The Better Worse Language Effect

It just so happens that I am fluent in both Japanese and English. However, that doesn't actually mean that I am equally proficient in either; in fact, my English is superior in almost every aspect[1]. But through my stint at writing regularly, I've discovered a peculiarity. Given the right set of circumstances, it can actually be more difficult to write an article in your better language.

At first glance this is completely counter intuitive. If we're better at one language than another, it should naturally mean that it's easier to write in that language than the other. We have a better grasp of the syntax, better control over the flow, and a larger set of words that we're aware of. We have more tools at our disposal to express our thoughts precisely.

But it is exactly the abundance of tools and ample flexibility in our expression that has the potential to bind us. In the better language, we can be tied up by our knowledge that we are capable of producing a more subtle expression or a more natural transition from one sentence to the next. We're very much capable of pursuing a better piece than the one we just spent an hour writing. In our better language, we have the ability to continue the agonizing process of iterating and improving our work. It can become a vicious cycle of meddling and nitpicking, where we have a very difficult time settling on a final version that we're happy to publish. Because the process is so arduous, we're likely to abandon our efforts mid way and just start a new article, which in itself is a self fulfilling prophecy.

What happens in the language of lesser proficiency? The difference, at least for me, is that I have fewer tools and fewer options at my disposal. I just don't have the skill to exact the minute control of my tone of voice or the implied meanings of words. My style is blunt, straightforward, and simple. It's like being stuck with a larger paintbrush. You don't have the best control with it, but you cover your surface much faster and you get the job done nonetheless, even if there are blemishes here and there.

I don't fix these blemishes in my Japanese writing, because quite frankly, I don't know how to fix them! I don't know a clever way to rewrite that somewhat awkward sounding phrase, or a better word to convey excitement.

But as I've found, this can be a blessing in disguise. The most important thing for a novice writer is to keep writing. The inferior writing technique can help us simply write more than otherwise.

This phenomenon probably only manifests itself when you become quite proficient at the second language, but not enough to fully control the nuances of your expressions, your diction, or your overall flow. The takeaway then is that at times it is actually useful to take away the highest level of writing that you are capable of, and stick to the basics.

Throw away the bells and whistles. Keep it simple, and keep writing.

[1] Interestingly, my Japanese was probably better than my English ten to fifteen years ago.