On the importance of learning linguistically distant languages

When I was little, I was absolutely obsessed with Marco Polo, but not for the typical reasons that history buffs might assume. I wasn't particularly hooked on the fact that he had crossed continents without the comfort of rapid transportation, nor how he skillfully maintained an intercultural friendship with the Kublai Khan, the most powerful man of his time. Rather, I was in awe of how he acquired four foreign languages (Mongolian, Persian, Arabic, and Turkish) that were not only genetically unrelated to his native Franco-Venetian, but also considerably distant from one another. Sure, I suppose people who lived by ports in the middle ages were exposed to foreign languages for the needs of trade, and thus somewhat more aware of how to learn them. But in an age where the Internet wasn't a thing and foreign language learning resources were scarce, we can all agree that's pretty impressive. 

More than a decade later, I still find myself contemplating the art of learning distant languages. I really appreciate people who learn a language far from home, as it takes quite the effort indeed. That overwhelming feeling of seeing 3000 Chinese characters to internalise. The struggle when trying to rebuild an entire vocabulary system from scratch. The patience needed to re-learn and re-grasp grammatical concepts that may contradict much of what you once knew about languages. It isn't a straightforward journey, and not many make it to the end for the lack of time, resources, or stamina.

Now that we live in an era way past Marco Polo's time, the learning of distant languages is seen in a new light, and it is time to properly revisit why linguistic distance, albeit challenging to overcome, can lead to great heights.

The first reason to think so pertains to the philosophy of second language education -- something that sadly isn't much discussed in educational linguistics due to its relatively abstract nature. Learning a linguistically distant language brings forth the idea of rebirth. It reminds us of the sheer diversity and extent of human creativity, that there are infinite ways to order a phrase, to sound out ideas, to conceptualise an object, to design a word. And although it isn't possible for languages to be equal politically and economically, each language is a witness of a society's experience with the world over the centuries and in that regard, no language is superior to another. The learning of linguistically distant languages often draws forth critical engagement of a culture that is presumably vastly different from one's own, prompting one to venture out of her cultural comfort zone and read humanity with refreshed lens. With all that, there is hope that by learning a linguistically distant language, people come to be a little more humble, and a little more understanding of cultures that they may be blindly biased against otherwise.

Beyond philosophy, science is another window through which we can observe the benefits of learning distant languages. Although bilingual benefits do manifest regardless of L1-L2 similarity levels, there is reason to believe that the new variety of structures, sounds, and vocabulary stimulates the brain in infinite ways that we do not know much about at present. For an L1 Spanish speaker, auditory processing would be 'spicier' when learning Cantonese (as compared with learning, for example, Portuguese) due to its tonal nature. The complexity of Polish case structures and conjugations also calls for high levels of reaction speed if, let's say, a Japanese learner were to produce accurate sentences under intense time pressure. A seemingly off-tangent but thought-provoking analogy is as such: if varying our choices of fruits and veggies can lead to more balanced physical health, then perhaps acquiring a varied repertoire of structures from vastly different languages can similarly constitute a 'healthy linguistic diet' to train our cognitive health.

Lastly, looking at the question with a more practical lens, it seems like social scientists have been especially keen on understanding the role of language in the economy. There is the observation that wherever linguistic distance exists between two countries, language learning is delayed and so would international trade. Global migration, whether it be through voluntary or involuntary (i.e., refugees) means, often necessitate the learning of a new, genetically unrelated language. Although I problematise some social scientific viewpoints of linguistic distance being a 'burden', I concur that being able to navigate the distant target language is crucial for migrants to acquire the local language and achieve that first key step towards social adaptation.

And the list continues. With an expanding understanding of the natural and social sciences, we are fortunate to build an ever-growing repertoire of healthy (or well, partially practical) reasons to engage with tongues and letters far from home. I am convinced that engaging with linguistic distance would bring us good, in a qualitative more than a quantitative sense. I hope for more people to appreciate and practice this idea, as it is the start of creating a great vibe for humanity. And I'm sure Marco Polo would agree.