A swirl of IPA symbols in the ether. Do LLMs 'understand' phonology? And are they any good at translation?

Do LLMs have phonological ‘understanding’?

LLMs are everywhere just now. And as statistical word-crunchers, these large language models seem a tantalisingly good fit for linguistics work.

And, where there’s new tech, there’s new research: one of the big questions floating around in linguistics circles right now is whether large language models (LLMs) “understand” language systems in any meaningful way – at least any way that can be useful to research linguists.

LLMs doing the donkey work?

One truly exciting potential avenue is the use of LLMs to do the heavy lifting of massive corpus annotation. Language corpora can be huge – billions of words in some cases. And to be usefully searchable, those words have to be tagged with some kind of category information. For years, we’ve had logic-based Natural Language Processing (NLP) tech to do this, and for perhaps the most block-wise faculty of language – syntax – it’s done a generally grand, unthinking job.

But LLMs go one step beyond this. They not only demonstrate (or simulate) a more creative manipulation of language. Now, they have begun to incorporate thinking too. Many recent models,  such as the hot-off-the-press GPT-5, are already well along the production line of a new generation of high reasoning LLM models. These skills that are making them useful in other fields of linguistics, beyond syntax – fields where things like sentiment and intention come into play. Pragmatics is one area that has been a great fit, with one study into LLM tagging showing promising results.

The sounds behind the tokens

As for phonology, the linguistic field that deals with our mental representations of sound systems, the answer is a little more complicated.

On the one hand, LLMs are completely text-based. They don’t hear or produce sounds – they’re pattern matchers for strings of tokens – bits of words. But because written language does encode sound–meaning correspondences, they end up with a kind of latent ability to spot phonological patterns indirectly. For example, ask an LLM to generate rhyming words, or to apply a regular sound alternation like plural –s in English, and it usually does a decent job. In fact, one focus of a recent study was rhyming, and it found that, with some training, LLMs can approach a pretty humanlike level of rhyme generation.

On one level, that’s intuitive – it’s because orthography tends (largely) to reflect underlying phonotactics and morphophonology. Also, the sheer volume of data helps the model make the right generalisations – in those billions of pages of crunched training data, there are bound to be examples of the link. Where it gets shakier is with non-standard spellings, dialect writing, or novel words. Without clear orthographic cues, the model struggles to “hear” the system. You might see it overgeneralise, or miss distinctions that are obvious to a native speaker. In other words, it mimics phonological competence through text-based proxy, but it doesn’t have one.

It’s that ‘shakier’ competence I’m exploring in my own research right now. How easy is it to coax an understanding of non-standard phonology from an out-of-the-box LLM? Pre-training is key, finding wily ways to prime that mysterious ‘reasoning’ new models use.

Rough-Edged tools that need honing

So, do LLMs have phonological understanding?

Well, not in the sense of a human speaker with an embodied grammar. But what they do have is an uncanny knack for inferring patterns from writing, a kind of orthography-mediated phonology.

That makes them rough tools starting out, but potentially powerful assistants: not replacements for the linguist’s ear and analysis, but tools that can highlight patterns, make generalisation we might otherwise miss, and help us sift through mountains of messy data.

The Greek flag flying in a sunny sky

Greek participles – meet the -μένος gang!

There’s a class of words in Modern Greek that are derived from verbs but not used to form tenses – they’re purely adjectival. I’ve written about them in the past, in terms of how they contrast with another class of adjectives, and knowing a bit more about them can really help polish your fluency.

It’s worth revisiting these as they’re so widespread. In fact, the Duolingo Greek course has a whole unit on them, which is why they’re suddenly on my own radar again! I’m talking about passive past participles – they describe something that has been done to someone or something.

Meet the -μένος gang

You can usually spot them by their characteristic -μένος ending. In fact, you’ve probably been using a couple without even knowing it:

κουρασμένος (tired)

απασχολημένος (busy)

These words are passive as they describe a state of having had something happen to you – something has tired you out, for example (even the English is a past participle here). For busy, it’s closer to translate απασχολημένος  as ‘occupied’, which is what has been ‘done’ to busy people!

These passive past participles are formed from the verbal root. And in most cases, they’re completely transparent, containing all the elements of that root:

κουράζω (I tire) > κουρασμένος (tired) (ζ and σ are a common alternation in Greek roots)

απασχολώ (I occupy) > απασχολημένος (occupied, busy)

A disappearing act – Greek assimilation

Sometimes, however, the connection is not so obvious. There’s a group of Greek verbs that have a root with -β- and -φ- where that element disappears from the participle:

κόβω (I cut) κομμένος (cut)
κρύβω (I hide, tr.) κρυμμένος (hidden)
ράβω (I sew) ραμμένος (sewn)
βάφω (I paint) βαμμένος (painted)
γράφω (I write) γραμμένος (written)

What’s happened here is called assimilation – a case of one sound becoming more like another. Because the root consonant of these verbs is labial, ie., pronounced with the lips, it matches the place of articulation of the /m/ of the ending -μμένος. For ease of pronunciation, one becomes even more like the other – and it’s that /m/ that wins out here, passing its properties backwards (so this is regressive assimilation rather than progressive, where the properties of an earlier segment move to a later one).

There’s even a set of these participles that are formed additionally via reduplication – a doubling of syllables to express some category change (for instance, an imperfective / perfective distinction). Here are a couple:

δίνω (I give) δεδομένος (given)
πείθω (I convince) πεπεισμένος (convinced)

These are particularly exciting to scholars of Indo-European, as it’s a quite an ancient mechanism found in the proto-language, and not particularly productive in modern day Indo-European languages. When you see it fossilised in forms like this, historical linguists can get very excited.

Peeking under the bonnet of Greek grammar reveals just how deep some of these patterns run – and how much historical linguistics can supercharge your understanding and retention!

NLP takes language and makes sense of it

NLP with a side helping of Linguistics revision

I’ve been immersed in NLP a bit lately. That’s not Neuro Linguistic Programming – though it does confusingly share the acronym (and is well worth a look for brain-hackers). No, this NLP is Natural Language Processing, a branch of computational linguistics that engages with automated parsing and tagging of human language.

Anyway, I was looking for something ideally very recent and came across the 2024 Springer textbook A Course in Natural Language Processing by Yannis Haralambous. It’s the book form of a course the author spent ten years perfecting. And it’s just what I needed – a step-by-step intro and history to NLP, situating it within the latest pivot to LLMs.

But what I didn’t expect was that it doubles as a brilliant ‘fundamentals of linguistics’ revision. The book targets students learning about NLP in a number of disciplines, not least linguistics. But since linguistics is part and parcel of language processing tech, there’s a whole section to get non-linguists up to speed. And it’s not just the basics. The author squeezes a ton of grad-level concepts into some brilliantly terse overview chapters.

Why should I get excited about this? Am I not ‘already’ a linguist? Well, I am… but a sidestepping one, having spent most of my professional life in language pedagogy. These chapters cover the material I studied in my taught masters, but revisiting them from time to time never hurts. Learning later in life things that colleagues learnt in their youth just needs a bit of neural retreading, and it’s great to come across a book that supports all that necessary pre-knowledge.

Anyway, A Course in Natural Language Processing is a great, up-to-date intro to NLP if you’re looking for one. And if your formal linguistics is a little rusty, you’ll get a bonus refresher into the bargain.

Christmas 2024

Christmas Gifts for Language Lovers : 2024 Edition!

Linguists in your life and lost for present ideas? It’s that time of year again, when I crack open the bubbly, grab a seat by the fireside, and list my favourite language learning Christmas gifts of the year. And it’s been another cracking year for learners!

Here’s my round-up of gifts (that includes gifts to yourself, remember!).

Christmas for Linguists, 2024 Edition!

SCOTTISH GAELIC : A COMPREHENSIVE GRAMMAR

Christmas gifts 2024 - Scottish Gaelic - A Comprehensive Grammar

Christmas gifts 2024 – Scottish Gaelic – A Comprehensive Grammar

I won’t lie – this was my highlight of the year. On the surface, it’s clearly one for Gaelic learners, but Indo-European typologists and other fans will also be cheering for it.

We’ve been waiting for a Gaelic grammar as comprehensive as this for years, and this volume by William Lamb does not disappoint. It’s as thorough a take as I’ve ever seen, and chock full of real-world examples. While not for beginners (a little knowledge of basic syntax would be recommended for some chapters), it’s pretty much an essential companion for anyone studying the language seriously.

It’s another gem in the crown of Routledge’s long-loved grammar series. And with a second edition of Turkish being added to the Comprehensive cache next year, it looks bound to keep growing.

THE TRUTH ABOUT ENGLISH GRAMMAR

Christmas gifts 2024 - The Truth about English Grammar

Christmas gifts 2024 – The Truth about English Grammar

If the usual stuffy old style books leave you reeling, then this could be the grammar guide you’re looking for. It’s a really refreshing look at what counts as ‘good’ English, without the moralising and with an eye to language as a developing, living thing, and not a relic.

THE LANGUAGE PUZZLE : HOW WE TALKED OUR WAY OUT OF THE STONE AGE

Christmas gifts 2024 - The Language Puzzle

Christmas gifts 2024 – The Language Puzzle

We all love a good language origin story, and this year’s offering to the fray is Mithen’s excellent The Language Puzzle. It’s a great synthesis of current thinking on how we became talking apes, and very readable with it.

EUROVISION 2024 DVD

Christmas gifts 2024 - Eurovision DVD

Christmas gifts 2024 – Eurovision 2024 DVD

If you experienced this in the moment, you’ll remember as one of the most contentious contests of the show’s nearly 70 years of history. But it was also a great one for non-English entries, which you can enjoy in full HD in the peace of your own home now the dust has settled.

BRAVE NEW WORDS: HOW AI WILL REVOLUTIONIZE EDUCATION (AND WHY THAT’S A GOOD THING)

Christmas Gifts 2024 - Brave New Words

Christmas Gifts 2024 – Brave New Words

It wouldn’t be right if I didn’t squeeze an #AIEd book in here too, and Brave New Words is one of the best amongst a bumper crop. The clincher with this one is that its positivity is palpable. True, there’s a fair bit of plug for the author’s resources, but overall it’s a book full of ideas that look forward with excitement, rather than apprehension. Nice title too, playing on the currency of LLMs.

CHATGPT ADVANCED VOICE MODE

And of course, on the topic of AI, the big game-changer in AI for language learning this year was ChatGPT’s advanced voice mode. For a start, it much more closely mimics real conversation with more humanlike turn-taking. But it’s leagues better at speaking languages other than English, too. Impressively, this includes varieties of other languages. Just ask it to speak German with a Bavarian accent, or French as in Marseilles.

It will blow your socks off. Well worth the upgrade to Plus.

 

A neon style image of a robot with a speech bubble to illustrate the idea of Swedish proverbs as language learning material

Proverbs and Language Learning : From Folk Wisdom to Classroom

I’ve been crash-learning Swedish (well, side-stepping into it from Norwegian) more and more intensively of late. And one of the most pleasant linguistic detours I’ve made has been through the lush valleys of Swedish proverbs.

Proverbs and sayings have always been a favourite way in of mine when working on a language, and for several good reasons. Firstly, they’re short, and usually easier to remember by design so people could easily memorise and recite them. Secondly, they’re very often built around high-frequency structures (think X is like Y, better X than Y) that serve as effective language models.

Birds in a forest, a favourite trope of proverbs!

Bättre en fågel i handen än tio i skogen (Better one bird in the hand than ten in the forest)

But there’s another big pay-off to learning through proverbs that is more than the sum of their words. They pack a lot of meaning into a short space – drop them in and you’re calling to the conversation all the nuance they carry. Think of the grass is always greener… You don’t even need to mention the second, missing part of that English proverb, and it already calls to mind countless shared parables of misplaced dissatisfaction. And since they’re based on those parables and folk histories that ‘grew up’ alongside your target language, proverbs can grant us some fascinating cultural insights, too.

In short, master proverbs and you’ll sound like you really know what you’re talking about in the target language.

Finding Proverbs

For many target languages, you’ll likely be able to source some kind of proverbs compendium in a good bookshop, as they’re as much of interest to native speakers as they are to learners. When you do find a good one, compilations of sayings are the epitome of the dip-in-and-out book. I’ve picked up lots of Gaelic constructions and vocab leafing idly through Alexander Nicolson’s Gaelic Proverbs in my spare moments. It was definitely time for me to try the same with some Swedish.

Without a good Swedish bookshop to hand, though, I turned to the Internet in the meantime. A good place to start is to find out what “[your language] proverbs” is in your target language (it’s svenska ordspråk in Swedish), and see what a good search engine throws up.

Tala är silver, tiga är guld.

Tala är silver, tiga är guld (Talking is silver, silence is gold)

Local cultural institutions in particular can be rich sources of articles on folk wisdom like proverbs. There are some lovely sites and articles that introduce the wise words of svenska in digestible chunks. My handful of Swedish favourites below are each written for a native speaker audience. They all give potted backgrounds on the proverbs in Swedish, making for some great extra reading practice.

INSTITUTET FÖR SPRÅK OCH FOLKMINNEN

This folk-minded article is a wonderful introduction to Swedish proverbs, offering not only examples, but also exploring the characteristics of proverbs and what makes them ‘stick’. There’s a special section on sayings from the Gothenburg area too, which adds a nice local flavour.

TIDNINGEN LAND

This article from the Land publication offers 19 common Swedish proverbs in handy list format. Even more handily, it paraphrases each in order to explain their meaning. Great for working out what some of the more archaic words mean without reaching for the Swedish-English dictionary!

NORDISKA MUSEET

Nordiska Museet offers another well-curated list, with not only paraphrasing, but etymological information on the more difficult or outdated words.

The Proverbial AI

You can also tap the vast training banks of AI platforms for proverbial nuggets. Granted, the knowledge of LLMs like ChatGPT and Claude may not be complete – training data is only a subset of material available online – but AI does offer the advantage of activity creation with the material.

Try this prompt for starters:

Create a Swedish proverbs activity to help me practise my Swedish.
Choose five well-known proverbs, and replace a key word in each with a gap. I must choose the correct word for the gap from four alternatives in each case. Make some of the alternatives humorous! Add an answer key at the end of this quiz along with brief explanations of each proverb.

I managed to get some really fun quizzes out of this. Well worth playing around with for self-learning mini-worksheets!

A Swedish proverbs activity created by ChatGPT

A Swedish proverbs activity created by ChatGPT-4

AI platforms can also play a role as ‘proverb visualisers’, which is how I generated the images in this article. Proverbs can often employ some quite unusual imagery; letting picture generators loose on those can be a fantastic way to make them more memorable!

However you come across target language sayings and proverbs, you can learn a lot from these little chunks of wisdom. Do you have a favourite saying in any of the languages you’re studying? Let us know in the comments!

Language learning - making sense of the wall of words.

Playing with Words: How ‘The Language Game’ Can Boost Your Learning

It doesn’t happen too often, but now and again I come across a linguistics book that has some immediately liftable, transferable insights for language learners, both formal linguists and otherwise. So it was with The Language Game, my star read over a quiet Christmas up in Aberdeenshire this year.

As polyglots and language enthusiasts, we often get lost in the intricate maze of vocabulary lists, grammar rules, and perfect pronunciation. We diligently chase language as a concrete, unchanging entity, forgetting the exhilarating dance of meaning that is the true essence of language.

But what if we’ve been approaching language learning from a slightly skewed perspective?

The Language Game, Morten H. Christiansen and Nick Chater’s paradigm-changing exploration of the improvisational nature of language, suggests that maybe we have. They argue that, much like life itself, language is a constant improvisation and renegotiation of meaning. From the ever-shifting, multifaceted definitions of words like light and live (just think of all the different, often tenuously connected things they have come to mean), language isn’t a fixed system, but a dynamic game we play. At any point, we can recruit existing items in novel ways that suit our immediate needs. This game relies almost completely on context, arising from our in-the-moment desire to communicate rather than adhering to strict, unchanging rules.

What does this mean for us second (third, fourth etc.) language learners? It reminds us that language isn’t a static mountain to be conquered, but a playful river we navigate as it continues to change. The path forward lies not in rote memorisation, but in embracing the creative process of meaning-making in the moment.

Lessons from The Language Game

The Language Game is a compelling, accessibly written book and an easy read even if you don’t have a background in formal linguistics. I really recommend you dip in yourself to benefit from the insights inside it. In the meantime, here are the main polyglot takeaways that I found beneficial – all great rules to learn by as a foreign language enthusiast.

Meaning isn’t set in stone

Ease off on exact dictionary definitions and rigid rules. Focus on using words in context, adapting to the ever-evolving “language games” around you, consuming as much contemporary media as possible.

Context is King

Don’t downplay the role of setting in what words and sentences mean. If something doesn’t make sense, pull back to see the bigger picture, and have a stab at guessing from the context. Always close attention to the social landscape where language unfolds. Words are chameleons, their meaning shifting with the hues of the situation.

Mastery takes repetition

Even the expectation that toddlers incorporate ten new words perfectly into the mental lexicon is on shaky ground. Investigations into the infamous ‘cheem’ experiments reveal that kids grasp new concepts quickly, but lose them quickly without reinforcement.

Let go of the pressure to “gobble up” language in this way. Language use isn’t simply ‘learn it once and remember it forever’. It builds gradually, layer by layer, through repeated exposure and playful experimentation. Fleeting memory may fades, but repeated use cements meaning.

The Language Game is Just Charades

Gestures, context, and playful guessing guide our understanding. Just as children infer meaning from context, so too do we adults when we play charades. The metaphor of charades – using whatever is at hand to produce meaning in the mind of another – extends to everyday communication, too.

Embrace the guessing game – it’s a powerful learning tool. Guessing is good – don’t be afraid to take a leap of faith with a new word. Use it, even if you’re unsure.

Remember, language is a game, and games are meant to be fun. So let’s play!

The Language Game by Morten H. Christiansen and Nick Chater is available as a paperback and Kindle book from Amazon.

AI for Language Learners by Rich West-Soley; ChatGPT, Bing and more for your languages study

AI for Language Learners – Book Now Available!

It was a labour of love that happily took up most of my summer, and it’s finally out! I’m very chuffed to announce that my book AI for Language Learners is available on all Amazon stores.

 

The book is the product of months of tweaking, prodding and experimenting with emerging AI chat platforms. If you’re a Polyglossic regular, you’ll have seen some of those nascent techniques appear on the blog as I’ve developed and used them in my own learning. The blog has been a bedding ground for those first book ideas, and I’m thankful to everyone who has followed along with my own AI journey.

What we’ve come to call AI are, strictly speaking, actually large language models (LLMs). These LLMs arise from billions of words of training material – truly staggering amounts of data. The resulting super-text machines are perfect matches for subjects that benefit from a creative flair with words, and as language learners, wordplay is our currency. The book contains over 50 rich prompts for getting the absolute most out of AI’s impressive capacity for it.

The process has been huge fun. Of course, that’s thanks largely to the often unintentional humour our non-sentient friends ChatGPT, Bing and others. I try to get this across in the book, which has its fair share of lighthearted moments.

I hope you have as many smiles trying the recipes out as I did putting them together!

AI for Language Learners is available on Amazon Kindle (UK £2.99, US $2.99) or in paperback (UK £7.99, US $7.99). Even better: if you’re a Kindle Unlimited member, you can download and read it as part of your subscription.

Up the etymology garden path with ChatGPT

This week’s story starts with an instinct. I’ve been learning Swedish, which, as a Norwegian speaker, has advantages and disadvantages. One downside is the need to fight the assumption that the vocabulary of each matches up exactly with an identical etymology, when this is so often patently untrue.

In fact, Norwegian and Swedish have walked separate paths long enough for all sorts of things to happen to their individual vocabularies. For instance, take trist and ledsen, both meaning sad in Norwegian and Swedish respectively. Adding ledsen to my list of Swedish differences (I’m using my Swedish Anki deck just for the differing words), I started wondering about the etymology of both. Norwegian trist, clearly, I thought, is a French borrowing, probably via Danish. On the other hand, ledsen looks like it was inherited from the North Germanic parent language.

ChatGPT Etymology

Since I’m exploring the use of AI for language learning both personally and professionally at the moment, it seemed like a good test case for a chat. I went straight in with it: is the Norwegian word trist a borrowing from French?

But shockingly, ChatGPT was resolute in its rejection of that hypothesis. The AI assistant insisted that it’s from a Nordic root þrjóstr, the same that gives us þrjóstur (stubborn) in Modern Icelandic, with the variant þristr which seems to have evolved into Modern Norwegian trist.

Now, the thing with ChatGPT is that it can be so convincing. That’s entirely thanks to the very adept use of natural language in a conversational format. The bot simply speaks with an authoritative voice like it knows what it’s talking about.

So it must be true, right?

Manual Etymology

At this point, it all felt a bit off. I just had to do some manual digging to check. In Bokmål cases like these, my first port of call is the Norsk Akademi Ordbok. If there is an authority on Norwegian words, there’s little that comes close.

So I key in trist, and – lo and behold – it is a French borrowing.

The entry for 'trist' in the Norwegian Academy's Dictionary, showing its etymology.

The entry for ‘trist’ in the Norwegian Academy’s Dictionary, showing its etymology.

There’s no mention of Danish, just the French and the Latin that comes from. I suspect, with a bit of digging, it might turn out to have been borrowed into Danish first, but NAOB is definitive. Not a hint of Norse etymology.

Now there’s a chance ChatGPT knows something that NAOB doesn’t, although I doubt it. More likely, it’s just the innate talent the emergent AI has for winging it, and making best guesses. That’s what makes it so powerful, but, like human guesses, it’s also what makes it fallible just now. It’s a timely reminder to double-check AI-generated facts for the time being.

And maybe, to just trust your own instinct.

Blue hearts on a blue background - missing someone can make the heart feel blue. Image from freeimages.com.

Missing Me, Missing You : A Typology of “I Miss You”

Amongst the first snippets of foreign language we learn are often those expressing everyday emotional connection. The language of missing is usually somewhere in the mix.

There’s quite an interesting split in how languages express I miss you. I spot two big camps, although there are more for sure. The first of these two biggies has the person doing the missing as the subject of the active verb:

English I miss you
Finnish kaipaan sinua
German ich vermisse dich
Icelandic ég sakna þín
Polish tęsknię za tobą
Spanish te echo de menos
Swahili ninakukosa
Turkish seni özlerim

But in the second camp, the person being missed is the active subject. The person feeling the absence will be in an oblique or dative case:

Albanian më mungon
French tu me manques
Greek μου λείπεις (mou lípis)
Hungarian hiányzol ‘you are missing’ – the ‘me’ is understood
Italian mi manchi
Serbian nedostaješ mi

Who’s Missing Whom?

The split is primarily a semantic one, with verbs tending to express either the emotional work of missing, or the state of being missing or absent. Some languages, of course, use totally different constructions, like the idiomatic Spanish echar de menos, although the doer here is still clear: it’s the person doing the missing. The same goes for other languages that use completely different constructions, like Japanese and Korean, which commonly use some version of I want to see you.

The dividing lines are most interesting because they don’t necessarily follow language family groups. Romance, Finno-Ugric and Slavic languages straddle both tables. There’s some evidence of the Balkan sprachbund in the second table, perhaps, but it seems largely chance which kind of phrasing a language ends up on.

Whether it is chance or not is hard to say. Surprisingly, it doesn’t appear that many linguists have attempted to answer that question, since a literature search turns up very little. Does anything in particular prompt a language to drift towards the ‘active misser’ or ‘active missed’ route? Is it a cultural difference? And could the construction even impact how we think of missing itself, or is it a chance mapping of syntax onto feelings?

For now, then, it’s just another of those little quirks we have to register when we learn a new foreign language. Perhaps more fundamentally, it’s simply another hue or picture setting to marvel at in the human kaleidoscope of modes of expression.

Have you come across other configurations in the typology of “I miss you”? And do you have your own inklings around an explanation? Let us know in the comments!

The movement of atoms. The morpheme could be called the atom of language. Image from freeimages.com.

Houston, We Have A Morpheme Problem

It was in Greek class that I realised it. I have a morpheme problem.

Yes, those pesky little indivisible chunks of languagey-ness are causing me grief. The exact nature of that grief is a regular mixing up of pronouns and possessives with s- (you) and t- (him/his/her), to the amusement of my teacher.

Πού είναι ο μπαμπάς του… ΣΟΥ; Pou íne o babás tou… SOU?
Where is his… YOUR dad?

The source? Probably the romance languages I’ve learned, where the correspondence is reversed. French has ton (your) and son (his/her), for example, while Spanish has tu and su. The romance you/he/she attachment to those tiny little chunks has reasserted itself temporarily (I hope) to wreak happy havoc.

Yes, interference is real, and it’s not just about whole words – it’s a morpheme thing, too.

Morpheme Madness

In reality, it’s nothing to worry about. It’s a natural by-product of a brain built for pattern-spotting, and studies of bilingual infants show that we’re well-equipped to remedy it in the natural course. I can talk about it now because I realised I was doing it, and self-corrected along the way.

But what else can I do about in the immediate term?

Much of it is to do with voice, at least for me. Cultivating distinct voices for each language you learn is a great way to compartmentalise and separate. But unless you’re a gifted impressionist, your repertoire might be limited, and you might have to double up. I realised my Greek voice was suspiciously like my Spanish one., all faux-masterful and brooding. No doubt a bit of clowning around and trying new accents on might help there.

But it’s an ideal case for mass-sentence training too, which I’d become lax with of late. Glossika has a ton of sentences including those little σου and του, and an extra five or ten minutes of training a day will – I hope – re-cement the little imps into my Hellenic pathways.

Have you noticed interference between your languages at the morpheme level? What are your strategies for re-enforcing separation? Let us know in the comments!