all communication is approximation - day 26

Language is often mistaken for the foundation of meaning, but what if meaning precedes language entirely? What if words are not the birthplace of ideas, but rather the imperfect tools we use to transfer what we already understand?

Take, for example, a Spanish speaker learning English. They might attempt to say, The football club is the best it can be, but instead say: The football club is already there, there. The phrase is incorrect by grammatical standards, but something about it still works—it conveys the idea that the club has reached the peak of its potential, even though “there” is the wrong word in English. In that moment, they aren’t just struggling with language; they are reaching for meaning, trying to package a concept into the closest words they have available.

This suggests that meaning is not confined to words. Instead, it moves fluidly between them, finding expression in whatever way it can. Misnaming, then, is not simply an error—it’s a revelation. It shows that meaning is a force of its own, independent of linguistic correctness.

Words, in this sense, are just placeholders. They don’t contain meaning so much as they point toward it, like signs on a road. The word congratulations doesn’t inherently mean happiness—it has simply become linked to the feeling over time, compressed into a shorthand that allows us to express joy quickly. In the same way, words like love, success, loss, and peace are not the emotions themselves; they are just convenient labels, cramming entire worlds of experience into a few syllables.

This raises a question: If meaning can exist without words, does language shape thought, or does thought shape language? Traditionally, we assume that we need words to think, that language gives structure to our ideas. But if people can grasp meaning before they can fully express it—if a learner can fumble through a sentence and still make themselves understood—then maybe thought exists independently of language. Maybe language is just the net we cast, trying to catch something much bigger.

This could explain why, when learning a new language, people sometimes use the wrong words but still communicate the right idea. It’s not just about translating words; it’s about translating meaning, and meaning is slippery, shifting between languages, never quite contained by them.

So perhaps all communication is an approximation. Perhaps no word ever fully captures what we mean, only gestures toward it. And if that’s the case, then meaning is something deeper, something pre-existing, something that exists before and beyond language itself.