In Ursula K. Le Guin’s science fiction novel, The Left Hand of Darkness, a diplomatic envoy, Mr. Genly Ai, travels to another planet, Gethen, in order to convince its ruler to join the Ekumen, an interstellar alliance. Despite Ai’s goodwill and intention behind his tireless efforts towards accomplishing his mission, it is the element of miscommunication and lack of understanding in the Gethenian culture that ultimately hinders him from doing so, and prompts situations of conflict and violence, escalating towards war. As the reader, we step into Ai’s shoes through his narration, tasked with the arduous goal of setting aside one’s own language and cultural worldview in an effort to understand and thus effectively communicate with a society that is alien to us.[1] 

There is a closely-knit relationship between language and the human condition.

In establishing Ai’s perpetual predicament with a linguistic and, thus cultural, barrier, Le Guin provokes the reader to think critically about the conflict that arises when comparing the structure of one’s own society with that of a foreign society by inventing a multitude of planets, each with their own languages and worldviews. It is such an analysis of the plot through a linguistic lens that allows Le Guin to point us towards a greater message on the closely-knit relationship between language and the human condition.

The human experience with language, the unconsciously accepted repository for understanding, is one too many times dismissed as too simple and biologically fitting to our nature to be questioned. Despite its seeming success in creating clarity as an organized structural mode of communication for humans, it is the limitations and imperfections in language itself that are closely tied with the limitations of the human mind itself. Simply put, we cannot completely and accurately express every world phenomenon into words and as humans, have a limited capacity in achieving an absolute conceptual understanding of the world around and universe beyond us. Yet, it is an intrinsic, perpetual hunger to search for clarity and understanding in the world around us and our purpose in it, inscribed in the human condition, that causes us to have a frustratingly difficult time accepting or even understanding the extent of our limitations as humans.

The structural institution of language embedded into society nourishes a miscommunication and conflict between different cultures that is far more chaotic and dangerous than would seem.

In turn, we are constantly twisted into a chaotic path of confusion that not only dominates our everyday lives, but is at the core of our greater life decisions and effects on the world we live in. In applying such a concept of human nature and language to the circumstance of communication between individuals of varying language and culture, one can see that miscommunication becomes something far beyond a generally harmless moment of conflict in daily life. Through the eyes of ignorant and naïve Ai, Le Guin utilizes The Left Hand of Darkness as an allegorical platform for the message that the structural institution of language embedded into society nourishes a miscommunication and conflict between different cultures that is far more chaotic and dangerous than would seem. It is a miscommunication that supersedes everyday discourse, and instead, fueled by a fear-stricken drive of mankind, is the basis for hostility, violence, and warfare in the novel.

Le Guin pushes the reader to examine…the significance of one’s own human condition and how its permeation through confrontations between differing languages greatly amplify effects of fear and confusion to harsh magnitudes.

From the start of the novel, Ai appears to assume the role of the double-edged sword of the human condition: ignorant and subject to miscommunication, and a victim to outside judgement and dehumanization based on preconceived notions about one’s culture from individuals of different cultures. In fact, Le Guin creates Ai’s name as a play on the word “I” in order to form a deep connection between the reader and dynamics of cultural relativism and ethnocentrism in the story, forcing the reader to identify and take responsibility for their harsh tendencies to label and prejudge others through “I” statements. Such a linguistic choice in the novel allows for a nuanced psychological effect on the reader by intrusively placing them in the shoes of the main character. In doing so, Le Guin pushes the reader to an unforeseeably vulnerable state—to examine the significance of one’s own human condition and how its permeation through confrontations between differing languages greatly amplify effects of fear and confusion to harsh magnitudes.

We begin to witness the development of this dynamic between the human condition and miscommunication with varying languages as soon as Ai confronts the ruler of Gethen, King Argaven. On pages 7-10, Ai states that King Argaven “often speaks, frank yet cautious,…as if always aware that I see and judge as an alien: a singular awareness in one of so isolate a race,” yet he himself, despite being on the planet Winter for almost two years, “was still far from being able to see the people of the planet through their own eyes.” This exhibits the symbiotic relationship between the practice and reception of prejudice towards those we deem as different from our own kind. It is our innate solipsistic[2] habits that cause us to see our language as the only language and interchangeably our culture as the only culture, as our cultural values and worldviews encode themselves in language.

SOLIPSISM: the philosophical idea that one’s own mind is the only thing that can be known to exist.

(https://elizabeth-reninger.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/01/Solipsism-cartoon.jpg).

Solipsist is a fantasy short film that reimagines a counter-solipsist world where otherworldly beings converge into one entity.  (https://vimeo.com/37848135).

When communicating with individuals from different backgrounds, we naturally vocalize thoughts and beliefs in the only way we have learned how.

As stated by Alec Hyslop on page one of the scholarly article, “Other Minds,” “There is also a conceptual problem: how is it possible for us to form a concept of mental states other than our own?” This universal human dilemma in not having the mental capacity to fully understand a mind outside of our own in turn creates an ordeal that is quite hard to ignore as social creatures. When communicating with individuals from different backgrounds, we naturally vocalize thoughts and beliefs in the only way we have learned how, without already knowing if others would understand in the exact same way that makes sense to us in our minds. For example, I recall riding the train the other day with two friends of mine who are of Chinese descent and both speak fluent Mandarin. While engaging in conversation about the sense of fashion taste in the United States versus China, one of my friends had a difficult time explaining the importance of visual appearance in East Asian countries because the only way she knew how to do so was through referencing the phrase, ‘miànzi 面子’ which cannot be directly translated into English.[3] 

This video explains the meaning behind Miànzi面子 , a Chinese word that describes one’s dignity or reputation in social contexts. (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JJ0VSub_7JQ).

Seeking help from my other friend in interpreting the phrase’s meaning accurately, neither girl was able to do so, leaving me in a state of confusion and dismay. In that moment, I simply wished I were born into the same culture as my friends in order to understand the phrase entirely in the same way that they did—something that can be explained by a human need to understand the unknown to maintain a sense of order. Once we exchange our ideas and realize that they not only clash, but it is difficult to understand why this clash exists, the overwhelming sense of confusion and frustration that ensues is intensified by the human need to overcome such barriers. It is the near impossibility of fully overcoming these barriers of miscommunication, due to the limitations of the human mind, that is the core reasoning behind how dangerously unruly this miscommunication can become.

If Ai cannot overcome something as seemingly simple as a communication barrier, how can he possibly achieve something as grand as interstellar peace?

The great limitations of language and the intensified situations of chaos and danger that ensue over the course of the novel are even foreshadowed as Ai’s first instance of culture clash through miscommunication with Estraven causes him to internalize the degrading preconceived notions Estraven and successive individuals from visited foreign regions, such as King Argaven, project onto him. Such is illustrated as Ai states, “I began to think that an inept and undefended alien should not demand reasons from the prime minister of a kingdom above all when he does not and perhaps never will understand the foundations of power…and shifgrethor—prestige…the untranslatable and all important principle of social authority in Karhide and all civilizations of Gethen” and in light of such overexposed reproach such as emphasized inferiority through the repeated use of the word “alien,” he begins to see the absurdity in his own speech (11). Thus, by way of feeling dehumanized in the face of another culture by their standards, solely for his ignorance and ‘ineptitude’ in not understanding the essence of a phrase vital to Gethenian culture, ‘shifgrethor,’ Ai internalizes this to such an extent that he begins to question his own sense of identity and the validity in his mission for peace altogether. If he cannot overcome something as seemingly simple as a communication barrier, how can he possibly convince Gethen to join an interstellar alliance and achieve something as grand as interstellar peace?

We are made to face the intensified sense of growing frustration and chaos that arises from fear, which is the universal root element of power and the existence of language parameters themselves, especially when King Argaven meets with Ai. Attempting to negotiate a peaceful alliance between the Ekumen and the nations of Gethen, he does not speak neither the “tongue spoken by those who rule men,” as there is no answer to questions of alliances in this language nor “of war [as] there’s no word for it in Karhidish,” portraying the belligerent nature of language and the truth of this nature underlined when coming face-to-face with other languages (20-21). Just the fact that the Karhidish language doesn’t have a word for war further shows the systematic effort of language to create a false sense of order within one’s mind in distraction from the natural state of disarray. King Argaven snaps at Ai’s respectful and genuine attempts at communication with a brusque “Are they all as black as you?” and a cathartic vocalization of his fear-mongering political agenda stating “I fear the bitter truth….You are what you say you are, yet you’re a joke, hoax. There’s nothing in between the stars but void and terror and darkness, and you come out of that all alone trying to frighten me….Fear is king!” (23-24). As the very notion of human existence is born and feeds from selfishness, power hunger manifests itself as an undying pledge to survival. Here, King Argaven acknowledges the fact that the various and interchangeable parameters of language allow for multiplicity of truths, as it is true that Ai may fit under his language’s defined set of standardized characteristics proving what he says he is, yet also true that he is no longer what he says he is under the the domain of the King’s nation’s language. Working hand in hand, he then delves into the idea of fear of the truth, meaning the true entropic state of the universe.

It is far easier to notice a stark difference in worldviews and language than to enter the murky waters of ambiguity that disrupts our sense of order in the world.

It is this such fear of all that encompasses chaos and disorder in the world we live in, including the unknown, irregularity, the unexpected and the pain and danger associated with such that pushes us to venture out, radiate our own fear through instilling fear in others, and perpetually attempt to harness and maintain a firm grasp on and do everything in one’s power to prepare for this chaos. Thus, we find ourselves unconsciously searching for and finding differences in one another and everything around us in order to avoid surprises and detrimental consequences that start from simple confusion at all costs—to preserve a neatly wrapped neurological sense of order in our minds. When this phenomenon is applied to human language, it is worth noting that the magnitudes of intensity in confusion and frustration become so frightening and painful to bear, that we would rather simply accept the fact that language barriers exist than get to the bottom of the disarray and unsettling tension that forms from miscommunication. It is far easier to notice a stark difference in worldviews and language than to enter the murky waters of ambiguity that disrupts our sense of order in the world. The manifestation of the paradoxical parameter of language can therefore be seen as universally established, core representation of our differences, seen as a threat to our eternal struggle for sustaining order and survival.

An intellectual crutch, the very creation, growing development and learning of language itself brings ourselves further and further from the incomprehensible level of abstraction found in the basis for its creation in the first place. American linguist, cognitive scientist, and philosopher, Noam Chomsky, however, would argue, through his theory of Universal Grammar, that we are all born with an innate knowledge of grammar that acts as the foreground for language acquisition, in which its specific sets of structural rules can be used to communicate with those speaking various languages freely. Due to our brains having an unconscious predisposition for deciphering whether a sentence is correctly formed, humans are born with a natural ability to acquire language. (Dubuc, “Chomsky’s Universal Grammar).

UNIVERSAL GRAMMAR: the theory that we are all born with an innate knowledge of grammar that acts as the foreground for language acquisition.

An interview with Noam Chomsky explaining Universal Grammar. (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xfiHd6DyuTU).

Chomsky’s Universal Grammar fails to acknowledge that fact that despite a universal affinity for deciphering language in humans, there is no universal default language that everyone can communicate with. 

For example, our ability to immediately notice that the sentence “Julie eats bananas the” is grammatically incorrect in English points back to a universal sense of grammar rules found in every language, that we all innately have. Although mental grammar is not necessarily the same for all languages, “according to Chomskyian theorists, the process by which, in any given language, certain sentences are perceived as correct while others are not, is universal and independent of meaning” (Dubuc). Thus, regardless of the language spoken, Chomsky claims that we are unified by the same innate ability to acquire understanding of language due to an innate perception of grammar.

Although there may be a valid point to be made about an innate affinity for language in humans to a certain extent, Chomsky fails to acknowledge the fact that such an ideal mechanism for achieving some sort of breakthrough in miscommunication and coexistence between different cultures is simply unattainable, as there is no universal default language that everyone can communicate with. This can be better understood with the Sapir-Whorf Hypothesis[4], which is a theory first developed by linguist Edward Sapir in 1929 and later expanded on by his student Benjamin Whorf, that an individual’s actions and thoughts are determined by the language that individual speaks (“Ask a Linguist FAQ”). Due to the harsh truth that the human sense of reality is filtered and understood through a specific language that acts as a means of expression for a cultural society, one cannot find a true identical match between different languages themselves and the social reality they create. It is the reality of this stark contrast between individuals’ worldviews that Chomksy overlooks that underlies the main reason for the inevitability of harsh miscommunication and dangerous conflict between different individuals.

SAPIR-WHORF HYPOTHESIS: an individual’s actions and thoughts are determined by the language that individual speaks

“It’s extremely hard to separate the innate differences from the learned ones” (Chater and Christiansen 116).

In the article “The Myth of Language: Universals and the Myth of Universal Grammar” by Morten H. Christiansen and Nick Chater, which explores the connection between universal grammar and language universals as well as their arbitrary basis, the authors argue that “language is best viewed as the product of cultural evolution, not biological evolution…shaped by multiple constraints” (452). They also state that despite there being some “similarities between pairs of individual languages, there is no single set of features common to all languages” (453). Furthermore, due to the very structure of language being based off of accepted assumptions and its “learning merely requir[ing] that each new generation agrees with the previous generation,” we do not have the means to extrapolate the web of assumptions created to build such a higher order structure, as it is beyond our ability to comprehend. Thus, “It’s extremely hard to separate the innate differences from the learned ones” (116). We can see this frustration expressed in many science-fiction novels and movies, where a primary issue is that of deciphering between, for example, a human and a human-like individual from another planet, due to the overlap in many visual and emotional characteristics. We are thus made to question what truly makes and defines us as ‘human’? The answers to this question are continuously altered from person to person, as there is no one true answer, yet, the question more importantly prompts us to in turn view foreign cultures as truly separate, even as far as inhuman. It can be said that there is a two-way relationship between ignorance and the institution of language as its creation creates the circumstances for distinction between cultures and the hypervigilance towards it. Thus, the ignorance and gap in knowledge towards the string of assumptions building all language itself feeds into the fear we have of discovering the unknown associated with languages outside our repertoire and the ignorance of outside cultures that ensues. Furthermore, it is this same fear that explains the innate human tendency to act out irrationally and chaotically when we reach a point of misunderstanding and inability to understand one another—something that can be viewed unconsciously as a threat to one’s survival and sense of order, eventually escalating into fits of violence and destruction.

Depicted in many science-fiction works, a primary question as to what defines ‘human’, has no one true answer, prompting us to view foreign cultures as truly separate—even as far as inhuman.

Le Guin showcases the helpless human striving for order and complete understanding of the world with ‘mindspeech’, a concept of telepathic communication in the novel that Ai propagates to Estraven and the individuals he comes across whilst travelling region to region, where it is impossible to lie. As mindspeech relies on similar principles of an innate Universal Grammar, we begin to witness just how difficult it is for Estraven to meet at the same conceptual point, even when trying to communicate through the same medium. Initially hopeful and faithful in the success of mindspeech as a tool for easy communication on an equal level in order to deepen their understanding of one another, Ai’s efforts to break through the language barriers between him and Estraven ultimately fail. In discussion regarding the difficulty for Estraven in properly learning and utilizing mindspeech, Estraven notes of a possibility in “my species lack[ing] the capacity,” to which Ai adds that this “capacity [is]…a product of culture, a side effect of the use of the mind, [and]…exist[s] on a certain plane of complexity” (122). It is this culturally immersed plane of complexity that language builds itself upon and the persistent game of tug-of-war between languages that creates an even greater sense of chaotic confusion. So caught up in trying to shape each other’s language as to resemble their own and producing an inert rupture in the air with the utterance of words, Ai loses his chance to take action in preventing his beloved Estraven from running to the border and into the hands of death via guards’ gunshots. Even in his last moments on page 138, the duel of communication between the two ultimately collapses into a chaotic “crying out through the silent wreck and tumult of his mind as consciousness lapsed, in the unspoken tongue” as a transfer of tense, entropic energy transferring into crazed, silent state of mind.

Even when trying to communicate through the same medium of ‘mindspeech,’ a form of telepathic communication,…Ai’s efforts to break through the language barriers between him and Estraven ultimately fail. 

We can ultimately see in multiple instances throughout the novel, how truly chaotic this miscommunication between varying languages can become, as it causes a tumultuous state of mind that can lead to destruction, violence, and near warfare. For example, it greatly contributes to Ai’s descent into danger through the narrow-minded inhabitants of visited planets, and administration of widespread Gethenian cruel and unusual punishment in the form of gulag-like Kundershaden Prison, and silent madness. Estraven’s vile demand that “banished men should never speak their native tongue [as] it comes bitter from their mouth,” labeling Ai as a “tool of a faction,” and candid warning of Ai’s life being put in danger, thrown without any explanation thereafter, drives Ai into a self-defeating state of dread and turmoil, feeling “cold…on my own, alien and isolate, without a soul I could trust” (66-67). He thus begins to question the validity of his own identity under the judging glares of other languages and cultures, internalizing preconceived notions of the parasitic nature multiple foreign envoys visiting outside countries and planets and trying to avoid fulfilling these stereotypes by disclosing that “their sky was full of my junk” (70).

We are in fact plagued by the misunderstanding of our inability to understand, fearing our own fear, reaching for that which is greatly beyond our realm of senses.

Furthermore, it is the imbibing of fear into the foundation language and its resulting discriminatory acts that ultimately drive the xenophobic power figures of Orgoreyn to inexplicably thrown into a gulag-inspired death camp named Kundershaden Prison. The chilling, deafening silence and mental disarray is described in the scene as follows:

“They did not understand; they did not complain. They did not protest being locked up in a cellar by their fellow-citizens after having been shot and burned out of their homes. They sought no reasons for what had happened to them. The whispers in the dark, random and soft, in the sinuous Orgota language that made Karhidish sound like rocks rattled in a can, ceased little by little. People slept. A baby fretted a while, away off in the dark, crying at the echo of its own cries” (57)

Here, it may seem that ignorance and outward stoicism breeds content as the inevitable entropic crescendo in the clashing of multiple opposing languages runs its course to no avail, as if it had never emerged. In actuality, however, each refugee represents the baby—the quintessential victim to the base, shackling desires of human nature, hopelessly bound to a state of fretful pawing for the perceived token of understanding, perpetually gnawing at the air in hopes of obtaining true serenity. They are in fact plagued by the misunderstanding of our inability to understand, fearing our own fear, reaching for that which is greatly beyond our realm of senses.

The collaboration between the helpless, fear-driven human condition and the limits of language itself intensify this mental state of turmoil, which then manifests itself through observable actions such as war, violence, and destruction.

Furthermore, it is when we attempt to understand that we have already failed, trying to prove that which cannot be proven. This perpetuates our insatiable craving in that which is beyond ourselves, as even if we were to theoretically grasp complete understanding, we would ultimately be unconvinced by the final achievement we have slaved for, plunging us down once again into the relentless race for glory within ourselves. It is the barrier of misunderstanding, the entropic box of blindness that begs to be broken and pieced back together, entranced in a cyclic state of tear and repair, as we secretly seek for that which prevents us from completion.

The third example of magnified chaos can be seen through the silent madness that occurs as Ai asks the Foretellers whether Gethen will become a member of the Ekumen in five years. The omnipotent wrath of language structure manages to slither its way into overpowering silence, as the Foretellers sit connected in a circle formation and intertangling Ai into their “spiderweb [of] wordless, inarticulate, [communication], the web of force, of tension, of silence, gr[owing]” (35). The silence gradually solidifies into a perfectly planned and woven stillness that instills a controlling chokehold leading to chaos on those that step into its path. As his inherent biological tendency to segregate oneself from that which is perceived to be different and dangerous causes him to “keep out of contact with the minds of the Foretellers,” he soon finds that:

“When I set up a [linguistic] barrier, it was worse: I felt cut off and cowered inside my own mind obsessed by hallucinations of sight and touch, a stew of wild images and notions, abrupt visions and sensations all sexually charged and grotesquely violent, a red-and-black seething of erotic rage….wounds, hellmouths, I lost my balance, I was falling…If I could not shut out this chaos I would fall indeed, I would go mad, and there was no shutting it out” (35).

This shows the inevitability of reaching madness associated with miscommunication and confusion, as it is characteristic of the natural entropic state of the universe. In fact, the very awareness of our avoidance of this madness through implementation of structure ensues and amplifies the chaotic madness itself. It can thus be said that the collaboration between the helpless, fear-driven human condition and the limits of language itself intensify this mental state of turmoil, which then manifests itself through observable actions such as war, violence, and destruction.[5]

The science fiction film, Arrival, tells the chilling story of a linguistics professor who is recruited by the U.S. army to find a way to communicate with extraterrestrial visitors before tensions lead to war—a feat that puts both her life and the rest of mankind in danger (IMDb). (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qd8zT1YAUck).

To expand on the fear-infused structure of language, one must understand that our brain creates a false sense of order as a blockade from the truth—the truth of language and the words that escape our mouths everyday being based off of unpinpointable assumptions, as well as the truth of the universe’s natural entropy. This births ignorance, which we deem as blissful but in reality results in a harder blow from the results of such ignorance, seen through race wars created by misunderstanding and misconstrued words. We, as stated by philosophy professor Corey Anton, “cannot be certain what is separate from or unified with something else, as language…divides what is not, in fact, separate.” In turn, we are cursed with a counter-intuitive, intrinsic tendency to dissect and eliminate the existence of ambiguity to find clarity. This illusive construction of clarity, however, brings us closer to an inclination to oversimplify and overgeneralize out of a deep need to feel grounded and a sense of expectation in the world to fit into the patterns and molds our brain has set up for us as a safety net. It is out of this overgeneralization and the associating “desire to ‘authoritatively disambiguate’ the world and existence [that] has led to numerous ideologies and historical events such as genocide” (Anton). It is the peaceful tranquility of unity in ambiguity that lessens the worry and intensity of chaos expressed in singling, as we cannot be hypervigilant to what is deemed as the same.

AMBIGUITY: an indefinite or unclear expression or meaning (Dictionary.com)

By instilling sameness, ambiguity inserts a pacifier of sedation into our minds and we are no longer concerned with distinction between what we know and don’t know, what is proven or disproven, as “nothing is proved or disproved.” Yet alas, language merely highlights our need to “walk forward troubling the new snow, proving and disproving, asking and answering”(Le Guin 80). Therefore, linguistic structure is a momentary lapse from natural chaos, a temporary distraction from a default chaotic state, a veil for the wound, the masking of a perpetually leaking boat lost at sea.

Just how powerful and dangerous can language and the natural inclinations of mankind can truly become?

All in all, one must understand that human language is far more complex than meets the eye—for reasons that are not immediately thought of. Ursula Le Guin’s science fiction novel, The Left Hand of Darkness, not only makes us question the origins of human language, it opens our eyes to how truly powerful and dangerous language can be. Something so seemingly natural to us, orderly, and universal, as Noam Chomsky’s theory of Universal Grammar would suggest, it is the imperfect and limited structure of language itself, that when considered with the helplessly unruly human condition that, is the basis for how truly chaotic miscommunication can become between two culturally different individuals. Le Guin’s novel ultimately serves as allegorical platform for the idea that the structural institution of language so deeply rooted into every society and worldview, encourages conflict between different cultures that is far more chaotic and dangerous than at a glance. It is a verbal tension and miscommunication that goes far beyond harmless everyday discourse. It is one that is fueled by a fear-stricken drive of mankind, and is the basis for hostility, violence, and warfare in the novel, as well as in the very world we live in. By no means am I trying to assert that we shall drop all efforts to communicate and reason through our cultural and linguistic differences with one another. I am instead trying to allow one to ask themselves: Just how powerful and dangerous can language and the natural inclinations of mankind can truly become?

[1] As defined in Mary Clark’s book, In Search of Human Nature, worldviews are “beliefs and assumptions by which an individual makes sense of experiences that are hidden deep within the language and traditions of the surrounding society.”

[2] Solipsism is a philosophical idea that the mind is the only thing that can be known to exist. In this context, I am focusing on the epistemological solipsism, which argues that knowledge of anything outside one’s own mind is unclear, and other minds and the outside world cannot be known outside of one’s own mind (Thornton, 1). My reference to this idea does not mean that I completely support this idea in its entirety. Instead, I am acknowledging how difficult it is to understand thoughts and perspectives of other humans, let alone of individuals from other cultures, and how this translates to solipsistic-like qualities in humans.

[3] Miànzi 面子 is a Chinese word that describes one’s dignity or reputation in social contexts. The fact that mianzi is often misinterpreted as narcissism in the United States rather than something that is given to someone, “mark[s] a significant difference with the Western view of social status” (Kim, 1).

[4] The Sapir Whorf Hypothesis consists of a strong version, which asserts that language determines thought and action, and a weaker version, which asserts that language merely influences thought and decisions. In my argument, I am gravitating towards the latter, however, this does not ignore the fact that language’s influence on thought and decision is quite profound and is the primary basis for understanding these thoughts and behaviors.

[5] A famous example of how linguistic misunderstanding or the misinterpretation of a word cost the lives of thousands of people is the “Mokusatsu Mistake.” In July of 1945, leaders from the United Kingdom, United States, Russia, and China had submitted a declaration of surrender terms to Japan, hoping that Japan would surrender unconditionally to avoid “prompt and utter destruction.” Japan’s prime minister, Kantaro Suzuki, who was awaiting a formal decision, used the Japanese word ‘mokusatsu’ to mean he was withholding comment. Since the word has multiple meanings, many quite different from that which Suzuki intended. With international news agencies wrongly interpreting the word to mean “not worthy of comment,” U.S. officials were offended by the perceived tone of his statement, and within ten days decided to drop the atomic bomb on Hiroshima, costing 80,000 innocent lives (NSA.gov, “Mokusatsu: One Word, Two Lessons).