constructive rumination (Goody 1977, 43–44).

In the case of Nunavik Inuit, one could object that a syllabic writing system has existed for over a century—a system of which Inuit are rightfully proud. But the fact is that the place of writing in the ecology of communication in Inuktitut remains very limited. Inuit culture is indisputably an oral culture, especially in the Canadian Arctic.

To conclude, I have tried to make two main points. First, there is a fundamental restriction to the claim that people with different languages think differently. All human beings, everywhere, irrespective of their language, have the same reasoning faculty. An examination of how basic theoretical rationality manifests itself in Inuktitut demonstrates that Inuit in Canada are included in this generalization. This may seem obvious, but is still a point worth making in light of the claims that are sometimes made about ‘Indigenous thought.’ Second, it is probably true that ‘the Inuit’ are less sensitive to the logical form of speech than ‘the Qallunaat’— that is, outsiders like the author—may be. But there is no need to suppose a deep mental chasm between the two to account for this difference: it can be traced to historical changes in means of communication, specifically the advent of writing, the increased weight of literacy and its cascading consequences.