Comprehensive Study Guide on Linguistic Landscapes: Official Signage, Power Dynamics, and Virtual Spaces of Communication

Introduction to Linguistic Landscapes

The study of language typically asks what language is, as seen in previous chapters. However, the study of linguistic landscapes focuses on the question of where language is. Language is ubiquitous in the human environment, manifesting when people speak, write, and read. Linguists have recently developed a specific interest in the use of language within the everyday semiotic landscape, particularly in contexts that are often perceived as banal or mundane. This field examines concrete signs and their authors, contrasting them with more abstract signs investigated elsewhere. The study encompasses several dimensions, including multilingual landscapes, the ideologies communicated by signs, the varied meanings of graffiti, and the evolving nature of the virtual or online landscape.

Defining the Linguistic Landscape

In urban environments worldwide, there is a proliferation of linguistic and semiotic material. This includes official signage, such as street names, traffic regulations, and building numbers, as well as unofficial material that observers may or may not consciously process, such as advertising billboards, posters, and handwritten notices. These elements collectively form the linguistic landscape. Scholars in the fields of Linguistic Landscapes ($LL$) and Semiotic Landscapes ($SL$) focus on how language and meaningful objects are used in the construction of space.

The concept of the "construction of space" can be illustrated through a thought experiment: if one were blindfolded and placed in a public space, the removal of the blindfold would allow for rapid orientation through signs. Street signs, road names, and directional markers provide orientation. Cross-cultural differences are evident in sign composition, including typeface, color, and size. Even without understanding the specific language, the semiotic features of an environment help individuals determine if they are in a government office, a bus station, or a different country entirely.

Research in $LL$ studies how linguistic objects mark public space and contribute to its symbolic construction. Ben-Rafael et al. ($2006$) define this as the way linguistic objects mark the public space and the symbolic construction of that space. Researchers analyze the signs themselves, the languages used, the producers of the signs, and the intended audience. A fundamental distinction is made between official and non-official signs. Official signs, typically produced by governments, local councils, or building owners, represent "top down" discourses. Conversely, signs produced by individuals or small groups, identifiable by their message and form, represent "bottom up" discourses.

Top-Down and Bottom-Up Discourses

The distinction between top-down and bottom-up discourses is evidenced by the production and presentation of signs. An official sign, such as a bilingual English and Welsh sign in Wales, is a top-down message because it is posted by the government. In Wales, all official signage must be bilingual. To further distinguish these discourses, one can look at "No Smoking" signage. An official sign (top-down) typically uses a standard typeface, conventional icons, and formal language such as the passive voice (e.g., "have been designated"), which points to the authority of the authoring body. It not only communicates a rule but demonstrates the authority to enforce it.

In contrast, a hand-drawn "No Smoking" sign on a piece of $A4$ paper is a bottom-up discourse. For example, such a sign posted next to an official one outside a university building can be interpreted as a personal plea or an individual voice added to the official signage. This highlights how individuals may attempt to reclaim or influence public space through personal intervention.

Reading Strategies for Visual Material

Kress and van Leeuwen ($1996$) propose reading strategies for interpreting visual material similar to reading written texts. In writing, authors move from the "given" (known information) to the "new." Consequently, the left side of an image or page is often understood as the "given," while the right side represents the "new." Furthermore, content at the top is perceived as the "ideal," while content at the bottom is the "real." This is frequently seen in billboards where the product's aspirational claims are at the top, and contact information is at the bottom. However, these strategies are not universal. Scollon and Scollon ($2003$) caution against overgeneralizing these semiotics across all cultures, as reading practices (such as left-to-right vs. right-to-left) vary significantly.

Geosemiotics and Space as Meaning

Signs do more than just provide information; they shape geographical spaces into social spaces through their symbolic functions. The meaning of a sign is tied intrinsically to its material placement. Scollon and Scollon ($2003$) define geosemiotics as the study of the social meaning of the material placement of signs in the world. "Signs" in this context include any semiotic system, including language and discourse. Language is only one of many systems; typeface, color, and images also communicate meaning.

The placement of a sign is deictic, meaning its significance depends on its physical location. A "Stop" sign in the middle of a field has a completely different meaning than one at a street corner. An official sign in the wrong place might even be considered transgressive. Signs index larger discourses, such as public transport regulations or even illegal activities. They also act as boundary markers, carving space into public and private areas and defining zones where specific social roles (e.g., cyclist vs. busker) are permissible.

Categories of Signs and the Continuum of Authority

Scollon and Scollon ($2003$) provide four distinct categories of signs in the linguistic landscape:

1. Regulatory discourses: Traffic signs or official/legal prohibitions.

2. Infrastructural discourses: Signs for those maintaining infrastructure (water, power) or labeling for the public (street names).

3. Commercial discourses: Advertising and related signage.

4. Transgressive discourses: Signs that violate conventional semiotics or are in the "wrong space," such as graffiti or discarded wrappers.

These categories often overlap. For instance, a hand-drawn regulatory sign might be considered transgressive because it is not top-down. Furthermore, the line between top-down and bottom-up is not always clear and can be viewed as a continuum. Ben-Rafael et al. ($2006$) suggest shop signs are bottom-up because of personal choice in composition, yet within the shop's own context, they are top-down. Leeman and Modan ($2009$) argue the distinction is increasingly untenable due to public-private partnerships in urban revitalization where government policies constrain private signage.

Materiality also provides clues to a sign's status. A metal sign screwed to a wall in a bathroom suggests permanence and authority, even if the text is a request for consideration rather than a strict prohibition. Conversely, official signs sometimes adopt informal styles, such as a wildlife trust sign addressed to dogs ("Woof Woof") to soften the authority of the message.

Multilingualism and the Visible Power of Language

Linguistic Landscape studies often investigate multilingualism to uncover the communicative strategies of people in a space. This is particularly relevant to power dynamics. Official recognition of a language on signs (e.g., Welsh in Wales) is a marker of power and governmental acknowledgment. In areas where language is contested, the choice of languages on signs is often a subject of intense debate.

However, official policies do not represent the entirety of the landscape. The $LL$ serves as a testament to the languages actually being used, which may differ from the "official" languages. Blommaert ($2013$) describes the linguistic landscape of Berchem, Antwerp, as predominantly Turkish and Belgian. However, an ethnography revealed a handwritten Chinese sign in a shop window advertising a flat for rent. This sign, using a mixture of traditional Mandarin and simplified script, was addressed to a specific audience and signaled an emergent, otherwise invisible Chinese network. Such signs claim ownership of space and reveal linguistic diversity not captured by official audits like a census.

An example from Arles, France, shows hotel signs (tourist infrastructure) in French, alongside a shop named "Mondo Macho." While the hotel signs are "informing" and official-looking, the shop sign is "recruiting" or advertising. Handwritten notes on the glass (e.g., "femme" or "Boutique a vendre") address local populations rather than tourists, showing different layers of language use within the same physical space.

Signs as Ideological Campaigns

Signs can be part of broader communicative strategies known as campaigns, which share design, color, and goals. A prominent example is Singapore's National Courtesy Campaign ($CC$), launched in $1979$ by Prime Minister Lee Kuan Yew. This campaign, which lasted over $20$ years, aimed to transform Singaporeans into a "naturally" courteous society. This attempt to change "nature" reveals the ideological force of the campaign.

The $CC$ utilized what Lazar ($2003$) calls "informalised authority." By using community-focused discourse, responsibility for social behavior is shifted to the citizens. To build this community, the campaign used informal language and cartoon figures: "Smiley" (a yellow smiling face) and "Singa" (a humanized lion). Singa is particularly symbolic, as the name Singapore translates to "lion city" from the Malay "Singapura." These figures were placed on buses, trains, and tickets to prod commuters into a friendly state of mind.

The campaign issued clear instructions (e.g., "Signal early," "Let passengers alight first"), which, while potentially face-threatening, established conventions of courtesy. By making these messages ubiquitous, the campaign changed the social landscape. Choosing not to be courteous in such an environment became a more meaningful, inconsiderate choice. This represents a form of control where individuals are not overtly constrained but are not entirely free, as the campaign shifts the social conception of appropriate behavior.

Transgressive Signs: The Function of Graffiti

Graffiti is a primary example of a transgressive sign, defined as an unsanctioned urban text. Carrington ($2009$) notes that graffiti sits in direct competition with sanctioned texts like commercial advertising. It provides a voice for marginalized people who lack conventional power. Graffiti can be categorized into "commercial graffiti," which relates to control in consumer culture, and "non-commercial graffiti," which serves as an alternative system of public communication. The primary difference is legitimacy; commercial graffiti is paid for and thus considered "legitimate."

Graffiti is often hyper-visible, large, and spatially transgressive. It serves as a narrative and a form of "participatory culture," allowing residents to provide evidence of their experiences and views. This is a form of "silly citizenship" that allows hidden communities to see themselves within their environment. It acts as a critique of top-down control of the built environment and can creatively intervene in the everyday space by exploiting sign conventions.

The Digital and Online Linguistic Landscape

The virtual spaces of the World Wide Web, social media, and computer-mediated communication are also linguistic landscapes. The site YouTube exemplifies a "post-television" landscape. Tolson ($2010$) distinguishes YouTube from television through several factors: it is "decentred" rather than centered in a studio; it lacks a "hierarchy of discourse" as the platform does not present specific content as inherently more prestigious; and voices are "individual" rather than institutional. Furthermore, YouTube is not dictated by a schedule, allowing producers and viewers total choice over content and timing.

Twitter has further blurred the line between the online and offline worlds. Due to smartphones, the online landscape is ubiquitous and part of the everyday. Users personalize this landscape by choosing who to follow and which hashtags to use, constructing a specific "point of view." This has led to "ambient journalism," a term used by Hermida ($2012$) to describe the constant flow of news, updates, and social feeds. However, a significant "digital divide" remains, as access to this landscape is not universal and depends on financial and physical resources.

Internet Memes and Semiotic Democracy

Memes are "contagious patterns of cultural information" that shape the mindsets and behaviors of social groups. Knobel and Lankshear ($2007$) define them as written texts, images, or language "moves" that spread rapidly online. Memes require a new kind of literacy. For example, the "Doge" meme follows strict conventions: a picture of a Shiba Inu dog, Comic Sans font in fluorescent colors, and a linguistic pattern of "intensifier + adjective/noun." The intensifiers used include "so," "very," "much," and "many." Critically, the meme violates normal grammatical combinations (e.g., "much happy," "very word").

The "Doge" meme has even moved from virtual space to physical space, appearing as graffiti in libraries. For a meme to be successful, it requires replicability (ease of copying) and fecundity (a high rate of spread). Success and mainstream reporting often depend on humor, intertextuality (references to other texts), and anomalous juxtaposition (mismatching elements). Examples like the "Dog Poop Girl" from South Korea show how memes can be used for social shaming and seeking justice. Memes represent a form of "semiotic democracy," where conventions are generated from the bottom up and shared by a collective through a specific fluency in digital codes.