A new wave of scholarship is overturning the simplistic view of English as a “killer language” steamrolling over the world’s linguistic diversity. Recent findings, as highlighted in Laura Spinney’s latest article for Big Think, reveal that while English remains undeniably dominant, its expansion and alleged impact on other languages are far more complex than previously thought. Instead of a binary narrative of destruction and supremacy, researchers now see English as both converging and diverging — simultaneously fueling the birth of new varieties, while occupying a unique and dynamic role in multilingual societies worldwide. These insights are critical for Thai readers, educators, and policymakers grappling with the place of English in a rapidly globalizing region.
English’s ascendance began in earnest in the 1980s, emerging as the prime beneficiary of globalization and solidifying its status as the first truly global lingua franca (Big Think). Some critics dubbed it a “killer language,” citing concerns that smaller languages were being pushed into extinction. However, prominent linguists such as Salikoko Mufwene of the University of Chicago argue that this label is misleading. “English has expanded mainly as a lingua franca,” he points out, “squeezing out rival lingua francas like Swahili in Africa or Malay in Asia… but it hasn’t dented the indigenous languages spoken in those places day to day.” This means that, outside of Europe where monolingualism has long prevailed, stable bilingualism or even multilingualism remains the norm. The “killer language” narrative, Mufwene suggests, comes from a Eurocentric viewpoint, not reflective of the diversity of language practices elsewhere.
The future of English is more fluid than commonly assumed. Australian linguist Nicholas Evans observes that English is “simultaneously diverging into varieties that may one day be unrecognizable as the same language.” While Latin splintered into the Romance languages as the Roman Empire declined, English may avoid such fate due to the unifying power of mass media. Television, the internet, and social media expose speakers across continents to a standard written form of English, countering the centrifugal forces that typically spur dialectal drift. “English could well settle into a state of diglossia,” Evans explains, “where a gulf exists between shared written standards and many spoken varieties, but these forms bind together as a single tongue.”
This nuanced perspective has important implications for debates on language endangerment. Of the world’s nearly 7,000 spoken languages, close to half are considered endangered. Some studies estimate that some 1,500 may vanish by century’s end (Ethnologue), raising urgent questions about preservation and revival. Spinney points out that language revival efforts, such as those in Wales and Ireland, have produced mixed results. For instance, despite strong grassroots support and decades of language teaching, only around 20 percent of Welsh people reported using Welsh in 2022 — and even Welsh is the healthiest of the Celtic languages. Attempts to revitalize Irish, now spoken by a minority, show strong English influence, to the point that some experts describe it as a new hybrid language.
Despite the grim statistics, some linguists caution against despair. Historically, languages have thrived even with as few as 1,000 speakers. Dr. Ghil’ad Zuckermann, an Israeli-born linguist, argues that language revival should be evaluated not solely by speaker numbers, but by whether young people use the language as a vehicle for vibrant cultural life. Furthermore, every successful revival inevitably results in linguistic change: “Instead of Hebrew being revived,” Zuckermann asserts, “a new, Hebrew-European hybrid was born. He calls it Israeli.” This mirrors global trends, where revived and endangered languages evolve in response to contemporary needs and pressures.
Why are languages abandoned in the first place? Language is inseparable from the social and economic realities facing its speakers. As Spinney notes, “Language is a tool: it lives for as long as it’s useful, for as long as it opens doors for its speakers and equips them to improve their lives.” Consequently, any revival strategy must address not only pedagogical issues but also broader social inequalities and incentives (Big Think). Successful language activism today focuses first on understanding these root causes — why communities might switch to dominant languages like English — before proposing interventions.
The statistics themselves can be slippery. Measuring language death is complicated, as language change is ongoing and often undocumented. The definition of a “new” language is as subjective as the criteria for counting deaths: linguistic shifts on the ground often escape scholarly notice until well after the fact.
For Thailand, where English proficiency is increasingly perceived as a must-have for global competitiveness yet also viewed as a threat to Thai cultural identity, this research resonates in multiple ways. English’s spread in Thailand has not erased indigenous languages, but often sits alongside them. In many regions, especially in the Northeast and North, bilingualism in Thai and local languages (including Isan, Lanna, and even some Khmer dialects) remains robust (Thai Ministry of Education). Educators and language activists now push for trilingual approaches — measuring educational success by fostering proficiency in local languages, Thai, and English — to preserve heritage while opening future opportunities.
Historically, Thai society has prided itself on adaptability. The Royal Institute and other academic bodies have long promoted both standard Thai and regional dialects. During periods of national modernization, such as under King Rama V and again in the late 20th century, English was strategically introduced to advance diplomacy and economic growth, not as an outright replacement for the native tongue but as a parallel tool (Royal Institute of Thailand). This balancing act helps to explain why, for most Thais, English serves to augment rather than overwrite local identities.
Looking ahead, the global trend seems clear: we are less likely to witness the total extinction of native languages and more likely to see new forms of hybridization and coexistence. According to recent studies, young Thais in urban centers use English not only for professional purposes but also to code-switch in social contexts, signaling education and cosmopolitanism while retaining their Thai cultural roots (Bangkok Post). Language learning apps, YouTube, and K-pop fandoms accelerate these trends, with English mingling with Thai in digital and classroom spaces.
For Thai policymakers, this research suggests a need to refocus language education policy. Rather than framing English as a threat, the goal should be to harness its power as a bridge, while doubling down on robust support for local languages and cultural content. Practical steps include curricular innovation that emphasizes cultural relevance, promoting local-language media, and investing in teacher training that supports multilingualism (UNESCO Bangkok). For interested parents, community leaders, and cultural organizations, the actionable takeaway is clear: nurture curiosity and pride in local languages at home, while embracing the flexibility and economic benefits that English can unlock.
In conclusion, English is neither the villain nor the hero in a simplistic global story. Its rise and spread reflect deeper transformations — economic, technological, and sociopolitical — that both threaten and inspire the world’s linguistic diversity. Rather than mourning a one-way march toward uniformity, Thais can celebrate and contribute to a new era of multilingual resilience, marking a hopeful chapter in the evolution of language itself.