The Real Debate: Language as Utility vs. Language as Identity

The other day, I wrote about sound as a barrier, thanks to technology. However, any news channel I tune into is debating India’s National Education Policy (NEP) 2020—specifically, the three-language formula in schools. The policy aims to promote multilingualism and cultural integration by ensuring that students learn three languages, with at least two being native to India, while not imposing any specific language. (NEP 2020 - Wikipedia)

Here, too, language can be both a bridge and a barricade. It connects people, cultures, and ideas, yet it also draws boundaries—defining who belongs and who does not. Recent media reports about tensions with 'non-locals' in Bangalore and Pune are symptoms of a deeper issue. The Gokak agitation of the 1980s and the anti-Hindi protests of the 1960s remind us that this debate has persisted for decades.

The three-language formula is an elegant compromise on paper—a way to balance national unity, local identity, and global relevance. In practice, however, it has become a point of resistance. Some states have rejected it outright, while in others, it has turned into an academic burden rather than a meaningful exercise in linguistic assimilation.

Now, as the government moves toward enforcing the three-language rule, a larger question looms: Does the ability to speak multiple languages still matter as it once did? Or are we clinging to an outdated model of learning in a world where technology is redefining knowledge itself?

Historically, knowing multiple languages wasn’t just an educational requirement—it was a means of survival. In medieval courts, fluency in Sanskrit, Persian, and local vernaculars determined one’s proximity to power. Trade routes weren’t just physical networks; they were linguistic ones. A merchant in the Mughal era needed to navigate a polyglot world of Arabic numerals, Persian accounts, and local dialects to do business.

Even in colonial India, language was both a tool of control and a ladder for aspiration. English became the language of administration and upward mobility, while native tongues were sidelined. In response, leaders like Gandhi and Tagore insisted that true education could only happen in one's mother tongue.

But the world that once demanded linguistic versatility has changed. If language was once power, today, power lies in making language irrelevant.

However, today, technology has erased barriers that once seemed insurmountable. With real-time translation apps, speech-to-text tools, and AI-driven communication, the question is no longer How many languages do you speak? but Why do you need to speak them at all?

Learning a language is hard. It requires sustained effort, practice, and immersion. The process forces the mind to wrestle with new structures, ways of thinking, and cultural contexts. For centuries, this struggle was valued—not just for the end result (fluency) but for the cognitive sharpening it provided.

But we now live in an era where struggle is seen as inefficiency. Why wrestle with conjugations and syntax when a device can translate for you? Why train the brain to navigate a new linguistic landscape when AI can bridge the gap instantly? The modern world is designed to remove friction—reducing the time between desire and fulfilment. And language learning, with all its complexities, is increasingly viewed as unnecessary friction.

We see this shift in other areas too. The need to memorise facts has faded with Google. Mental math has been replaced by calculators. I doubt today’s students even know what a Clarke’s table for logarithms is. Even writing, once considered a fundamental skill, is now outsourced to AI tools that generate flawless prose at the push of a button.

The three-language formula assumes that mastering languages is still an essential skill for the future. But is it? Or is it merely an academic relic—an act of compliance rather than a meaningful investment in learning?

More than meets the eye, the debate about compulsory language learning is about what we value. If the goal is practicality, the argument for mandatory language study is weak. The world is moving toward hyper-connectivity, where machines can effortlessly bridge linguistic divides. In such a world, insisting that every child learn three languages feels more like an exercise in nostalgia than a necessity.

But language is more than a tool. It is identity, culture, and memory. A language carries within it a way of seeing the world that no translation app can replicate. When a language dies, an entire way of thinking dies with it.

Perhaps, then, the focus should not be on compulsory language learning but on meaningful language learning. Instead of forcing students to memorise grammar rules for exams, we should teach them to experience a language—to engage with its stories, humour, and idioms. Instead of treating language as just another subject, we should integrate it into daily life in ways that make it come alive.

Because if the only reason we insist on the three-language formula is that it was decided decades ago, then we are not preserving knowledge—we are merely preserving bureaucracy.

The world is changing. The way we think about language must change with it.