The Revival of Scottish Gaelic Through Education By Michael McIn ...

—E. Shorris (2000, p. 42)

Language death refers to a phenomenon that is particular to our age. In the contemporary sense, the term does not refer to the fate of a language such as Latin. Even though few people actually speak the language in its ancient form, the language of the Caesars has “evolved into the Romance Languages so that it is possible to maintain that ‘modern Latin’ is still heard on the boulevards of Paris or the piazzas of Rome” (Jones, 1998, p. 4). Also, it should be held in mind that a language may die because its speakers die out rapidly, such as happened with the Tasmanians within a very short time of their contact with Europeans in the 19th century (1998); more frequently in our age, a language is said to die when its native speakers cease to speak it in favor of some other, more dominant language.

David Crystal (2000) estimated that within the next 100 years, 90% of humanity's languages are expected to die. Even now, more than half of the living languages are not being effectively passed on to the next generation. More than 80% of the world's languages are spoken by fewer than 100,000 speakers each; of those languages, more than half are spoken by less than 10,000 speakers each. The languages in this latter group are especially vulnerable to language death.

Some people may not be disturbed by the prospect of languages extinguishing like so many guttering candles. As we live in a post-Darwinian age, we are used to hearing arguments about the suitability of things, whether animal, cultural, or economic, based upon their ability to survive. Sheer “fitness” proves worthiness and value. That being so, would not the very fact that a language dies be nothing more than a testament to the fact that it was not fit? That somewhere along the line, it lost its justification to exist? And that it, like a dodo, not undeservedly died because it was simply too stupid to get out of the way of other stronger, “smarter” languages?