Until recently, the US was considered the main "underachiever" of BANA. But the latest data shows that Britain has every chance of ending up at the bottom. "Little England wants the whole world to speak English," a British newspaper once wrote. Little England seems to have gotten its wish, but... Today the most widespread language in the world is bad English. Corruption is the inevitable fate of any language that aspires to be international, a lingua franca. Recall what happened to classical Latin when all of medieval Europe began speaking it...
"Underachievers"
But that's only half the trouble. The trouble, British education experts note, is that bad English is boomeranging back to its homeland, that is, to Britain. Native grammar is taught extremely poorly in schools, so many adults still understand what a noun and adjective are, but adverbs and prepositions already cause them bewilderment... Of course, it's amusing when the British advocate for the need to distinguish parts of speech: after all, in English they practically don't exist; it's a purely logical category, not a grammatical one. Here one should wonder what's going on: whether schools genuinely teach English poorly, or whether students are smarter than their teachers and unconsciously resist traditional but externally imposed schemes that are not inherent to the language itself...
However, no one seems to be planning to rewrite English grammar yet. But some Britons claim that Latin helps them better understand both their native language and modern foreign languages. Yes, Latin is now coming into fashion: about 500 British state schools, as well as all private schools, include this subject in their curriculum, and many schoolchildren study it with pleasure.
The same cannot be said for modern foreign languages. Recently, a whole debate erupted in the British media over the Ministry of Education's intention to introduce foreign languages in primary schools instead of compulsory classes in secondary school. "Learning foreign languages seriously enhances the brain's analytical abilities and aids intellectual development," a certain specialist insists. "Try telling that to a class of 15-year-olds on a rainy Friday in Barnsley (a rural English area)," Peter Wilby, former editor of New Statesman magazine, ironically writes in the Guardian. He then calls teaching teenagers a foreign language pure snobbery and the language lessons themselves "agonizing compulsion"... In short, that's that, dear sirs. In fairness, it should be noted that Wilby's article in the Guardian provoked numerous responses from ordinary Britons, for whom the journalist shows such concern. Responses that were biting and even angry, including stinging ones like "A load of rubbish!" and "What an idiot!"
On the other hand, what's the point of teaching a foreign language in primary school if it's removed from the compulsory curriculum in secondary school? Although, in the form that foreign languages are currently taught in Britain, perhaps they should not be taught at all. It would be simpler just to memorize a phrasebook: language lessons in British schools often boil down to memorizing a limited number of phrases at the most basic level. So we should rid ourselves of the inferiority complex caused by not knowing languages: it seems the British are even more hopeless in this regard. And yet, one in three English people report that they know a foreign language. The question is, at what level.
"High Achievers"
The weak command of foreign languages in BANA seems particularly glaring compared to other countries, especially small ones like the Netherlands, Belgium, and Scandinavian countries, where nearly the entire population, besides their native language, knows English, and many also German and French. And countries like Switzerland and Luxembourg, due to their official multilingualism, need not be mentioned.
Of course, in this case we are talking about residents of large (or relatively large) cities: it is unlikely that in the Dutch or Finnish countryside you will meet a farmer who speaks several languages. Nevertheless, the fact remains: there are states where foreign language instruction occupies a leading position in the school curriculum.
At the same time, the polyglot countries do not include France, Germany, or Spain. Meeting someone on the streets of Hamburg or Madrid who speaks English fluently is as problematic as on the streets of Moscow or St. Petersburg. Whatever the British, mired in island complacency, might imagine about this.
But for most urban Dutch, English is practically a second native language. The same goes for Scandinavians. And this is not because they all use language courses: knowledge is acquired at school, university, and in the family.
Does this mean that language teaching in German secondary schools is worse than in Dutch ones? In fact, the standard school curriculum in Germany is no worse than others, and certainly more serious than the British one. But in all countries there are good and bad schools, talented and mediocre teachers, conscientious and less diligent students. I have sometimes met students from German secondary schools who speak Russian (!) almost fluently... "Where did you learn Russian so well, Georg?" — "At school, taught by Mr. Wahl-Aust, our teacher..." If all foreign language teachers were as enthusiastic about their work as this very Mr. Wahl-Aust, a Russian language teacher at a school in Düsseldorf, a real person, then all students would be polyglots!
But a teacher's talent is a rare thing. Therefore, the most important thing is the attitude towards a foreign language, understanding of its necessity in adult life. A Frenchman or a German in any case feels like a full-fledged part of world culture: after all, a substantial contribution to this culture has been made in his native language. The significance of German, French or Spanish for civilization is incomparable with the significance of Finnish or Swedish, with all due respect to the speakers of these languages.
However, Finns and Swedes also have something to say to the world. But in what language? Nobody in the world knows their native language, so they have to switch to English or German. Let's say, this was not necessary for Tove Jansson, Astrid Lindgren or, say, Nobel laureates Selma Lagerlöf or Sigrid Undset. However, do not forget that the headquarters of the Nobel Committee is not in Paris or London... Jokes aside, it is not about outstanding writers, but about ordinary citizens. How many British bands, for example, do you know that sing in Swedish? And Swedish ones that sing in English?
Of course, one should not expect schoolchildren to understand that a foreign language will be useful in life. The category of 'necessity' and 'usefulness' is generally quite abstract for a teenager. So it is useless to appeal to students' conscientiousness if adults themselves do not show this conscientiousness. Why are the Danes all polyglots? Because in Danish gymnasiums, the proportion of language is very large: only mathematics surpasses it in hours. And in schools in Belgium, Iceland, and the Netherlands – mathematics and the native language. And since, despite all the efforts of teachers, communication in lessons is often insufficient to overcome the language barrier, many educational institutions participate in international school exchange programs, giving children the opportunity to study in a language environment. And holiday language camps are very popular, and not only parents but also schools take care of sending children there.
All this goes to show that it is 'small nations' that have very high motivation to learn foreign languages. This is reflected in school curricula. And in recent years, the European Union has become very concerned about language teaching in schools. In particular, a teacher of any official language of the European Union working in a state school in a European country can apply for a grant to pay for a course to improve teaching and language qualifications.
There are also exchange programs for advanced training of foreign language teachers. Using the example of the EU newcomer countries, it is easy to trace the attitude towards learning foreign languages. What 'snobbery' is there when you are a Latvian, Bulgarian, or Estonian, when only a few million people in the world speak your language, and the lion's share of speakers live 'compactly' within the territory of a single country? The hostile attitude of the inhabitants of the former USSR and the socialist camp towards the Russian language has become a byword, a myth, and political chatter. However, everyone knew Russian. And school compulsion had nothing to do with it: the Russian language was, even if murky, still a window to the world. The same English or German, although they were also taught in schools as compulsory subjects, were not windows to the world because the opportunities to use them for a 'socialist camp dweller' were much fewer. Moreover, these languages were taught 'half-heartedly'. That's the whole language policy. And with these countries' accession to the European Union, language priorities changed: today it is easier to communicate with a young Pole or Lithuanian in English than in Russian. Which is natural: the 'windows' to Europe are now cut on the other side.
The 'newcomers' are trying their best to catch up with the 'senior comrades' in terms of teaching foreign languages. For example, in Latvia, the first foreign language (usually the ubiquitous English, but it depends on the school) is introduced from the third grade, and from the sixth grade, a second one is introduced. And one can choose from English, German, French, or Russian.
And what about us? Of course, compared to the situation ten years ago, we are gradually turning into a 'country of polyglots' – many language schools have opened. And in secondary schools, at least in big cities, it seems they are no longer putting a foreign language on the same level of importance as life safety. Still... Let's quote one of the responses to Peter Wilby's article in The Guardian: 'In my opinion, the number of people who can say at least a few words in a foreign language (apart from some words for colors and such) and learned that at school in Britain is no more than one percent. I speak Spanish fluently because I have lived in Mexico for 15 years; in England I have about 200 acquaintances, and any of them can at most mumble a pathetic phrase of poorly chosen words in any language other than their native one, with bad pronunciation. And God help them if a foreigner speaks to them.'
These words, said about the British, don't they remind you of something? And who should we better emulate in terms of language learning – the mighty BANA or little Denmark? By God, the second is preferable. If language proficiency is snobbery, then let us sign up as snobs.
Inna SHULSKAYA. 