To translate a controversial text may very well mean putting one’s life on the line. Western history offers several examples of tortured and slain translators and interpreters, and as apt as we are to think that those barbaric times are over, the late 20th century saw one of the most appalling incidents of violence against a translator.

During the Protestant Reformation it was not uncommon for the ruling powers to round up and apprehend people who opposed strict Roman Catholicism. Our first translator-martyr not only opposed the dogmatism of his time, but rendered his 1526 translation of the Bible based on the philosophy “If God spare my life…a boy that driveth the plough shall know more of the Scripture than [the Pope].” William Tyndale (c. 1494 — 1536) translated the Bible into early Modern English in such a successful way that many portions of the King James Bible reflect his work. Unfortunately, his integrity as a translator resulted in Tyndale’s death: He was apprehended, strangled, and burned at the stake in Antwerp, Belgium.

In his wake followed the death of another religious translator — that of French scholar Etienne Dolet (1509 –1546). Among Dolet’s published translations were a number of Calvinistic works and a dialogue by Plato. For these and other texts, Dolet found himself accused of atheism several times, served several sentences, and finally was tortured and burned at the stake in Place Maubert, Paris. The place of his death is marked by a statue erected in 1889.

The most prominent modern death of a translator occurred in July of 1991 when Hitoshi Igarashi, the Japanese translator of Salman Rushdie’s controversial novel The Satanic Verses, was found stabbed to death outside of his office at the University of Tsukuba. Islamic militants had previously targeted Igarashi, an Islamic studies scholar, and the Islamic Center in Japan issued a statement against the publication of a Japanese translation of Rushdie’s novel. The threat of violence, however, did not stop publication and proliferation by the Shinseisha publishing house, and somewhere between 60,000 and 70,000 copies sold in Japan.

More recently, many interpreters and translators find themselves under fire. In courtrooms and prisons, in times of social and political unrest, chaos, or war, they are direct enemy targets. Both translators and interpreters throughout history have become victims of the old saying “Don’t kill the messenger.” These bearers of bad news — or simply of change — endeavored to step across the cultural gap, aware of the possibility of being dangerously misunderstood.

We’ve all had the experience of taking a multiple choice test — one is given a question, and then has to choose the correct answer from a group of choices, usually “a,” “b,” “c,” and “d.”

From a test-taker’s perspective, these can sometimes be very intimidating. Does the following line of reasoning sound familiar?

Okay, the correct answer is there somewhere, and “a” looks pretty good — but wait, so does “c.” But “c” was the answer to the last three questions. Would they have made “c” the correct answer to four questions in a row? I doubt it. So maybe it’s “a.” But it could be “c” also. I just don’t know…It’s definitely not “d”, but “b” is also looking like a possibility now. Yeah, “a” could be right…

While test-takers have the difficult job of actually taking the test, the test-developers have a difficult task as well. Certainly, they are concerned with how the test questions are written, but another chief concern is how the answer choices perform. This includes all of them — the right ones and the wrong ones.

Each test item is made up of three parts: the stem (the question), the key (the correct answer choice), and the distractors (the incorrect answer choices). The key and the distractors are sometimes referred to collectively as the alternatives. The idea behind each item is to present a question that the test-taker, having the requisite level of knowledge about the particular skill area, would answer correctly when given a collection of possible answers. A test-taker who has less than the requisite level of knowledge about what’s being tested might choose the right answer to a question (sometimes by guessing), but there is some likelihood that he or she will select one of the incorrect distractors — if the question and answers are created properly, that is. Simply put, each question has the job of distinguishing between test-takers who have the level of knowledge needed to pass the test and those who do not.

When writing each question, test-developers need to ensure that there is one — and only one — best answer to each question. But they also need to ensure that the distractors are doing their job of, well, distracting the less-skilled test-takers. Each distractor must be a plausible option; otherwise it does not serve this purpose. Take a look at the following example:

1. According to the passage, the Earth’s core contains levels of which elements?

a. nickel, iron, and gold
b. iron, sulfur, and carbon
c. oxygen, lithium, and neon
d. red, white, and blue

In this example, option “d” is clearly ridiculous and could be quickly eliminated, giving less-skilled test-takers a greater probability of selecting the correct option. Therefore, this answer choice is not doing its job of helping to distinguish among candidates. The test-developer would want an alternative that followed the form of the other three options.

So how does the developer know how well the answer choices are performing?

After the administration of a test, the responses can be analyzed to see what percentage of candidates selected each option. The analysis is performed to determine a figure that test developers call Item Facility (IF).

The IF is used to quantify the difficulty presented by each test answer choice. It is equal to the number of correct answers divided by the number of respondents. An IF value of 1.00 means that all respondents got the question correct, and therefore the item may be too easy. Conversely, an IF of 0.00 mean no one got the question correct, and that the item may be too difficult. In norm-referenced testing, items with extreme values would be considered of little value for distinguishing performance and would be removed or modified, as this type of testing is designed to spread out examinees’ scores across a normal distribution.

The ideal IF range for these test items is between a 0.4 and a 0.6, meaning that the majority of test-taker’s scores are clustered under the “bell-shaped curve.” However, criterion-referenced testing has to do with the mastery of the skill or subject matter being tested, and in these cases, it is common to see more extreme IF values.

From this type of analysis, among others, test-developers can go back and improve the quality of the items so that the whole test performs well in determining who has the skills to succeed at whatever the test is measuring.

Before the word chocolate came into the English language from Spanish, Hernan Cortes learned of a potent Aztec beverage made with cacahuaquchtl powder (the origin of the word “cocoa”), chili, musk, and honey. In a 1519 expedition to the New World, Cortes received a friendly reception from the Aztecs of Tenochtitlan (present-day Mexico City), who offered him the beverage tchocoatl. In the Nahuatl language of the Aztects, tchocoatl is derived from two words that mean “bitter water”: xocolli and atl.

Another linguistic thread in the story of chocolate links the Nahuatl word chicol-li, a type of beating stick used in cooking, with the preparation of a frothy chocolate beverage. The original name of this drink may have been chicolatl, meaning “beaten drink.”

Not surprisingly, non-profit organizations with a global outreach are among the largest employers of translators and interpreters. However, the impact of non-profits on the translation and interpretation service industry, which relies on the existence and protection of linguistic heterogeneity, is ambiguous. There is, in fact, an interesting dichotomy: on the one hand, non-profit institutions promote preservation of multilingual diversity; on the other hand, they impede this process.

In order to understand how non-profit institutions impact the demand for translation and interpretation services we need to take a closer look at two different kinds of non-profits.

Although statistics vary, over 30,000 international non-profit organizations are registered annually around the world–25,000 of which are characterized as non-governmental organizations (NGOs) and about 5,000 are intergovernmental entities (IGOs). Generally sharing humanitarian goals, NGOs and IGOs have crucial distinctions in their positions on translation and language policies. The origin of this distinction is partially ideological. The function of most IGOs, especially the ones under UN jurisdiction, is to monitor the power imbalances among various nation-states, including disputes arising from linguistic differences.

By their nature, IGOs are generally more closely aligned with central governments: they receive financial support from the ruling authorities, and in turn share government attitudes and priorities towards national language policies. IGOs are likely to advocate multilingual diversity for emblematic, rather than practical, purposes.

In the Holy Roman Empire, for example, where power was dispersed among nation-states, imperial translation played a symbolic role, uniting culturally and linguistically plural society. A more recent example can be identified in the multilingual organization of the European Union, which does not have a common language policy and adopts twenty-three languages of the member-states as its official languages. Or take the United Nations, which has 192 member states and six official languages (Arabic, Chinese, French, English, Russian and Spanish) that are not chosen for any practical purposes, but rather are representative of the various phases of the organization’s expansion.

In contrast, NGOs usually have less funding and are more concerned with efficiency and economizing on translation expenses. NGOs are less likely to have on-staff translators and interpreters. Structure and practices of international NGOs typically derive from a different ideology, where the loyalty to the common mission and purpose overrides the symbolism of “one nation, one language.”

Although there are many arguments in favor of preserving linguistic diversity in non-profit institutions, more often than not, pragmatic concerns — usually in favor of financial efficiency — take priority.

September 30th — the feast-day of St. Jerome, patron saint of translators, was originally instituted as Translation Day by UNESCO, upon the request of the International Federation of Translators (FIT), twenty years ago.

Cheers to all of the translators, interpreters, and linguists whose hard work renders our world into a more meaningful place.

The history of words teaches us that food is the fuel of relationships. The word “companion”, from the Latin com “with” and panis “bread”, reminds us that food — and the brief respite allotted to people throughout history for sharing meals — feeds more than the physical body; it also nourishes generosity and friendship. To eat with someone implies a level of comfort with that person — a sense of security that mitigates the primordial fear that our provisions will be stolen from under our noses. The English “companion”, the Spanish “companero”, the Italian “compagno”, and the French “copain” all come from the Latin meaning “with whom one eats bread.”

Talk of the financial crisis and political instability seems to lead to one question: is economic Armageddon coming? As job security hangs in the balance, economic commentators disagree on which occupations are likely to suffer the most and experience decreased demand in the future. In this economic environment, translators are left to ponder: will my services still be needed?

The market for translators, although not completely immune to economic downturns, is more stable than may appear at first. In economic jargon, it may be characterized as “countercyclical,” meaning that the demand for translating and interpreting services fluctuates in the opposite direction to the swings of the business cycle. The more complex international business environment implies that there is a growing reliance on foreign investors and international financiers. Translators and interpreters, employed in almost all of the sectors of the economy, are integral facilitators of the globalization process, especially in times of limited consumer confidence, declining revenues, and borrowing constraints. In addition, international migration, estimated at about 200 million, and popular movements to liberalize immigration barriers create a constant demand for translators. In fact, the international market for translation services is growing at an impressive rate of between 5 to 7 percent and is expected to continue growing faster than the average of all occupations.

It is an interesting fact that as more and more people worldwide become aware of the benefits of acquiring multilingual skills, there doesn’t seem to be an impact on the demand for translation services. One would expect the global demand to fall at the same rate as the acquisition of English or Spanish rises. Recent statistics, however, offer a different view: the use of English as a language of cross-cultural communication is growing, and yet demand for English translators does not fall.

There are several possible explanations of this paradox…

First, the cost of translation services may be declining due to new cost and time-saving technologies: for instance, some estimates suggest that administrative costs of translation services in the European Union have declined substantially, constituting 15 percent of the administrative budget in 2002 compared to over 40 percent in the early nineties. Second, there is an issue of time: although more people are learning a second language, mastering a foreign language and being able to use it professionally is a lifelong commitment. The issue becomes a simple short versus long-run consideration for a short-term business contract, and in the short-term, there is usually not enough time, and therefore little incentive to master another language. Of course, acquiring second or third language skills does not usually make an individual qualified to produce high quality professional translation or interpretation services, as these professions require their own training and skill sets that go far beyond simple language acquisition.

In the midst of the Great Depression, John Maynard Keynes famously proclaimed: “In the long run we are all dead” to encourage more immediate and active government intervention. Although it is less clear whether we are currently facing a new Great Depression, one may consider a profession as a translator to be a safe bet, at least for a while.

Recently, ALTA received a fax from a law firm with a request to translate an attached document. Strangely, the lawyers had received this document enclosed in an envelope with no return address, and with no English indication as to what the sender wanted done. We receive translation requests daily, but this one was quite odd. The lawyers couldn’t decipher the language that was printed on the tattered page. It was a single sheet of thick, yellowing paper, about half-filled with ornate characters that looked “maybe Arabic?” — as the lawyers wondered. But it was not Arabic.

It was not anything that we at ALTA had ever seen before. The mystery document was passed around the office and we attempted to identify the source language. A few of us offered educated guesses based on the diacritical marks and some other aspects of the script, but no one could determine the language exactly. We scanned it and sent it out to a few translators who specialize in East African, Middle Eastern, and East Asian languages. A couple of them responded with the theory that we had uncovered an example of a Manichean script that was banned centuries ago!

They were wrong. It took ALTA’s resident language sleuth and linguist, Wes Cook, to get to the bottom of the mystery.

Here is the story, in the Language Sleuth’s own words:

It was a dark and stormy night and the office was in a stir about a letter from a lawyer. The letter was written in an unusual alphabet that resembled some modern and some ancient scripts. But it certainly wasn’t Manichean.

Manichean script was used by the followers of the Gnostic religion of the founding prophet “Mani” between the third and sixth centuries. As a linguist, my professional opinion was that the document was some sort of hoax, and not, in fact, an example of any rare ancient language. So, I put on my sleuth hat and got to work.

Here were the first clues: I noticed significant differences between the mystery document and actual Manichean script. For one, Manichean was largely written up and down, not left to right as this was. There were other differences in the characters and markers (vowel or others) that were not present in Manichean.

It clearly had some Arabic characteristics, but the letters seemed more separate from each other. This alphabet was very different from the fluid, attached letters of Arabic. Besides, Arabic is written right to left. There’s no language I know of where the writing descendant is written in the opposite direction of the mother language.

Still nothing concrete had presented itself. It did possess qualities of Tibetan script, but it had these Arabic-like markers around some of the letters. I started researching any language that could have an Arabic culture mix with an Indo-Tibetan/Sanskrit-based language. The only culture that seemed to have such a blend was a tribe that existed in the lands north of India, west of Mongolia and east of Arabic regions: Tocharian.

Tocharian was used in that general region and has been extinct for hundreds of years. This was the closest, historically and regionally, that I could find. Yes, the timeline, region and inter-mingling of cultures matched up; however, too many other qualities did not match.

The combination of language characteristics seemed arbitrary from a linguistics point of view. From an artistic point of view, however, it was beautifully rendered. That’s when it hit me: J.R.R. Tolkien.

Tolkien, well known for his “Lord of the Rings”, “The Hobbit” and other writings, was also a really well respected linguist, and an inventor of languages. Going with that hunch, I looked for examples of Tolkien’s scripts. Within no time, the mystery was solved.

The letter was written in an Elvish dialect invented by Tolkien. Once I was confident of its origin, I broke the news to the office. The announcement was received with quite a bit of laughter.

So, there you have it. After nearly thirty years in the translation business, ALTA experienced a first: a letter from Middle Earth. Tune in next time for another installment of The Language Slueth: episode 2, An Email from Terabithia.

The best advice is simply: don’t!

I remember the first time I brought my French boyfriend, Laurent, home for the holidays. Although he made efforts, his English was limited. I was responsible for interpreting much of the small talk. It was no easy task — especially since he liked to tell a lot of jokes.

After being in France for a couple of years, I was at a point where I could actually “get” most French jokes. Also, I was already familiar with my boyfriend’s humor since he had explained his own jokes to me before. But something happened when I translated them for my American family. They made absolutely no sense at all. That’s how I learned that jokes are the hardest thing to translate!

I finally told Laurent to please stop telling jokes, but poor Laurent loved to make people laugh. It was an inherent part of his personality. Despite the fact that my parents already loved him and found him quite entertaining as he was, Laurent wanted desperately to share his unique wit. I wanted to help him.

Humor, however, is not universal. French-style humor, as I had learned, was very different from American-style humor. (Maybe that’s why I never really found my boyfriend’s jokes that funny in the first place.)

In England, for example, constant self-deprecation is the first step to humor. By contrast, the French sense of humor is fueled by ridicule and mockery that is directed toward others. Another frequent form of French humor is to exaggerate a statement to illustrate its falsehood. If you are gullible like me, you may not clue in to the “funny” factor.

We were in line for a baseball game. When I told my mom that Laurent said he needed to “pee the father-in-law to the mother-in-law” she widened her eyes and looked at me as if a spaceship had landed. Telling jokes in an international context is very tricky. It is not only a question of a good translation. A lot of humor depends on subtle cultural differences or on local references. In Laurent’s case, using the in-laws to point our how badly he needed to go to the bathroom was a bad choice in local reference. Although from what I understood, in Southern France it was a common and funny joke.

When you find yourself in situation where you are asked to translate an impossible joke, the best thing to do is simply acknowledge the person is telling a funny. You may be able to relay the basic gist; “he is telling a joke about how bad he needs to go to the bathroom.”

But unless you are prepared to give a whole lesson on the cultural underlying meaning (and lose the humor while you are at it) it’s best not to translate the joke at all.