Britain has abandoned the skills we need to survive a new Cold War

The year is 1962. A US spy plane photographs Soviet Nuclear sites under construction in Cuba. In the following days, the US raises the readiness of its nuclear forces to the highest level short of war. At the height of the tension, an American News Correspondent and a KGB station chief meet in a Chinese restaurant. This starts a chain of delicate meetings, letter exchanges and fraught translations that not only pull the world back from the brink of war but also foster de-escalation and disarmament.

The story is one of the 20th century’s most eye-catching and compelling examples of the power of language. Only through instinctive and nuanced understanding could peace be achieved. At one point, when the Soviet Premier sent two conflicting letters, the US had to decide which to respond to. It was the most heightened moment in the crisis. Making the correct choice may just have been one of the most consequential decisions in human history.

It is because of stories like this that I take extremely seriously the warnings from linguists this month about the potential neglect of their craft when it comes to defence, in favour of fields like robotics, AI and cybersecurity. None of this is to say that those aren’t enormously important fields, but as illustrated above, sometimes there is no substitute for traditional skills like linguistics.

In the words of Britain’s ambassador to Moscow during the Cold War, linguists are ‘every bit as important for keeping the country safe as the armed forces’. In short, languages shouldn’t be seen as a nice-to-have, but instead a national security necessity. One needed not just to keep us safe, but to enable the vital work of bringing the temperature down at a time when it seems to only be rising.

Language learning’s national security can be split into three key areas: nuance, strategy and connection.

Let’s start with nuance. When one learns a language, they obviously learn how to speak the words and use the grammar, and then they learn how to negotiate the various quirks of that language. They learn not just what is said but what is implied. What is meant as a joke and what should be perceived as a slight or an insult. What’s anger, and what’s passion.

This is where the direct strategic benefit comes in, beyond just the aspect of diplomacy defined by country-to-country negotiation. When you learn a language, you also learn about the culture and the society itself, from which the language is born. You gain a rich understanding of a foreign culture, something that is key for any work intended to de-escalate a tension or conflict.

During the Cold War, Western nations became heavily invested in fostering and developing scholarship and analysis around geopolitics. The famous generation of Cold War ‘country experts’ was the fruit of this intuition, and was crucial in helping world leaders understand the complex network of countries and alliances that characterised that period of history. Because of their proficiency with language and familiarity with other cultures, they could interpret signals, decipher codes and build trust with local sources.

Which brings me to the third benefit: connection. It cannot be overstated the power language has to endear us to each other. I have no doubt that in international crises, part of the success of diplomacy has come down to both sides speaking in a common language, engendering closeness as well as a sense of respect and empathy.

To illustrate this, try a quick thought experiment. Imagine going up to a stranger in a foreign country and using live translation to ask them where you should go for dinner. Then imagine the same scenario, but you’re asking them in their native language. It’s easy to imagine the different response you might get, and the hidden gem that you might find out about by taking the latter approach.

A critic might say that investing more in AI will make language learning effectively obsolete. While AI is obviously a crucial and revolutionary tool in all areas of society, including language, it has its limits. For real-time translation and interpretation, it has extraordinary utility, but when the stakes are incredibly high, and any misinterpretation or failure to understand a specificity could prove fatal, it is experts with a wealth of knowledge of the language that should be relied upon. In the three areas I mentioned above: nuance, connection and strategy, AI in its current form is an imperfect tool.

During the Cuban Missile Crisis, letters were painstakingly typed, translated and then cabled between the two world leaders. As any translator will tell you, the act of translating relies on a large degree of interpretation and instinct. The people translating these memos had enormous pressure on their shoulders to get it right. They relied upon their years of scholarship to make the right call, a call they knew they would be held accountable for if they were wrong. Imagine a modern scenario in which the British or American governments, in an escalating situation, have to translate and respond to communications from Beijing, Tehran or Moscow. You wouldn't want them doing that job using ChatGPT.

Although I am speaking here about defence, this is a lesson for any business or relationship that operates on a global scale. We cannot allow all of our communication across languages to take place through AI alone, a practice that ironically disconnects us rather than brings us closer together. Understanding, connection and trust can only be built through direct and genuine discussion.

The Bulletin of Atomic Scientists Doomsday Clock is currently at the closest point to midnight that it’s ever been, denoting that we are closer to global catastrophe than we have ever been in human history. All of the challenges that have pushed us to this point - Climate change, nuclear proliferation, AI - demand that the whole world work together. These are challenges of such enormity that no one nation can do it alone. As divided as we sometimes seem, I’m optimistic about the possibility of global cooperation, and the foundation of that cooperation is language. The more we neglect it, the further apart we are from each other.

Returning to the Cold War, where this piece began. It teaches us that miscommunication and misunderstanding can be fatal, with the potential destruction of humanity on the line. But it also teaches us that sharing language can lead to a future built on cooperation and not conflict.

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Sophie Vignoles is a Linguist at the language learning app Babbel

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