A case against Duolingo

Some ideas from last week’s reading really resonated with me because they embodied what I discovered while learning languages but wasn’t able to express. 

When I studied English in my undergrad, we were given vocabulary lists - sometimes even had to write them down as they were being spoken by the teacher (vocab lists make me feel sick to my stomach to this day). “To go on - that means to continue; to figure something out - meaning, to understand something; to pass - to go past”...

And then I came to the US and heard all these words in real interactions.

• Please go on, - says one of my instructors.
• And he went on, and on, and on! - that’s one of my friends going on a rant about someone.
• I figured it out! - one of my students shouts out, gleefully.
• And then she finally figured it out… - sighs a movie character whose infidelity was discovered by his significant other
• I passed the exam! - boasts another one of my students.
• I think I’m gonna pass - says one of my friends declining an invitation to an event, in a sad voice cracked by a nasty cold she was having.

Same words, different contexts - that’s what many language teachers would say. By context they usually mean the social situation, such as: are you talking about an exam or an event? Are you speaking with a friend? And so on.

What they tend to miss out on is what Vygotsky shows clearly in his writing: In the beginning there is motivation, which spurs thought to action, which takes shape in the meanings of words and finally gets out in words themselves. The motivation element is key: meanings are affective just like our thinking is, and speech is grounded in our communicative goals and emotions. 

“I think I’m gonna pass (on something)” is never said in a happy voice. “I passed the exam!” - is never a lament. Learning words without context gives you building blocks without telling you what you want to build and, most importantly, what buildings are common in that society. 

And yet, situational context is still not enough. When my students asked me: “How do I say X?”, I used to say “It depends on the context”. Then, I realized that they are missing out on the main component of communication - communicative goals. Now I reply to them like this: “What do you want to express? What’s your goal? What is it you want to communicate behind these words?” In other words, I prompt them to think about both the affective and the content components of their thoughts.

And that’s exactly the reason why apps like Duolingo is a waste of time if you want to learn a language for communication. It gives you drills for words, not for meanings and their affective contexts.

Check this out, for example.

Simple sentence, isn’t it? In English it’s fairly common. Now, in Japanese, there are a few things to look out for. First, it’s in the polite style, as shown by the verb form (in Japanese, there is a friendly/neutral style used to talk with friends and a polite style used to talk to strangers and superiors - and an even more polite style to talk who’s even more superior in position or who you respect deeply). Second, there are other ways to say this - for example, 東京からきました (Toukyou kara kimasita - “I came from Tokyo”). Why are we using the polite style in this sentence? Who are we talking to? Why are we using 出身 (“origin”) as opposed to the other way of saying it? What’s my motivation of saying it, and who can I say it to in this form? Is his a common way of saying it? I don’t know. This information is missing in Duolingo. And in Japanese society where social hierarchy is everything, this knowledge is crucial.

Here’s another example: English has only one pronoun to address someone directly: “you”.

Now, the Japanese versions of “you” *taking a deep breath*:

• あなた [anata] (wife to husband, general questions, when talking to those inferior in status or younger);
• name + a special suffix [e.g., イリーナさん, Irina-san] (with various degrees of politeness depending on the suffix);
• name + title in business settings;
• omitting “you” altogether;
• お前 [omae] (between male friends);
• きみ [kimi] (men to those lower in status and, ironically, a sweet “you” that can be used in a couple);
• あんた [anta] (rude in some regions, friendly in others);
• てめえ [temee], きさま [kisama], おのれ [onore] (super angry derogatory “you”; my favorite translation of them in anime subs is “you, bastard”. If you hear someone saying this to you in Japan, run).

In other words, for Japanese people “you” doesn’t exist as a concept but “you, my equal”, “you, my husband”, “you, of a lower status”, “you, of a higher status”, “you, run while you can” do. That’s a very telling illustration of how societal norms shapes the language, and how language keeps shaping societal norms. Ironically, I learned all of it not from textbooks but from watching movies and anime in Japanese, in which the emotional component of characters’ actions are often very explicit.

What’s missing in language teaching is meaningful communication, and I understand why. Outside of the classroom, you can’t survive without talking. You connect to people and you need to find ways to express your thinking. In the classroom, students often can’t choose what to talk about, and they don’t encounter the same deeply emotional situations. I mean, how would you practice angrily arguing with someone over who’s gonna do the dishes tonight?

While important to build the building blocks (I actually love grammar, it’s usually the easiest part), those cannot be sufficient to start building beautiful and efficient buildings.

So, if you teach a language, consider how these ideas can reshape your teaching.

If you are learning a language, drop Duolingo and go watch TV shows, play games, read magazines, listen to podcasts, and, if you can, speak. Enjoy discovering the new world of meanings and reshaping your thinking!