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Foreign languages do not simply acquire American terms, of course, but adapt and rework them in a sort of hybridization variously known as Franglais, Spanglish or Japlish. The Germans, who have traditionally enjoyed concocting exotic combinations like Satisfaktionsfahigkei t (the state of being socially eligible to fight a duel), now add English to German as though creating a polyglot strudel. Powerstimmung, for example, means a great mood, which can make a German ganz high or even ausgeflippt.
The Japanese, though, are the past masters at making such words pay their way. Sutoraiku, for example, is the kind of strike that a pitcher throws across the plate, while sutoraiki is the kind that workers go out on. It was inevitable that the Japanese would import "word processor" and just as inevitable that they would shorten it to wa-pro. Then the younger generation seized it and made it stand for "worst proportions," meaning an unattractive woman.
In a number of countries, traditionalists stoutly resist the American invasion, which they deplore as "cultural imperialism." France's AGULF has spent the past nine years suing organizations that violate France's law against the commercial use of foreign terms. It has had small fines imposed on about 40 defendants, including the Paris Opera and TWA (for issuing English-language boarding cards).
Most linguistic experts strongly oppose such artificial attempts to control language by decree. They argue that languages must keep changing as new problems arise and new information needs to be communicated. Besides, the portion of English words in any major language is not statistically large --generally less than 5%, according to some estimates--and the process of adopting new words follows a sort of international balance of trade. Discotheque came into American usage from France, posh from England, brainwashing from China and so on. "I dislike any form of nationalism," says Italian Novelist Alberto Moravia, "least of all a nationalistic attitude towards language."
To the extent that such a nationalism reflects social prejudices, the criticisms become self-contradictory. Lillian Chao, professor of English emeritus at National Taiwan University, fears that the spread of English is doing subtle damage. "China has always been a civilization of great politeness and courtesy," she says. "But now our young people, through the English they're studying, are learning to be so offhanded. They say 'Hi' to everyone they greet, and everything is 'O.K.' " Well, exactly.