A study of direct and indirect linguistic determinism in Lady Chatterley’s Lover by
D.H. Lawrence, Anthem by Ayn Rand, and Nineteen Eighty-Four by George Orwell
Linguistic determinism is the idea that language and linguistic structure can directly determine human
knowledge and thought, an idea which implies that speakers of different languages have different
thought processes. It is the stronger strain of the Sapir-Whorf hypothesis, the weaker one being
linguistic relativity, which holds only that language can influence thought. Linguistic determinism is a
concept often associated with the work of Ludwig Wittgenstein, who sums it up thus in his book
Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus:
“The limits of my language mean the limits of my world.”
“About what one cannot speak, one must remain silent.”[1]
In its strongest form, the hypothesis holds that a concept cannot exist in someone’s mind if they do
not know the words to represent that concept. Both Nineteen Eighty-Four and Anthem address the
principle of linguistic determinism directly in their presentation of dystopian societies, whilst Lady
Chatterley’s Lover became infamous for its banning by literary censors on the grounds of obscenity and
the 1960 trial that reversed its banning and resulted in a great deal more literary freedom in Britain. I
shall argue that the attempt to ban Lady Chatterley’s Lover was an effort at linguistic determinism on the
part of the government of the time.
Nineteen Eighty-Four and Anthem present two societies in which a central authority attempts to impose its
views upon its subjects through linguistic determinism, though both novels present their respective
societies at different stages of the process. In Nineteen Eighty-Four, the protagonist, Winston Smith, has
the controlled language of Newspeak explained to him as it is in the final stages of being elaborated by
the government. By contrast, Anthem presents a society in the distant future, where linguistic
determinism has fulfilled its aims as far as possible. In its early days, anyone caught using individual
pronouns was put to death, but at the time in which the novella takes place they are completely absent
from the language. This leads the depressingly named protagonist, Equality 7-2521, to see himself as
cursed as he is able to think for himself, a characteristic viewed as unspeakably heretical (literally so) in
the society where absolute submission to the collective trumps any kind of individuality.
Orwell, as a socialist, believed at least to some extent in a society in which the common good was to be
prioritised over individual self-interest. What he did not believe in was a society in which all individuals
were to obey the State with a capital S at all costs. Nineteen Eighty-Four was written at the height of
Stalinism in the USSR and was an attempt at imagining the logical conclusion of such an ideology
(thankfully, push did not come to shove after the moderately reform-minded Khrushchev took power
in 1958). Rand, on the other hand, is famed for her faith in the market and in the power of the
individual. Her work reflects her belief that any collectivist society fundamentally relies upon coercion,
to the point where such coercion would logically be extended to the mind with the linguistic
determinism she describes in Anthem. Similarly, the censorship laws under which Penguin was
prosecuted in 1960 represented the British government of the time attempting to impose its vision of
society upon its subjects. In particular, the trial’s focus on Lawrence’s use of expletives revealed an
underlying current of linguistic determinism on the part of the ruling class, though for obvious reasons
not to the same extent as presented in Nineteen Eighty-Four and Anthem.
It is undoubtedly true that things can exist without being named or recognised: a species of animal
exists even if man is unaware it does, as does a faraway land, even if no human has ever set foot upon
its soil. But in the case of philosophical abstractions, such as the nature of the individual as explored in
Anthem, the question becomes more complex than when considering simple physical realities. Can an
idea exist if the words to express it do not? Rand certainly believes so. Just as astrologists search for
what is not there when they attempt to pinpoint the location of black holes in the universe, so too does
Prometheus1 attempt to elucidate the notion of the individual from scratch because he knows it exists
and yet, lacking the word to describe the concept, in his mind it might as well not. The woman he falls
in love with, Gaea, quickly realises this, as she attempts to profess her feelings for him:
“We love you.”
But they frowned and shook their head and looked at us helplessly.
“No,” they whispered, “that is not what we wished to say.”
They were silent, then they spoke slowly, and their words were halting, like the words of a child
learning to speak for the first time:
“We are one... alone... and only... and we love you who are one... alone... and only.”[2]
The word she is searching for is referred to as the “Unmentionable Word”, and is of course ‘I’. In
Anthem, linguistic determinism has been implemented as far as possible, but has only partially
succeeded in fulfilling its aims, as both Prometheus and Gaea realise that the concept of the individual
exists even if they have no word for it.
However, whilst the language spoken in Anthem is simply common English with a few words absent
from it, therefore potentially leaving more scope for freedom of thought, Orwell describes Newspeak
as an almost completely new language, specifically engineered to make all thoughts “not proper to the
devotees of IngSoc2” impossible. To this end, the vocabulary of the constructed language is divided
into three categories: the A vocabulary, for words needed in everyday life; the B vocabulary, for the
lexicon of political discussion; and the C vocabulary, consisting entirely of scientific and technical
terms[3]. Orwell contends that Newspeak statements such as ‘Big Brother is ungood3’ (entirely possible
with the official vocabulary) “could not have been sustained by reasoned argument because the
necessary words were not available”. As A and C category words are useless for political discussion, and
B category words may only be used to express positive sentiments about the Party and IngSoc,
rationalising statements critical of the Party therefore becomes impossible. In turn, said criticism
evaporates in the absence of any justification for it, and Newspeak’s determinism is confirmed.
Aside from its deterministic characteristics, Howard Fink argues that Orwell’s inspiration for Newspeak
came from a genuine proposal for a constructed, simplified version of English to be named Basic
English, which Orwell was initially enthusiastic about. As he points out, both languages share
characteristics in their mind-numbingly lacklustre vocabulary, but also in their lack of specific words[4].
For instance, both languages forgo the verb ‘should/shall’ for the more concrete ‘would/will’. Basic
English only includes the former as its creator Charles Kay Ogden viewed the latter as an unnecessary
distraction, whilst Newspeak does so because the inclusion of ‘should/shall’ would allow speakers too
much freedom of thought. In this deliberate twisting of Basic English to the most malevolent goals
imaginable, Fink contends that Orwell was parodying one constructed language with another, and was
perhaps also cynically commenting on the real-life deterministic potential of Basic English.
If Newspeak is a parody of Basic English, Rod Long argues that Rand’s Anthem represents a rejection
of Platonic ethics and morals. He describes her as a “a dedicated Aristotelian and a lifelong critic of
Plato”, and in keeping with this description holds that her book negatively mirrors many of the
principles Plato argues in The Republic[5]. He suggests that the deterministic prohibition of the word ‘I’
is a natural progression from Plato’s proposal that all citizens of his utopian republic should say ‘mine’
1
The name Equality 7-2521 gives himself after he comes to terms with his individuality.
2
The ruling Party’s guiding ideology in Nineteen Eighty-Four.
Big Brother is the supposed leader of Oceania, though it is never made clear whether he is a real person or a
symbolic figurehead. ‘Ungood’ is roughly the Newspeak word for ‘bad’.
3
and ‘not mine’ about the same things. He goes on to submit that Rand’s evident rejection of this
principle serves to support Aristotle’s proposition that any attempt to “give a community the same
degree of unity as a single individual is doomed to disaster”. Given that The Republic supports many
ideas the Communists implemented in Rand’s native Russia, such as the abolition of private property, it
seems exceedingly likely that she believed linguistic determinism of the type she describes in Anthem to
be the natural conclusion of the authoritarianism of the Soviet Union. Just as in Anthem, the guiding
ideology of the USSR was indeed anti-individualist. The supposed reformer Khrushchev, in his 1956
Secret Speech discrediting Stalinism, declared that the “cult of the individual” must be “decisively
abolished, once and for all”, thereby perhaps validating the fears Rand expresses in Anthem, written
over thirty years prior.
But why even attempt to implement linguistic determinism? There is firstly a wholly negative argument
to be made for this semantic fascism, in that it may simply be a way for an oligarchical elite to cling to
power perpetually, as is the case in both Nineteen Eighty-Four and Anthem. Both novels present
authoritarian police states which keep the populace in check with the usual arsenal of torture,
executions and informants; linguistic determinism is just one more tool the State can use to extend its
controlling tentacles into the lives of the general population. Indeed, perhaps the greatest irony of both
novels is that they are societies supposedly governed by egalitarian ideologies, and yet in the two
societies a tiny elite subjugates the vast majority of the population.
However, a more positive argument can also be made for linguistic determinism. As early as the 18th
century, thinkers such as Jean-Jacques Rousseau were arguing that societies could only flourish if their
citizens shared similar values and convictions. In The Social Contract, Rousseau writes that “it may be
necessary to compel a man to be free”[6], essentially drafting the mandate for the Marxist logic that an
enlightened elite must forcibly open the eyes of the masses in order for them to see the light. This
logic, implemented prominently in the USSR, was what led Rand to flee her native Russia shortly after
the Bolshevik Revolution and what Orwell warned against with Nineteen Eighty-Four. Of course, this
argument only holds if one believes the end to justify the means, which both Rand and Orwell did not.
Both of their novels warn against attempting to build utopia by any means possible, arguing that the
impossibility of this task inevitably leads to dystopia being its conclusion.
It is telling that in Nineteen Eighty-Four, weapons of mass destruction are not mentioned. There are no
nuclear bombs, capable of wiping out entire cities in an instant, or engineered plagues which could
bring humankind to its knees. Instead, spiritual weapons are conjured up, reducing people to the
equivalent of worker bees absolutely subservient to their queen, instead of individuals with the free will
that makes them human. Even the act of thinking something the Party does not prescribe to is
criminalised–“thoughtcrime”, in Newspeak.
Of course, thoughtcrime is only possible in Oldspeak (i.e. common English), and so will be completely
eliminated when Newspeak replaces Oldspeak to become the only language spoken by the population.
An architect of the controlled language makes this crystal clear to the protagonist Smith:
“In the end we shall make thoughtcrime literally impossible, because there will be no words in
which to express it. Every concept that can ever be needed, will be expressed by exactly one
word, with its meaning rigidly defined and all its subsidiary meanings rubbed out and
forgotten.”[7]
This is precisely the concept Wittgenstein theorised[1]. Where language was in the past used to broaden
horizons and improve one’s understanding of the world, in the dystopian world of Oceania it is used to
restrict perspectives to those which fit the Party’s aims. For instance, how is it possible to express a
desire to be free in the traditional sense of the word if the only possible use of the word ‘free’ is in the
sense of something lacking something else (“the dog is free from lice”), as is the case in Newspeak[3]?
Orwell abhorred the weaponisation of language wherever he saw it. In his 1946 essay Politics and the
English Language, he deplores the use of vague and meaningless language to ‘defend the indefensible’; to
him, “political language has to consist largely of euphemism, question-begging and sheer cloudy
vagueness”[8]. Orwell is well aware that language can mask the truth as much as it can unveil it; whether
in reference to real-life events such as the atomic bombing of Japan, or in the realm of fiction, as
described in Nineteen Eighty-Four. In the novel, this deliberate obfuscation of the truth is named
‘doublethink’, the principle of “[being conscious] of complete truthfulness while telling carefully
constructed lies”.
In one of the more far-reaching examples of doublethink presented, Orwell introduces the reader to
the Ministries of Truth (which deals with the falsification of records and history), Plenty (whose job it
is to make up figures that will convince the populace that the economy is booming when it is not), Love
(where suspected criminals are tortured physically and psychologically), and Peace (which deals with the
never-ending wars with the other two superpowers). Perhaps the contemporary reader would choose to
recognise similar doublethink in most Western countries naming the ministries responsible for the
armed forces the ‘Ministry of Defence’, because after all ‘Ministry of Aggression’ doesn’t have quite
the same tone to it. Or maybe they would instead choose to listen to Dick Cheney refer to torture as
‘enhanced interrogation’, or a law being named the PATRIOT Act, a name designed to evoke primal
nationalism when its chief goal was the erosion of basic civil liberties. Whichever instance of it they
choose to focus upon, examples of Orwellian doublethink abound in the contemporary world.
Doublethink represents an example of the weaker strain of the Sapir-Whorf hypothesis, linguistic
relativism, because choosing not to see the truth is as much avoiding it as not having the ability to see
reality. The veiling of atrocities behind euphemism and ambiguity is a manipulation of language just as
the engineering of it to political ends is. The principles Orwell evokes in Politics and the English Language
are expanded upon in Nineteen Eighty-Four, and indeed in the period in which the novel occurs, these
principles serve as a temporary stopgap for the total control the linguistic determinism of Newspeak
will afford the Party. Similar euphemisms are present in Anthem; the prison where Prometheus is
tortured is named as the ‘Palace of Corrective Detention’, for instance. Rather incredibly, he manages
to escape simply by strolling out of his unlocked and unguarded cell: because of the conformity and
obedience imposed with linguistic determinism, he is the first person ever to attempt escape (though
not the first to discover the word “I”; he recalls having seen a man burned at the stake for having
become aware of the existence of the Unmentionable Word). This plot point presents the essence of
linguistic determinism to the reader: mental control so complete and inescapable that physical restraints
are unneeded, even upon prisoners condemned to torture or death.
At its core, linguistic determinism is about one group imposing its morals upon another through the
medium of language. Though we would perhaps prefer that this concept were confined to the realm of
fiction, the trial of Lady Chatterley’s Lover demonstrates that it is not always the case. The prosecution,
arguing that the novel should be banned, focussed in part upon the language used by D.H. Lawrence.
Prosecuting council Mervyn Griffith-Jones, in his opening speech to the jury, said this: “The word
‘fuck’ or ‘fucking’ appears no less than 30 times… ‘Cunt’ 14 times; ‘balls’ 13 times; ‘shit’ and ‘arse’ six
times apiece; ‘cock’ four times; ‘piss’ three times, and so on.” He was arguing that the book should be
banned on the basis of its obscenity because of its liberal use of four letter words. In what way is this
different to the authorities described in Anthem banning the word ‘I’? Through attempting to censor
Lady Chatterley’s Lover, the ruling class was endeavouring to force its subjects to think a certain way and
conform to a certain perception of society, in much the same way as Orwell and Rand fantasised. Of
course, the British government did not burn people at the stake when they dared utter the word ‘fuck’,
but the underlying principle is identical.
Linguistic determinism is a concept quite often explored in dystopian writing, simply because it
embodies morbid fascinations about the limits of individuality and human nature. In many ways, there
is nothing more terrifying than the idea that the tools with which individuals express themselves can be
shaped by malevolent institutions so as to make even the thought of rebellion and opposition
impossible. Let us hope that dystopian writing will continue to be the only way in which we interact
with the concept.
Bibliography
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4.
5.
6.
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Wittgenstein, L. (1921) Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus, Kegan Paul, London
Rand, A. (1938) Anthem, Cassell, London
Orwell, G. (1949) The Principles of Newspeak, Secker and Warbug, London
Howard, F. (1971) Newspeak: The Epitome of Parody Techniques In “Nineteen Eighty-Four”, Critical Survey 5,
2, p155-63
Long, R. (2012) Rand’s Dystopian Masterpiece, Laissez Faire
Rousseau, J-J. (1762) Of The Social Contract, Or Principles of Political Right, Paris
Orwell, G. (1949) Nineteen Eighty-Four, Secker and Warbug, London
Orwell, G. (1946) Politics and the English Language, Horizon, London