French, like a fine wine, is complex, nuanced, elegant, and rich with history. Whether you are captivated by its lyrical sounds, its renowned literary tradition, or its role as a lingua franca, learning French is an invitation into a new way of thinking and experiencing the world. But why do we, in an era of instant translation, still feel compelled to learn languages at all?
Before we explore the intricacies of French, it’s worth considering the deeper significance of language learning itself. Why does learning languages matter and is it worth it? Why do we hold languages in such high esteem when every one of us already speaks at least one fluently?
Each of us has our own reasons for studying languages, and we will pursue them with varying degrees of intensity. But if learning a language was only about bridging a linguistic divide, then modern translation tools would have rendered the appeal obsolete. Yet we persist.
There’s undoubtedly a beneficial side to learning languages. The mental gymnastics of switching back and forth between languages is akin to a brain workout that builds cognitive flexibility, improves problem-solving skills and enhances memory.
But the true magic lies elsewhere. The moment we manage to make ourselves understood in a foreign world is a reminder that language is more than just another tool in the vast armoury of human talents.
To learn a language is therefore not merely to acquire a skill, but to step into another consciousness and to experience the world through a different lens. Words are not linguistic relics, but living expressions of culture and identity, constantly evolving with time.
Unlike logical systems, where symbols and operators are precise and consistent, human language is fluid and organic, shaped by use. Translations often struggle to capture the essence of the concepts they describe because language exists at the intersection of thought, perception, and the ways we map meaning onto the world.
This is why, despite the convenience of artificial intelligence, we continue to embark on the painstaking, often humbling, and yet profoundly satisfying journey of learning languages. To learn another language is to dismantle the walls of our linguistic boundaries and rebuild them with new windows that let the light of different perspectives pour in.
Technology may shrink the distances between us, but it cannot replicate the intimacy of speaking to someone in their native tongue. A conversation using translation software may be functional and impressive, but it often feels transactional, even sterile. It lacks the subtle dance of hesitation, the warmth of effort, the vulnerability of getting it wrong, and the triumph of getting it right.
When we learn a language, we do not merely seek to be understood; we seek to belong and to inhabit the world more fully.
In the words of the author Ursula K. Le Guin:
“In most cases of people actually talking to one another, human communication cannot be reduced to information. The message not only involves, it is, a relationship between speaker and hearer. The medium in which the message is embedded is immensely complex, infinitely more than a code: it is a language, a function of a society, a culture, in which the language, the speaker, and the hearer are all embedded.”
Perhaps, then, our desire to learn languages persists not in spite of technological advancement, but because of it. The more we rely on machines to mediate our interactions, the more we crave the authentically human, the irreplaceably organic, the beautifully imperfect nature of unfiltered, unassisted, deeply felt communication. So no matter how sophisticated our translation tools become, learning a language will always be a noble, necessary, and uniquely human pursuit.
