
(Everything that gets) Lost in Translation
Published: 3/8/2025
I have been thinking about everything that gets lost in translation, as the name of the famous Coppola movie. When we translate from other languages to English, some concepts, ideas, and feelings are not directly translated, so we amputate the sharing of meaning by trying to construe interpretable words. That is why translation is so big, not to give the literal meaning of each concept, but to make sense of ideas and make them digestible for us.
For example, take the Japanese concept of ‘Wabi-sabi,’ a view centered on the acceptance of transience and imperfection, or the Portuguese ‘Saudade,’ a deep emotional state of nostalgic longing for something absent. These words encapsulate complex emotional states that often require extensive explanations in English and can’t be expressed through simple words. In these cases, it is useful to resort to other ways to transmit meaning, aesthetics, or even better, music.
Gilberto & Gilmar — Música Da Saudade
Every time we read something originally written in another language, we read the interpretation of a translator. It gets too noisy in that translation, I mean, we are already trying to understand the ideas of another person, which is in itself a complicated task.
That is why scholars argue that every translation is, in fact, an act of interpretation, involving choices that extend beyond mere words.
We can agree that we lose in translation when we go from one language to another and try to navigate between abstract concepts. But we lose even more when we try to convert what we think is good for us into actions. We often misinterpret our needs when we try to render our thoughts into conduct.
For example, as an economist, I have noticed people are terrible at translating their core values into support for public policies. This might be due to two things: One, when we choose values, we tend to form them concerning groups, by association with one group, or separation from another. We generally do not analyze the core principles underneath certain groups; we go for easier association with our similar peers. If all our friends admire someone, we might tend to also admire that person without really questioning their values. Second, in this specific context, it is hard to estimate the exact impact of certain policies, so the outcome might not align with the intention behind the support.
Linguistic relativity suggests that the language we speak influences our worldview. It might even affect our personality. This concept becomes especially pertinent when discussing how societal values are communicated in different linguistic contexts. The challenges of translating these values into actionable public policies are often a reflection of this broader linguistic divide.
In previous times, it was easier to maintain a critical view because the amount of information we digested was much less than what we are exposed to nowadays. The current information overload can often lead to a dilution of critical thinking, making it harder for individuals to process and reflect on the information they receive. Our default response, as explained, is to associate with groups.
What is my point? I think that if one maintains a critical worldview and is sure of what our values are, it is easier to answer the question of whether the impact of certain policies aligns with our beliefs. Whenever you feel anger or frustration against another group of people, try to empathize. Empathy is crucial in understanding the complexities of human values and beliefs. It allows us to appreciate the nuances that get lost in translation, not just linguistically, but also in the way we interpret and understand each other’s viewpoints.
Our established way of organizing large groups of people, democracy, is a recognition that other people’s will is equally important to one’s own. And, although it is a complex discussion in itself, democracy functions much better when everyone is true to their values because, in the end, what we find is that what we value tends to, at the core, not be so different.