Q&A Alif Ba Ta: Reversal of the Teaching of Science and Mathematics in English

Q&A Alif Ba Ta Conference (Cont’d)

Q3: Can you comment on the recent [July 8, 2009] policy reversal with respect to the teaching of science and mathematics in English?

MBM:  I do not wish to re-visit the various arguments except to point to two incontrovertible facts. One, we are better off knowing two languages instead of just one. Quite apart from enhancing our marketability, being bilingual offers other significant cognitive advantages, like being able to see things from different perspectives. I would leave it to the professionals on how best to make our children bilingual.

Two, the bulk of the literature in science and technology is in English. If we have to depend on translations, we are putting an unnecessary barrier in getting to the forefront of scientific knowledge. I support the teaching of science and mathematics in English because of those two realities.

There is no point saying that the Japanese learn science in their language. They have had centuries of experience; we do not. Besides, they are already so far ahead; we are far behind. If we were to “Look East,” the Japan we should emulate would be the one following the Meiji Restoration. The Japanese then, realizing how far behind they were as compared to the West, sent thousands of their teachers and senior officials abroad for extended study to learn and absorb the best practices. Additionally, Japan imported massive numbers of teachers and scientists from the West. Even today thousands of young Americans go to Japan to teach English (the JET Program).

I question the relevance to Malaysia of the UNESCO report favoring the use of mother tongue. That report was concerned with the languages of small tribes and the fear that those languages would disappear. Malay is the native language of over a quarter billion people; there is no likelihood it would suffer such a fate.

I would go beyond being bilingual and make all Malaysians trilingual, or at least a working knowledge of a third. Non-Malays are already so:  Malay, English, and their mother tongue. Malays could too: Malay, English, and Arabic. In truth I could not care less what the second and third languages are, but I presume for Malays, English and Arabic would be the logical choice and easiest to learn.

Apart from the cognitive advantages, there are other benefits of knowing another language. Our language shapes the way we look at reality; likewise how we think and behave. We have however, come a long way from the earlier brash assertion of the Whorf-Sapir theory that “Human beings ... are very much at the mercy of the particular language which has become the medium of expression for their society . . . .” Let me illustrate with an example.

Many years ago Korea Airlines suffered through a series of terrible crashes. They were all due to pilot errors. The tragedy was that often the first officer and flight engineer were fully aware of the dangers they were in but were too scared of contradicting their captain. This fear subordinates have of their superiors is a feature common to many Asian cultures, ours included.

To rectify the situation, the airline hired an American consultant. He recognized this major cultural impediment to effective cockpit communications. He prevailed upon management to impose an all-English rule in the cockpit. He justified it on the basis that English is the language of aviation. He also instituted other changes, like enhancing their oral communication skills.

A remarkable thing happened. He found that junior officers were now more open, direct and most importantly, clear when communicating with their superiors. Whereas before they would convey their disagreements with their superiors in the most indirect and obtuse way in their Korean language, now those junior officers had no difficulty expressing them in English.

How did that happen? Apparently in Korean there are multiple ways of referring to “you” and “I” depending on the status of the speaker and the person addressed. Just like Malay language, when a commoner addresses a royalty he would refer to himself as patek (slave) while the sultan refers to himself as beta (royal “we”). In English, it is only “I” and “you,” so the status barrier, or what cultural anthropologists refer to as power distance, is eliminated. Today, as a consequence of the English-only cockpit rule, Korea Airlines is one of the safest. A remarkable transformation!

Mahathir lamented that his greatest failure as Prime Minister [first time around, 1981-2003] was his inability to change Malay culture. That is pure hubris on his part to even think that he could do so. Had he been more modest, he could have effected significant changes in Malays by making us learn English. At least then we could address ourselves as “I” or “we” and not as slaves when addressing a member of the royalty. Then we would not have witnessed the laughable incongruity of former Mentri Besar Nizar of Perak addressing his sultan when when he (Nizar) disagreed with his sultan, “Patek memohon derhaka .... ” (I, your slave, beg to be treasonous with Your Majesty!) Malay language is just not equipped for such direct communications.

Many sultans sit on the governing boards of many important institutions. Could there be robust discussions in such meetings when everyone would be deferring to the sultan? Senior scholars, seasoned politicians, and hard-nosed corporate captains suddenly become meek and genuflect to the sultans and wait patiently to kiss their hands. [The 1MDB scandal just went past the sultans’ noses without as much as a sniff from them.]

If we communicate in English, it would be so much easier to say, “I am sorry Your Royal Highness, I respectfully disagree!” I challenge anyone to say that in Malay and then be brave enough to say it to a sultan! It just cannot be done; that is the constraint of our language and culture.

From my book Liberating The Malay Mind, ZI Publications, Petaling Jaya, 2013.