Have you ever found yourself in a situation where you understand every individual word but the sentence still doesn't make sense? Those with experience of building self assembly furniture would probably answer with a resounding yes. Have you come close to tears of frustration when trying to communicate with someone apparently speaks the same language as you? If you have ever had to deal with an overseas call centre the answer is probably yes! For most of us those things may be irritating or even upsetting, but they only happen occasionally and then they are quickly forgotten.
For people with Asperger Syndrome or Autism communication difficulties are a constant challenge. To some extent it is a hidden disability; people with Asperger Syndrome can often be pedantic and obsessive about certain subjects which other people find exhausting or even irritating. They find social interactions difficult because they are not good at reading or predicting situations and they often struggle to interpret emotions or the subtle subtext of what is being said. However these difficulties can be masked to some extent by a wide vocabulary and good linguistic skills, so other people may not realise that the person has not understood. Instead of being understanding, other people can become hostile and angry.
On Saturday I met a 45 year old man who has been the victim of online bullying, because he didn't fit in. He hadn't done anything wrong, he was just a bit obsessive about his favourite subjects which other people found annoying. I felt terribly sad when this chap told me that he knows a lot of people, but he has no friends. We chatted for well over an hour and I realised that he is a very knowledgeable, interesting man who means no harm to anyone. I just want to make a plea from the heart, please don't be too quick to judge people who are a bit different because they may have a hidden disability. It takes all sorts to make a world, and just a little bit of understanding and tolerance makes the world of difference.
I met a really nice man a couple of weeks ago. We had an interesting chat about all sorts of things including trains. He observed that men tend to obsess about things and women tend to obsess about people. That made a lot of sense to me because Robbie notices things such as minor changes if product packaging, bus numbers, car numbers, the design of post poxes and lamp posts, that sort of thing. I hardly ever notice those things, but I notice if someone is wearing odd socks, looks sad, or seems worried, things that Robbie would probably not notice.
Yesterday I received further confirmation that men and women have a different way of looking at things. My son announced to me that his English homework had been to consider gender stereotypes and to analyse the way that Robbie and I use language, then to present his observations to the class. Apparently is caused his teacher considerable amusement when he told the class that I'd told him that men almost always consider their cars (and trains) to be female, but I know for sure that my car is male because it is unreliable and expensive to maintain! He went on to tell the class that our use of language indicated that Robbie is submissive and I am dominant because I use imperatives and Robbie uses tactics such as hedging, fillers and hesitation in response. I have to admit that it feels a bit creepy to think that our use of language gives away so much about us (assuming his observations are accurate) we will have to be more cautious in future!
Having a family member with Asperger Syndrome has taught me many things. One of the most important is to be very clear when giving information or instructions because there is a good chance that the aspie person will take my words literally or focus on just one part of what I said and miss the deeper meaning. Of course I sometimes get it wrong and it leads to some surprising misunderstandings like the time not so long ago when my son was asked to put the bin bag outside. I intended him to take the bin bag from the kitchen and put it in the wheelie bin outside but I didn't say that, so when I went out to the car I found the bin bag sitting in splendid isolation in the front garden. Luckily I found it before the local cats got their claws into it.
Last night I was chatting to Robbie about one of our children and I said "he seems to have taken umbrage because I told him off ......" The look on Robbie's face told me that he was no longer listening to me. After a few moments he repeated the word 'umbrage' several times as if he was exploring the shape and sound of the word. Then he looked up with a satisfied expression and asked if the word had something to do with a humpback bridge. I told him that it was just a phrase that meant the person was displeased because they felt slighted in some way. I had to look up the exact meaning of umbrage in order to tell him that the word had a Latin root and it meant shade, shadow or darkness. The word only survives in English now as the phrase to 'take umbrage'. Robbie told me to stop, he said that I had given him far too much information (now he knows what I have to put up with!) and anyway he preferred his own definition of a humpbacked bridge. No wonder it is so hard to understand him sometimes!
Laura was in the car with me a few days ago and for some reason we got on to the subject of road signs. I gave her one or two examples of signs that make me smile and I confessed to an overwhelming urge to punctuate them correctly. Her school is gradually being rebuilt (the operative word is gradually!) and they have been sharing the site with builders for well over a year. She told me about a sign that she didn't understand and she asked what it meant. The sign in question was 'Heavy Plant Crossing' and I explained that it meant beware of diggers. Laura laughed and said that she'd thought it was something to do with planting trees! She posed the obvious question, why can't they just say what they mean? Maybe it is just tradition, but perhaps it is time to have a rethink. If an intelligent A Level student who speaks English as her first language doesn't understand a warning sign, there is little hope for the many people living and working in our country who are not as familiar with the eccentricities of the English language.
I woke up early this morning because my back was hurting, but I stayed in bed for a while reading and listening to Radio 4. There is a short program called a point of view, this week Clive James spoke about the way that we have to keep messing around with our language. Some of his talk was railway related, perhaps a bit overstated, but thought provoking and amusing. This is part of what he had to say
"Not long ago, at Paddington, I ran to catch a train that was called First. The long version of the name is First Great Western, which is already bad enough because it suggests the possible existence of a Second Great Western. But the First Great Western company insists on referring to itself and its trains as just First.
My problem, as I ran with a heavy bag in each hand from the barrier end of the platform, was to find the first second class carriage in a train all of whose carriages were marked First. I cursed First in the worst language at my command, but my outburst at First was nothing beside the imprecations I rained on One.
Yes, what used to be simply called Anglia Railways is now even more briefly, but far less simply, called One. This leaves the way clear for the railway station announcer to inform potential passengers that one One train will leave from platform two and the other One train will leave from platform three.
If the first One train leaves at twenty to one it's the twenty to one One train and if the other one leaves at ten to one it's ten to one on that it's the one One train one actually wanted but one couldn't understand the announcement.
What happens when you have to change from a First train to a One train I leave to you, but you might face a situation where you should catch the first First train if you want to change to the one One train that will get you to the mental hospital before you crack up.
Except, of course, that it's never now called a train, it's called a service, just as the passenger is now a customer. Linguistic philosophers have already written theses about how the vocabulary of marketing has invaded the realm of transport, which logically should have no need of marketing, because people know exactly what they want and demand nothing except for the means of transport to be safe, clean and on time.
But the language of marketing spreads inexorably because it gives those who use it a chance to be creative, which everybody has been taught is a desirable thing to be.
In fact, the last thing that a passenger who has already been outraged by being called a customer wants to hear when he is sitting, or probably standing, in a train running late, or probably not running at all, is a voice on the public address system calling the train a service, when providing a service is exactly what it is currently in the process of not doing.
Nor does the voice on the public address system show any sign, once it gets started, of wanting to shut up. The voice supplies the information that the buffet car is situated in the middle of the service, for the benefit of anyone who thought that it might be travelling along separately some way behind the service. The voice apologises for the delay caused to your journey, a way of softening the fact that the delay had been caused, not to your journey, but to you.
The voice continues to audition for a career in broadcasting by pointing out that the first One service to arrive at the next station will be the last One service to continue any further until the engineering works have been completed. Where did all this start? Well, it probably started when the name British Railways contracted to British Rail
