Denglish instead of German – but why?
Is English changing the German language.
From “House of Strauss” to “Shabby Chic”: English phrases thrive. Why do we use them when there are also German terms available?
In the USA, a linguistic phenomenon can be observed that has increased considerably in recent decades. People who are self-respecting like to use Chinese expressions. Although almost no one really knows the Mandarin language, so many resort to some more or less correct fragments from a foreign language. Of course, this is just a thought experiment; in reality, this phenomenon does not exist – at least not in the USA.
In German-speaking countries, on the other hand, there is an almost complete willingness to adopt English phrases untranslated into one’s own language. “Those who want to demonstrate prestige tend to use English, which seems to be worth more to many,” says Helga Kotthoff, Professor of German Linguistics at the University of Freiburg. When even common foreign words are anglicised according to the motto “I just don’t have any energy today!”, it is “almost comical”, she finds.
Marketing language
The fact that Vienna’s new museum about the waltz king is called the House of Strauss could theoretically be a relief for linguistically helpless international visitors. But why does the city of Salzburg also advertise photogenic routes around the city on its German-language tourism website under the catchword Instagrammable Salzburg? Why does everyone have to take a railjet, pay attention to section controls when driving, and why does ÖBB offer an app called Shared Mobility for choosing a mode of transport?
Okay, in some cases there are no German equivalents, or they sound fully uncool. That’s why we season with oregano instead of dost, use rocket instead of arugula, and a crumble tastes much better to us than a crumble cake. Those who used to have to put a shabby chest of drawers with peeling varnish on the street can now offer a unique piece for sale as vintage with Shabby Chic.
Questionable linguistic patriotism
Is English changing the German language?
Away from a broader public, the English-German mishmash in the slang of the advertising industry, management and the financial world has served for decades to demonstrate professionalism and cosmopolitanism. The low point of this language can be seen in an interview in FAZ magazine with the fashion designer Jil Sander, in which she said, among other things, in 1996: “I understood that you have to be contemporary, that you have to have future thinking. (…) But the audience has also supported all this from the beginning. Today’s problem-conscious people can appreciate these things, these refined qualities with spirit. However, our voice is also aimed at certain target groups. If you want ladylike, don’t shop at Jil Sander.”
With these formulations, Sander qualified for the Negative Prize, awarded for the first time in 1997 by the then newly founded German Language Association (VDS), which regards Anglicisms as a serious problem. In contrast, essays from the established, specialist Society for the German Language (GfdS), in which the majority of German linguists are represented, like to react to the phenomenon with demonstrative composure.
Those who complain about the careless use of English expressions, some of which are difficult to understand, are generally quickly pigeonholed as nationalists and old-timers, as was the case some time ago in an article in the Süddeutsche Zeitung, whose author put today’s critics of Anglicism in the same category as those language patriots who, as early as the 17th century, wanted to replace foreign words with new coinages, such as the pistol with the “Meuchelpuffer”.
Facilitated communication
Is English changing the German language?
As the international language of science, English facilitates communication. However, if technical terms are adopted into the general language without being translated, as was the case with many Corona vocabulary terms, this can make it difficult for the normal population to obtain information.
In France, where there is a more self-confident way of dealing with foreign words and marche nordique is practised rather than Nordic walking, Covid also had its own, or at least Frenchised expressions such as confinement instead of lockdown or distanciation sociale. In “German” it simply remained home schooling and click and collect. “We would have the vocabulary for that, but often people don’t even bother to find new terms,” says Helga Kotthoff.
The frequent talk of “loosening the lockdown” shows that many no longer seem to notice the strange linguistic mishmash. An English term also creates distance to a phenomenon because it lacks the emotional connotations of native-language expressions, Kotthoff emphasises, citing the example of a radio discussion in which the experts present kept talking about littering, while the callers concerned addressed the issue as littering.
Layered language
In the past, too, there were strong influences of other languages on German. As with Italian expressions in the commercial sphere (giro, porto) and in music (fortissimo), however, these foreign words always remained limited to individual groups and subject areas, as the science journalist Dieter E. Zimmer pointed out 25 years ago: “Even the most foreign-word-rich German ever spoken, the French-speaking German of the first half of the eighteenth century, remained a class language, that of the aristocracy and the bourgeois upper class.”
Today, anyone and everyone is confronted with more or less understandable English buzzwords when choosing a telephone tariff or buying a train ticket. “Parts of the population can no longer keep up with this anglicised language,” complains Helga Kotthoff. Pseudo-English product names can be found in every discount brochure. There are bars and nuggets of something or other, and detergents are also available in the form of discs, pods or tabs. “When such “denglish” expressions appear frequently, I smile a bit,” says US linguist Kate Stollmann, who teaches at the University of Bremen.
Lack of reflection
When Stollmann came to Germany twenty-one years ago, she was somewhat irritated by what Germans thought was English. “At some point I just accepted Handy as a German word,for a mobile phone”. Even the more relaxed linguists point out in the case of mixed words or vocabulary like showmaster or Handy, which have completely different meanings in English, that such expressions have become part of the German language. We notice that even coach has become a loanword at the latest when we talk about coaches.
Kate Stollmann considers it a “natural development of our time” that the internationalisation of the world is also reflected in the language. She just feels that there is a lack of reflection in many places. “It could be that English expressions in the field of advertising exclude many more people than is claimed,” says Stollmann and pleads for “accessibility in language”. This is lacking in slogans, for example, which only work if the English wordplay behind them is understood.
And even for a reader who has no problem with foreign-language vocabulary, the mania to name everything additionally in English can become annoying. If you want to find out about a sideboard on the net, you’d better also look for sideboard and highboard. If the bookseller is looking for a guidebook, it could also be a guide or tutorial; collections of tips sometimes go by the name of life hacks. When it comes to gardening, he should not forget the keyword gardening. The “ing” form sounds much more modern right away and is therefore also stuck to German words without restraint, as in gorge-ing.
Global
Is English changing the German language?
Of course, even in sport, everything seems more dynamic when it sounds English. The endurance run up the almost 3000-metre-high Hochkönig can therefore only be trail running with Prize Money for the title of “Hochkönigman”. Those who prefer a long-distance hiking trail could take a look at the Styrian Iron Trail, which is no longer easy to tell that it runs in Styria. Every national language is also involved in the atmosphere, emphasises Helga Kotthoff.
Not offering local specialities – like the Black Forest Cake in some southern German bakeries – under their famous mother tongue name would be unthinkable in France or Italy. “This Globalesisch creates a kind of eternally identical airport atmosphere everywhere,” states Kotthoff, who is not convinced that the self-healing powers of German will already ensure that the language does not suffer any major damage.
In the past, fascinating word imports were often integrated, repelled – or convincingly replaced. The same language purists around the poet Philipp Zesen, who had failed grandiosely with many grotesque Germanisation proposals since the 1640s, successfully coined new formations such as “Bücherei” for library or “Briefwechsel” for correspondence. Since then, we say “diary” or “insurance” and not journal and assekuranz as in the 17th century. The same goes for “curriculum vitae” instead of “CV” – at least when an application in English is not expected. In pop music, Udo Lindenberg already dared to sing confidently in German half a century ago. In everyday language, the mother-tongue inferiority complexes seem to be on the rise again – so it would slowly be original again to name new phenomena creatively in German: That would really be a challenge! (Christoph Weymann, 8.10.2023)
Source: Der Standard – translated from the German
Image by Biljana Jovanovic from Pixabay