Welcome to today's Deep Dive. I am so thrilled
you are joining us today. It's going to be a
really good one. It is, because today we are
embarking on a very specific kind of mission.
We're going to uncover a linguistic ghost story.
Oh, I love that phrasing. A ghost story. Right.
And we're doing this by exploring a really fascinating
compilation of research from a single source,
all about a completely extinct language. It's
a topic that raises some massive, I mean... Truly
profound questions about history and memory and
science. Yeah, how modern science actually pieces
together the past. Exactly. It really forces
us to confront how fragile human culture can
be, but also, you know, how much information
can be extracted from the tiniest of remnants.
Provided researchers actually know how to look
at them. Right. So I want you to imagine something.
Imagine trying to reverse engineer an entire
culture's worldview. Their daily habits, their
environment. All of it. Their relationships,
everything. from just a handful of isolated nouns
and verbs. It sounds impossible. It really does.
But that is the exact challenge linguists face
with what is known as the Norman Tasmanian language.
Because we have this vast historical tapestry
of Australian, Aboriginal and Tasmanian languages.
I mean, it's a staggering amount of linguistic
diversity. Huge. But right in the middle of all
this research, we find this one hyper specific,
incredibly isolated puzzle piece. A single fragment
from a massive lost jigsaw puzzle. puzzle. And
to help us navigate this really delicate, complex
material, I have our resident expert here. I'm
ready when you are. There is a lot beneath the
surface of this research. There really is. So
here is our journey today. First, we are going
to look at the mysterious origins of the Norman
vocabulary. The manuscript itself. Exactly. Then
we'll look at how modern science actually cracked
its code before we zoom out to look at the massive
landscape of Australian and Tasmanian languages
it belongs to. And finally, we'll explore the
history and the modern legacy of the people behind
these words. Okay, let's unpack this. Let's start
with the core mystery itself. Our entire knowledge
of the Norman Tasmanian language comes down to
a single manuscript. From the 19th century. Right.
It's quite literally nicknamed the Norman vocabulary.
But what does that actually look like in practice?
Well. The historical records give us some very
stark, almost jarring numbers to anchor this.
This entire linguistic footprint, everything
we know about how these specific people communicated,
consists of exactly 386 words. 386 words. That's
it. I mean, that is essentially just a couple
of pages of notes. It's barely enough to fill
a modern brochure. Barely. And who actually wrote
it down? The records indicate it was recorded
by a man named Charles Sterling. Okay. Charles
Sterling. Yeah. And he compiled these words in
a place called Sorrel in Tasmania during the
19th century. So we have a name and a place.
We do. But beyond his name and that location,
the context is incredibly thin. Which brings
up a massive question. Who was he talking to?
Who were the actual speakers? providing these
386 words to Sterling. What's fascinating here
is the sheer volume of unknowns surrounding that
one simple interaction. The research tells us
the language was presumably spoken somewhere
in the northeast of Tasmania. Presumably. Yes.
But the specific tribe, completely unidentified.
Wow. The exact original location of the speakers.
Unrecorded. It is officially classified today
as an extinct language from the 19th century.
Sterling wrote down those 386 words in Sorel,
and the rest is silence. Absolute silence. We
don't have recorded sentences or conversational
grammar rules. No cultural context. Just an isolated
list of vocabulary. I really want you, the listener,
to pause and think about the weight of that manuscript.
Imagine your entire culture. Your family's history.
The inside jokes you share. The specific way
you describe the weather or your hometown. Imagine
all that being boiled down to just 386 words.
And written down by a complete outsider. Exactly.
And that single piece of paper becoming the only
proof your language ever existed at all. It is
a profoundly sobering thought. And for a long
time, that manuscript was just an anomaly sitting
in an archive. A lingering question mark. Was
it a complete language? Was it a dialect? Maybe
just a list of regional slang? Without living
speakers, nobody really knew. Nobody knew. So
we had this isolated list of words from the 1800s.
How did we get from a dusty archive to actually
understanding what this language was? This is
where modern science steps in. Here's where it
gets really interesting. The research highlights
a major scientific breakthrough published in
2012. Yes, in the Proceedings of the Royal Society
B Biological Sciences. Right. It's a highly prestigious
peer -reviewed journal. The paper is titled The
Riddle of Tasmanian Languages, authored by researcher
Claire Bowern. I'm really curious about the methodology
here. How do you take a static list of 386 words
and prove anything new about it centuries later?
It sounds like magic, doesn't it? It does. How
does she know this wasn't just a slightly different
accent of a neighboring language? That is exactly
what Bowern set out to answer. She used modern
linguistic reconstructions by meticulously examining
this tiny data set against other known languages
from the region. She compared them. Yes. She
looked at the phonetics, the structure of the
words, the root meanings. Linguists look for
patterns of divergence. Like how sounds shift
over time. Exactly. Or how core vocabulary differs
from nearby groups. Through this deep analysis,
she proved that this Norman vocabulary was not
just a regional dialect. that had recently branched
off. It was an entirely distinct language. Completely
distinct. That is incredible. A few hundred words
on a piece of paper and centuries later, a researcher
can mathematically prove it was a unique, independent
branch of human communication. It was an absolute
breakthrough. Her 2012 reconstructions, particularly
the supplement to her paper, elevated the Norman
vocabulary from a mere historical curiosity to
an independent branch on the tree of human language.
It's such a brilliant example of how modern analytical
techniques can breathe new understanding into
centuries old data. Absolutely. But despite that
massive scientific validation, this language
remains incredibly marginalized in the official
administrative records. Highly marginalized.
Before we started recording, we were looking
at how this language is formally classified today
and it's almost paradoxical. It is. When you
look at the standard administrative classification
systems that global linguists and anthropologists
use, you see something highly unusual. Yeah.
There is no glottalogue code for the Norman Tasmanian
language. Let's clarify that for the listener
real quick. Yeah. What exactly is a glottalogue
code and why does it matter if a language doesn't
have one? Think of glottalogue codes, along with
ISO codes, as essentially the Dewey Decimal System
for human language. Okay. They are the international
standards used to catalog, track, and manage
every known language on Earth. If a language
doesn't have one of these codes, it effectively
doesn't exist in the modern administrative eyes
of global linguistics. So it's how researchers
track data, secure funding, maintain global databases.
Precisely. And the normal language just doesn't
have one. No glottalogue code at all. Furthermore,
its ISO 639 -3 code, which is the gold standard
for international language coding, is listed
simply as MIS, which stands for none. None. It's
literally off the grid. Administratively and
scientifically, yes. To have no formal ISO or
glottalogue code. emphasizes how incredibly rare,
isolated, and fragmentary this linguistic artifact
is. It exists in the sophisticated reconstructions
of Claire Bowen. And in the fading ink of Charles
Sterling. But it defies the neat, standardized
categorization systems we rely on today. It slips
right through the administrative cracks. It's
a linguistic ghost. But obviously, it didn't
exist in a vacuum. It was part of a larger continent
of people and an entire network of communication.
Right. If we connect this to the bigger picture,
we have to look at the massive taxonomy of Australian,
Aboriginal, and Tasmanian languages. It's a phenomenal
map of human diversity. It really puts this one
small vocabulary list into proper perspective.
It does. Looking at the broader linguistic map,
you see massive family groups like Pomanyungan,
which covers huge swaths of the Australian mainland.
Yes. You see the northern families, the central,
the western, the tankic, the daily river groups.
It is an absolute ocean of languages. And down
at the very bottom of this massive geographical
and linguistic map, we find the Tasmanian family
level groups. And this is where we see exactly
where Norman fits into the puzzle. It belongs
to the northeastern Tasmanian language family.
But it wasn't alone in that northeastern family,
was it? Not at all. It sits alongside other completely
distinct languages like Pimaire, Tire Note Panner,
and the Latsky or Black House language. When
you hear those names, it immediately challenges
the assumption that an island community would
be somewhat uniform. Right, you'd think an island
might just have one language. Exactly. The geographic
proximity of these groups is what makes the distinctiveness
of the languages so compelling. To really understand
the linguistic landscape of Tasmania before these
languages faded, we have to walk through the
other family -level groups across the island.
Let's do it. There was the Western group, which
included a northwestern Tasmanian language known
as Pirupper, and potentially a southwestern language
called Tugi. And moving across the compass points,
you have the northern group encompassing the
northern Tasmanian language, Tamagin, and the
Port Sorrel language. Then finally, the eastern
group. This cluster included Oyster Bay, which
is also known as Paraderm, Little Swanport, the
southeast Tasmanian language, New Anon, and the
Bruny Island language. When you look at the eastern
group alone, Oyster Bay, Little Swanport, Bruny
Island, it tells you something profound. What's
that? Even geographically closed communities
had completely distinct linguistic identities,
rather than just blending into one uniform dialect.
Tasmania wasn't just some linguistically uniform
island where everyone spoke the same way. It
was incredibly diverse. It was a rich, vibrant
tapestry of distinct voices and distinct ways
of interpreting the environment. A deeply complex,
multilingual society. People likely had to navigate
multiple languages just to trade, negotiate,
or interact with neighboring communities. And
the Norman Tasmanian language, with its 386 surviving
words, was just one single thread in that vast
tapestry. Which makes the loss of all that diversity
so profoundly staggering. So what does this all
mean? We've talked about Charles Sterling's manuscript.
We've talked about Claire Bowen's 2012 scientific
reconstruction. We've mapped out this massive
taxonomy. But we have to address the heavy context
sitting right at the center of all this research.
Why are we looking at a map of languages that
all went extinct in the 19th century? What exactly
caused an entire island's linguistic diversity
to vanish? To understand the linguistic extinction,
we must look directly at the historical events
linked to the Aboriginal Tasmanians during this
era. Okay. The records provide a clear, unflinching
timeline of events under the heading of Aboriginal
history. These are the devastating 19th century
events that fundamentally altered the demographic
and linguistic landscape of Tasmania. What are
the specific turning points that the historical
records point to? The historical framework centers
on the Black War, the Cape Grim Massacre, the
1828 Proclamation of Demarcation, and the establishment
of the Waibelena Aboriginal establishment. These
are intense historical markers. They aren't just
shifts in policy. They represent profound physical
displacement. Absolutely. They correspond chronologically
with the exact period when languages like Norman
began to vanish. I see. The Black War and the
Cape Grim Massacre represent periods of intense,
violent conflict between European settlers and
Aboriginal populations. And then the Proclamation
of Demarcation. Right. The 1828 Proclamation
of Demarcation effectively sought to forcefully
separate Aboriginal people from European settlers.
them out of their ancestral lands. And the final
event listed, the Waibelina Aboriginal Establishment.
This wasn't just a relocation, it was an institutionalization.
Exactly. People from various distinct linguistic
groups, those eastern, western, northern, and
northeastern families we just mapped out, were
removed from their lands and placed together
in this establishment on Flinders Island. Precisely.
When you forcibly remove a community from the
specific environment that shaped their vocabulary.
The environment they've known for generations.
Yes. And when you disrupt the intergenerational
transmission of culture through conflict and
institutionalization, the language inevitably
suffers. It fades. Understanding these events
provides the crucial why. It explains why this
incredibly diverse map of languages faded. It
is the direct reason why the Norman language
was reduced to a single 386 -word manuscript
recorded in Sorrel. The people who spoke these
languages were navigating immense existential
threats. They were. And we have to remember,
these weren't just abstract linguistic anomalies
or historical statistics. The research highlights
specific Aboriginal figures tied to this era.
Individuals whose lives directly intersected
with this period of massive cultural upheaval.
It is so essential to ground this history in
the actual people who lived it. The records honor
figures like Trigoni, who is often a central
figure in histories of this era. And Fannie Cochran
Smith, who actually recorded some of the only
existing audio of traditional Tasmanian Aboriginal
songs on wax cylinders. That audio exists. It
does. Wow. The historical record also lists William
Lamb, Dolly Dalrymple, and Mammal Argena, who
was a prominent leader and seer, along with others
like Waba Dabar, Daniel Geale, Le Guineminer,
Michael Mansell, Ricky Maynard, Touter, and We're
Ready. Reading those names out loud anchors the
history and humanity. When we talk about the
Norman language going extinct or the new and
known or parapper languages fading, we are talking
about the loss of the lived worlds of Trugani,
Manalarjena, and their ancestors. A language
isn't just a tool for getting a point across.
It's a repository of a specific human perspective.
When it is lost, a unique way of interpreting
the universe is lost with it. It is. It can feel
incredibly bleak staring at that word extinct.
next to all these intricate, beautiful languages
in the taxonomy. This raises an important question.
What happens after a language is officially classified
as extinct by the academic community? Is that
just the end of the line? Is it? Because the
research suggests that it actually isn't. It
absolutely isn't. And this is the part of the
deep dive that I find incredibly hopeful. Me
too. If you look closely at the very end of the
Tasmanian languages taxonomy, past the northern,
the northeastern, and the eastern groups, there
is a final distinct category. It is labeled constructed.
Constructed. And underneath that, it lists one
language. Kalawakani. Kalawakani. This is a crucial
detail to synthesize for you, the listener. When
we see the term constructed in this context,
it isn't like a fictional language created for
a sci -fi movie. Right. It's not made up from
nothing. Not at all. It represents an ongoing,
highly resilient effort by the modern aboriginal
community in Tasmania to reconstruct and synthesize
their indigenous languages today. So they're
taking those isolated fragments, like the 386
words of the Norman vocabulary and the remaining
fragments from Pure Rapper and New Anon and all
those other languages, and they are actively
bringing them back into daily use. Exactly. Even
when original, distinct languages like Norman
lose their native speakers due to the devastating
historical events we outlined, the desire to
connect with that linguistic heritage remains
deeply ingrained. And Palauakani is the physical,
spoken evidence of that resilience. It shows
that while the Norman language as it existed
in the 19th century might be scientifically classified
as extinct, the words themselves are still profoundly
valued. They're being carefully woven into a
new living framework. Yes. It is like finding
those scattered puzzle pieces and finally putting
them together to form a brand new picture. It
won't look exactly like the linguistic landscape
from a thousand years ago. But it is made of
them. very same material. It is a modern rebirth.
It's a testament to the fact that language is
never truly gone as long as there are people
who care enough to speak it, to study it, or
even just to remember it. The work of researchers
like Claire Bowen in 2012, proving the distinctness
of the Norman vocabulary, feeds directly into
this larger understanding of what was lost. And
that scientific understanding, in turn, helps
inform the modern efforts to reclaim it. What
a journey this has been today. From a tiny, overlooked
vocabulary list to a massive story about human
resilience. Let's do a quick recap of what we've
covered today. Sounds good. We started with the
sheer isolation of Charles Sterling's manuscript.
Just 386 words recorded in Sorrel, Tasmania in
the 19th century, representing a completely unidentified
tribe. We then looked at how modern science stepped
in. Specifically, Claire Bowen's 2012 paper in
the Proceedings of the Royal Society B, which
reconstructed those words to prove they represented
a completely distinct language. Even though it
remains off the grid without an official glottalogue
or ISO code today. Right. We zoomed out to see
where Norman fit within the massive, diverse
taxonomy of Australian, Aboriginal, and Tasmanian
languages, nesting it alongside PMR and Ternopanner
in the Northeastern family. Illustrating just
how vibrantly diverse the island truly was. And
we examined the devastating 19th century historical
context. Events like the Black War, the Cape
Grim Massacre, and the institutionalization at
Weeblenna. The events that drove these languages
to extinction. While honoring the names of the
aboriginal people from that era who lived through
that upheaval. Finally, we looked at the legacy
of this history, finding hope in the constructed
language Palawakani. Which proves that the desire
to speak and remember these languages is still...
very much alive today i want to leave you the
listener with one final thought to mull over
We spent a lot of time today talking about Charles
Sterling's manuscript. 386 words. Such a small
number. It is a staggeringly small number. If,
centuries from now, a future linguist only had
386 words to completely understand the nuances,
the humor, the deep relationships, and the depth
of your daily life and your community, which
specific words would you desperately hope made
it onto that list? What words define your world
so completely that you couldn't bear for them
to be lost to history? Oh, wow. That is a powerful
question to end on. Which 386 words define you?
I'll be thinking about that all day. Thank you
so much for joining us on this deep dive. We
loved exploring this linguistic ghost story with
you, and we can't wait to see you next time as
we unpack another fascinating topic. Until then,
keep asking questions and keep exploring.