Kept in Mind
Language in Our Brain: The Origins of a
Uniquely Human Capacity
by Angela Friederici
The M.I.T. Press, 304pp., USD$45.00.
by Angela Friederici
The M.I.T. Press, 304pp., USD$45.00.
https://inference-review.com/article/kept-in-mind
Juan Uriagereka is a linguist at the University of
Maryland.
[[All
emphasis below is mine. D.G.]]
ANGELA
FRIEDERICI is the
director of the Max Planck Institute for Human Cognitive and Brain Sciences in
Leipzig. An internationally renowned neuropsychologist, she is known as well
for her expertise in linguistics. Language in Our Brain thus
offers an insider’s account of the play between language and the neurosciences.
In his endorsement, David Poeppel describes her book as a “masterful summary of
decades of work on the neurobiological foundations of language.” He goes on to
remark that it “develops a comprehensive account of how this most complex of
human computational functions is organized, providing a detailed and lucid
perspective on the neuroscience of language.”1
In Language in Our Brain,
we are dealing with an obviously important book.
Drums and Symbols
AFTER
STUDYING Alexis
St. Martin’s stomach through a gastric fistula in the 1820s, US Army surgeon
William Beaumont determined that digestion is more chemical than mechanical.
Muscular contractions of the stomach mashed his patient’s food, but it was the
stomach’s gastric acid that dissolved it. Beaumont is today known as the father
of gastric physiology, if only because two centuries ago, physicians had no idea how digestion worked.
At the beginning of the twentieth century,
Santiago Ramón y Cajal advanced the daring hypothesis that neurons form a
discrete lattice. If neurons are discrete, synaptic transmission follows
inevitability. One neuron can do little, after all, and if many neurons can do
more, they must be in touch with one another. This is precisely the conclusion
that Cajal drew.
In 1906, Cajal shared the Nobel Prize with
Camillo Golgi, who argued that the brain comprises a single continuous but
reticulated network. Cajal was correct and Golgi wrong. Or so it seems today.
In the mid-1950s, Noam Chomsky solidified
theoretical syntax. Thinking in general, and language in particular, he argued,
boils down to symbolic manipulation—a perspective known as the computational
theory of mind. It is a point of view deeply indebted to the work undertaken by
the great logicians of the 1930s: Kurt Gödel, Alonzo Church, Alan Turing, and
Emil Post. For all the sophistication of their ideas, surprisingly simple
questions remain. Which part of our brain carries information forward in time? No
one knows. For that matter, no one knows what a symbol is, or where
symbolic interactions take place. The formal structures of linguistics
and neurophysiology are disjoint, a point emphasized by Poeppel and David
Embick in a widely cited study.2 There
is an incommensurability between theories of the brain, TB, and theories of the mind, TM. This is the sort of granularity issue that
concerned Poeppel and Embick. TM deals with
formal devices and how they interact, while TB deals with
waves of different frequencies and amplitudes, and how they overlap in time
sequences across brain regions. In the absence of a common vocabulary and
conceptual space, TM and TB are, at best, conceptual strangers. Are
they elementarily equivalent, or is one an extension of the other? Do they
share a common model? Is there a mapping between them such that one is
interpretable in the other? Language in Our Brain does
not attempt explicitly to ask such questions. It is worth considering whether
they have answers, and if not, whether they are correctly posed.
Friederici takes linguistics seriously, and
this is all to the good. Few neuropsychologists have studied how sentences
break down into phrases, or how words carry meanings, or why speech is more
than just sound. No one has distinguished one thought from another by
dissecting brains. Neuroimaging tells us only when some areas of the brain
light up selectively. Brain wave frequencies may suggest that different kinds
of thinking are occurring, but a suggestion is not an inference—even if
there is a connection between certain areas of the brain and seeing, hearing,
or processing words. Connections of this sort are not nothing, of course,
but neither are they very much. Is this because techniques have not yet
been developed to target individual neurons? Or is it because thinking is
more subtle than previously imagined?
We may not figure this out within our
lifetimes.
There have historically been many theories that
rival the computational theory of mind. In his famous review of B. F.
Skinner’s Verbal Behavior, Chomsky
demonstrated that no such theory could explain the fact that human language is
compositional, representational, and recursive.3 It
is within the space marked by the computational theory of mind that these
properties receive an explanation. Progress is slow. Language
in Our Braintalks of information or representations, but the
corresponding entries are not in the glossary or index. The book says little
about them. When Friederici writes about the “fast computation of the
phonological representation,” an obvious inferential lapse is involved.4 Some
considerable distance remains between the observation that the brain is doing
something and the claim that it is manipulating various linguistic
representations. Friederici notes the lapse. “How information content is
encoded and decoded,” she remarks, “in the sending and receiving brain areas is
still an open issue—not only with respect to language, but also with
respect to the neurophysiology of information processing in general.”5
At the Limits of Neuroimaging
ANY
DISCUSSION about
language and the brain must be focused on human language,
and throughout her book Friederici assumes that something like the minimalist
program is its underlying theory. Minimalism is a streamlined version of
generative grammar, and it is precisely because of this
theoretical streamlining that finding syntax within the brain is even possible.
Neuroimaging techniques depict the brain as it digests information. This is
material that Friederici handles expertly. The techniques that she describes
yield a variety of markers typically signaling time in milliseconds, and the
electrophysiological polarity in the signal. There has been some progress in
determining precisely where what is taking place takes place. Overall
oscillation packages in brain waves can also be studied through some of the
same techniques. Even more recent techniques allow the analysis of
neurotransmitters or even single neurons. The results suggest the existence of
neural pathways connecting brain regions, or representational networks.
“[E]ven during task-dependent functional
magnetic resonance imaging,” Friederici acknowledges, “only about 20 percent
of the activation is explained by the specific task whereas about 80 percent of
the low frequency fluctuation is unrelated.”6 A
lot is going on at any given time within a given brain, and experimenters have
to ingeniously subtract what is irrelevant from whatever task is observed. This
is familiar enough from daily life. We do many things at once. With present
technology, there is no way to determine what each neuron is
doing at any given moment, or whether neuronal teams are firing together to
perform a given task. Below a millisecond, sensing techniques yield noise.
Cognitive scientists cannot say how the mass or
energy of the brain is related to the information it carries. Everyone expects
that more activity in a given area means more information processing. No one
has a clue whether it is more information or more articulated
information, or more interconnected information, or whether, for that matter,
the increased neuro-connectivity signifies something else entirely. Friederici remarks:
The
picture that can be drawn from the studies reviewed here is neuroanatomically
quite concise with respect to sensory processes and those cognitive processes
that follow fixed rules, namely, the syntactic processes. Semantic processes
that involve associative aspects are less narrowly localized.7
And then there are event-related potential
effects, or stereotyped electrophysiological responses to a stimulus:
Acoustic
processes and processes of speech sound categorization take place around 100 ms
(N100). Initial phrase structure building takes place between 120 and 250 ms
(ELAN), while the processing of semantic, thematic, and syntactic relations is
performed between 300 and 500 ms (LAN, N400). Integration of different
information types takes place around 600 ms (P600). These processes mainly
involve the left hemisphere.8
Markers like N100, N400, or P600 signal whether
the electrophysiological reading is positive (P) or negative (N). No one knows
what such polarities entail. It is the
functions of brain areas and timeframes,
Friederici assumes, that determine whether something is early or late, anterior
or posterior, lateral or bilateral. If the perception of a signal presupposes
some sensory modality, the modality must swing into action before computation
begins. Language in Our Brain is written in the
expectation, or the hope, that a division of labor into phonetics, morphology,
syntax, semantics, and pragmatics more or less corresponds to the tasks the
brain executes in aggregating representations from more elementary bits.
Minimalism
MERGE
IS THE essential
operation of Chomsky’s minimalism, because it is the simplest way of putting
linguistic items together. “Merge,” Friederici assumes, “has a well-defined
localization in the human brain.”9
Localized? Localized where?
“[I]n the most ventral anterior portion of the
BA 44.”10
The data, Friederici writes, citing Poeppel’s
work, “suggest that neural activation reflects the mental construction of
hierarchical linguistic structures.”11 But
hierarchical linguistic structures are one thing, and Merge is quite another.
It is by being merged that the and ship yield the ship. To go
beyond that to sail the ship involves the
merger of sail and the ship. In what order do these two mergers take
place? The merger of the ship must
take place before that particular ship sets sail because the ship is a phrase, and there is no word to
which sail could have merged within this sentence. Sail the is not a phrase of English.
There is a difference between the temporal
order of events in neurophysiology and the logical order of events in syntax. It is obvious that, in the phrase sail the ship, we first pronounce sail and next the,
with ship coming last. What could it mean to say that I
first merged the and ship, and then merged them with sail? When I have heard or read sail the ship I have encountered sail the… first, and at that point I cannot know
whether what is next is going to be ship, boat, or even skies.
Consider:
- The man sailed the ship.
- [[NP The man ]NP [VP sailed [NP the ship ]NP ]]
Sentence 1a has a subject, the noun
phrase the man, and a predicate, the verb phrase sailed the ship. There is a logical order in which a
sentence like this is assembled, in terms of what grammarians call thematic
relations. Friederici is sensitive to the apparatus of modern syntax. Thematic
relations, she writes, express “the relation between the function denoted by a
noun and the meaning of the action expressed by the verb.”12 It
follows that the relationship between sailed and what
(the) ship denotes
is logically prior to that between what (the) man denotes and the rest of the sentence. In
1b the man sailed the ship. In 1b the ship is merged first, but what is first said
is the man. The speech sequence (as perceived) and
the syntactic sequence (as generated) are at odds.
Generative grammar addresses this sort of
orthogonality by separating competence from performance. Competence reveals
that in 1a Merge works from the bottom up, following the brackets in 1b. That
what is first encountered in speech is the man is a
fact of performance, a matter of parsing. This poses a serious puzzle. Hearing
or reading a sentence is an affair from before to after. It is not bottom up.
Parsing even something as simple as 1a is a gambit. After the phrase the man has been parsed, it is held on a memory
buffer in order to allow the mental parser to concentrate on what comes next,
so as to establish thematic integration. In 1a, that happens to be sailed the ship, but
consider:
- The
man…
- sailed a balloon.
- sailed a kite.
- sailed a space-probe.
These are all sailings, but rather different
actions are asserted for the subject, which is assigned dissimilar thematic
roles depending on information that is only accessed upon parsing the direct
object of each sentence. Neuroimaging cannot possibly determine whether
theta relations are at work in such an elaborate parsing, or whether
considerations of memory and attention are paramount instead. How would one
decide that whatever is going on at BA 44 is Merge, as opposed to, for
instance, the processed phrase being assigned to an active memory buffer?
Merge involves systematic and phrasally complex combinatorial
information, which is why language recognizers routinely invoke such notions as
a memory stack. As far as I can see, present-day
observational technology does not seem capable of teasing apart these different
components of syntax at work, so it seems to me premature to claim that the
observables localize Merge.
The Functional Language Network
THERE
IS evidence,
Friederici suggests, that different neuronal networks support early and late
syntactic processes. These networks are bound together by fiber tracts. There
is also a language network at the molecular level. “Information flows,”
Friederici writes, “from the inferior frontal gyrus back to the posterior
temporal cortex via the dorsal pathway.”13 This
is, of course, inferential: no one has seen information flowing, if only
because no one has ever seen information. But brain events
cohere at different levels into a pattern, which is consistent with what can be
surmised from brain deficits and injuries. A functional language network, if
more abstract than the digestive system, is no less real.
The question is how the thing works; indeed,
the question of what the functional language network might be doing should, in
my view, be subordinated to the distinction between competence and performance.
What the mind must know and what the brain must process are very generally orthogonal. Consider the feat involved in recognizing a
word’s syntactic category, distinguishing transform from transformation and either of those from transformational. The grammatical morphemes -tionand -al come at the
tail of the word. We process words from their onset, trans first, then form,
and finally the suffixes. So what does the mind actually do as it encounters
each of these, in that sequential order?
Faced with such considerations, Morris Halle
and Kenneth Stevens pioneered the concept of analysis by synthesis in 1962.14 Thomas
Bever and Poeppel remind us how this “heuristic model emphasizes a balance of
bottom-up and knowledge-driven, top-down, predictive steps in speech perception
and language comprehension.”15 In
their view, a model integrating the orthogonality of narrow competence-driven
computations and broad performative strategies is computationally tractable and
biopsychologically plausible. In processing transformationalize,
say, the model may make a first-pass prediction upon parsing transform that needs to be adjusted upon
processing -tion, then -al, then -ize.
A functional language network is, no doubt,
playing some kind of role in such processes, but whether the activity that
imaging techniques reveal when our brain entertains these symbolic dependencies
involves the grammarian’s Merge, or something else entirely, no one
really knows. Language in Our Brain begins by quoting Paul
Flechsig: “[I]t is rather unlikely that psychology, on its own, will arrive at
the real, lawful characterization of the structure of the mind, as long as it
neglects the anatomy of the organ of the mind.”16 I
am left wondering whether neurobiology shouldn’t have to take in all
seriousness the central results of cognitive psychology—including the
competence/performance divide—if seeking a lawful understanding of the human
mind.
- MIT
Press, “Language in Our Brain: The Origins of a Uniquely Human
Capacity.” ↩
- David
Poeppel and David Embick, “Defining the Relation between Linguistics and
Neuroscience,” in Twenty-first Century
Psycholinguistics: Four Cornerstones, ed. Anne Cutler (Mahwah:
Lawrence Erlbaum, 2005), 103–20. ↩
- Noam
Chomsky, “A Review of B. F. Skinner’s Verbal Behavior,” Language 35 no. 1 (1959): 26–58. ↩
- Angela
Friederici, Language in Our Brain: The Origins
of a Uniquely Human Capacity (Cambridge, MA: MIT Press,
2017), 20. ↩
- Ibid.,
121. ↩
- Ibid.,
127. ↩
- Ibid.,
82. ↩
- Ibid. ↩
- Ibid.,
4. ↩
- Ibid.,
42. ↩
- Ibid.,
53. ↩
- Ibid.,
237. ↩
- Ibid.,
129. ↩
- Morris
Halle and Kenneth Stevens, “Speech Recognition: A Model and a Program for
Research,” IRE Transactions on Information Theory 8
(1962): 155–59. ↩
- Thomas
Bever and David Poeppel, “Analysis by Synthesis: A
(Re-)Emerging Program of Research for Language and Vision,” Biolinguistics 4, no. 2–3 (2010): 174. ↩
- Angela Friederici, Language in Our Brain: The Origins of a Uniquely Human
Capacity (Cambridge, MA: MIT Press, 2017), v. ↩
Published on March 1, 2019 in Volume 4, Issue
3.