A linguist who could not devise a better grammar than is present in any speakerās brain ought to try another trade.
Householder [1], p. 100.
§1. It is the measure of a scholarās achievement that other and lesser scholars should produce whole books debating aspects of his thought. What follows will, I hope, be understood as a compliment to Chomsky in that sense. It is certainly so intended.
§2. As a theorist, Chomsky has made important contributions on two levels.
Firstly, he has tried to clarify the subject matter of linguistics. On this level, the key notions are those of a generative grammar and of the speakerās linguistic competence. A particular grammar is seen as a description of, or a theory about, the competence of speakers of a particular language. A theory of grammar is seen as a theory about the form of linguistic competence in general.
Secondly, he has put forward a specific theory of grammar, or a succession of related theories, conceived in such terms. On this level, the key notions are those of deep and surface structure, of grammatical transformations, and so on.
On a third level, Chomsky has also made important contributions as an English grammarian: for example, in distinguishing patterns with infinitives. (Thus the construction of I persuaded ā versus I expected ā the doctor to examine him.)
A critic must keep these levels separate. Perhaps it is wrong to distinguish such patterns; but the theory of transformations need not be impugned. Or perhaps it is right; but the distinction could be made in grammars without transformations, or which are not generative (for example, in a reference grammar such as that of Quirk and his colleagues [2]). We might reject transformations, but accept Chomskyās account of our goals. We might disagree on goals, but still formulate transformations.
In the past some scholars have looked on Chomskyās theories as a package. A critic might be expected to deal at once with the formal concept of grammar and, for example, with generative phonology. (See a review by Lakoff of Hockettās The State of the Art [3, 4].) This was understandable; for at that time most linguists either agreed or disagreed with Chomsky on all points. But the package can be split up, as divisions among his followers have now made plain.
§3. This book deals with the first level only: in particular with the key terms in its title.
According to Chomsky, a speaker has internalised the rules of a generative grammar. This is his account of what it means to know a language. I will argue that the account is unconvincing. In that respect I would agree in part with certain generative semanticists: for example, with McCawleyās important review of Chomskyās Studies on Semantics in Generative Grammar [5, 6].
But we need not conclude that generative grammars are invalid. A grammar is a partial description of a language; it tells us, in certain terms and within certain limits, what the language is like. One way of telling us is to characterise a set of sentences. In writing a generative grammar we are simply writing a type of grammar which does this.
A grammatical theory specifies the terms in which a particular grammar is written. Let us assume that the same terms should apply to all grammars; then it can be seen as a hypothesis about the features which all languages have in common. Just as a generative grammar is one type of grammar, so a theory of generative grammar is simply one type of grammatical theory.
This says nothing about a generative grammar in the speakerās mind, or a theory of generative grammar in the minds of infants. As grammarians we are not concerned with such issues. Our business is with problems that arise in the investigation of languages. The nature of linguistic competence is the topic of another investigation, for which we wear another hat.
§4. Let us imagine that I am reading this to a group of colleagues. I fear that at this point I may suffer my first interruption.
āBut how can these topics be separated? Linguistics is a science, and a grammar is itself a scientific theory. Chomsky has shown us what it is a theory of ā namely, of the speakerās competence. He has also shown what form a grammar must take to qualify as such a theory ā namely, it must be a generative grammar. That is precisely what such grammars are. A generative grammar is, by definition, a theory of the speakerās competence.ā
This comment would not be surprising, especially from a younger linguist, whose studies may have begun with Chomskyās Aspects of the Theory of Syntax [7]. But that is not the basic definition. By a generative grammar we mean a set of rules which characterises a set of sentences. That is all it meant in Chomskyās earlier writings, including Syntactic Structures [8].
We may distinguish three senses of this term. Basically it designates a type of formal system; let us call this a generative grammar in sense 1. The term is then transferred from the system to its interpretation; so, a theory of the speakerās competence is a generative grammar in sense 2. Finally, it is transferred from the theory to its object; so, the speaker has internalised a generative grammar in sense 3. Between senses 2 and 3 there is an acknowledged ambiguity ā the āsystematic ambiguityā of Chomskyās Aspects [7], p. 25. But senses 1 and 2 must also be separated, the system itself being independent of its application to a putative object.
I am disputing Chomskyās account of what a grammarian is doing. Grammarians are not concerned with generative grammars in sense 2, or theories about a generative grammar in sense 3. They simply describe languages. But in doing so, they may formulate a generative grammar in sense 1.
§5. I fear some hecklers will not be satisfied.
āBut linguistics is a science, as I said. As scientists we adopt a hypothetico-deductive method, proposing theories about some object. So to what object are linguistic data relevant? There is no entity āthe languageā, existing independently of the community that speaks it. What exists are the speakers; their minds are the only object about which a scientific grammar can be formulated.ā
Such reasoning is the curse of twentieth-century linguistics. We assume that our subject is, or must be, a science. We then look to the philosophy of science, or whatever philosophy of science is in mode, to find out what such subjects are. There was once a fashion for reductionism; so linguistics had to be limited to observables. There has since been a rage for the hypothetico-deductive method, especially as a model for the physical sciences. So, we try to make linguistics look like our conception of physics or of chemistry.
āBut are you denying that it is a science?ā
It is not my business to decide how we should use this term. But that a grammarian practises a science in the sense that the objector intends ā yes, of course I deny it.
§6. In writing a grammar we are giving information about a language. So too, for instance, if we write a dictionary. Then is lexicography another such science?
Let us imagine a fool who thought that it was. The Oxford English Dictionary is āon historical principlesā; so, he sees it as a theory of the competence of ideal speaker-hearers, as it has historically developed. (āBut of course it is quite unformalised. Its entries have never been tested by the hypothetico-deductive method.ā) A bilingual dictionary he might see as a theory about the competence of an ideal bilingual. Such nonsense would at once be recognised for what it is.
Yet dictionaries are open to evaluation. We find a definition clear or unclear, right or wrong, to the point or full of irrelevancies. We find that a dictionary is comprehensive, or that words and senses are unjustifiably omitted. We may even use the word āscientificā: thus a dictionary is or is not constructed on scientific principles.
This last remark has nothing to do with natural science. Nor has the notion of a scientific grammar.
§7. Other colleagues might adopt a kindlier view.
āBut naturally there are other goals besides the one which Chomsky has proposed. One is the writing of dictionaries, in part for practical use. There are also practical grammars, and taxonomic grammars for descriptive ends. But all this shows is that different people want to do different things. A molecular biologist does not object to botany on the grounds that it is not molecular biology; he sees them as different subdisciplines. Likewise there are divers goals within linguistics. Both sides must live and let live.ā
First, I did not say that grammars were necessarily what you call taxonomic ā¦
āOK, then you are proposing another goal for generative grammars. Our goal is to understand the nature of a speakerās competence, or of the human faculty of language in general. We argue that this is comparable to the aims of other sciences. You suggest another, perhaps more modest aim, which perhaps is scientific in some other, perhaps more popular sense. Again, let us live and let live.ā
It seems churlish to disagree with someone so reasonable. But, like him, I am interested both in particular languages and in the general understanding of a speakerās ability. So far we have the same goals. But I think it is confusing to treat both at once. At one level grammars are the central topic: we assess alternative concepts of a grammar (thus of a generative grammar in sense 1, or of a grammar which our generativist would call taxonomic); also the merits of particular types, such as a grammar with or without transformations. We will not see these issues clearly unless we free our minds from thoughts of the speakerās competence.
On the other level we will see clearly only if we free our minds from thoughts of grammars. A grammarian tries to make precise and general statements, whose field of application is clear-cut. We have no reason to assume that speakers know their equivalent.
āNor have we any reason, prima facie, to believe not.ā
Of course, this is something about which we might argue. But if we define a grammar as a theory of the speakerās competence (§4, sense 2), requiring of it a refinement of the properties traditionally found in grammars (ibid., sense 1), and then ascribe this theory to the speaker himself (ibid., sense 3), all scope for argument is closed.
Let us think again about the analogy with biological sciences. A man might work both in botany and in molecular biology, or work in one and take an active interest in the other. But he would not pretend that they are the same field. Likewise one may write grammars, or propose grammatical theories, and take an interest in theories of linguistic competence. But we must keep these theories separate; if not, each investigation will mess up the other.
§8. Let us try another analogy, which may perhaps be more helpful.
In Linguistic Form Bazell compares the description of a language to the mapping of a country: it is, he says, āan affair of cutting and smoothingā. āThe problemā, he adds, āis where to cut, and where to smoothā ([9], p. 93). Describing a language is again what I call writing a grammar.
Now, of course, a grammar is not a map in any literal sense. What is the terrain that we could say it covered? But maps do have important properties that grammars also have.
First, there is the obvious problem of selection. In Britain the Ordnance Survey maps distinguish high ground and low ground but not, for example, grassy slopes and scree. These are maps for general purposes: a motoring map may not distinguish high and low ground either. A grammarian, in turn, may distinguish forms in regional but not in social dialects. He might, indeed, say nothing about dialects at all. Only a fool would object in principle to such decisions. (We will meet such a fool in §63.)
We also cut and smooth in representing what we do choose to represent. The map shows a contour line from A to B. But is the ground exactly that height all the way along it? Most likely not: there will be bumps at one place and depressions at another. The grammar has a rule excluding x in such and such constructions. Does that mean that the grammarian has never heard it? No, not necessarily. Again, it is only fools who would object to such operations.
Nor does a map deal with geological theory. Why is there a lake in Cwm Idwal in Caernarvonshire? We know why: it is a classic effect of glaciation. But this is not something we expect a map to tell us. What is the nature of the San Andreas fault in California? Here our knowledge ha...