JodyByrne.com

Localisation – When Language, Culture and Technology Join Forces

First published as: Byrne, Jody (2009) “Localisation – When Language, Culture and Technology Join Forces”. Language at Work, Issue #5

When you switch on your computer and type up a letter, what language do you see? What about when you visit a website or play a computer game? Does your mobile phone speak your language? Chances are that each of these technological marvels of the modern age communicates with you in your own language. For many of us, this is so commonplace and seamless that we hardly give it a moment’s thought but behind the scenes there is a whole industry dedicated to making sure that technology bridges the gap between language and culture without you even noticing.

Once upon a time, if you wanted to use a computer for whatever reason, you had to be able speak English. The alternative was a tedious process of trial-and-error using a dictionary and your powers of deduction. The reason for this is that Personal Computers were originally developed in the sunny, English-speaking climes of Silicon Valley in the USA where engineers and programmers concerned themselves with producing the next technological break-through. Back in the 1980s it never occurred to companies that there could be people in the world who did not speak English, or worse, who, even though they spoke English, actually preferred to speak their own languages. Over time, however, companies realised that in order to break into foreign markets and maximise profits, they would have to provide foreign language versions of their software rather than expect those pesky foreigners to learn English.

And so, once software was developed it was sent back to the developers who were told to “translate” it into whatever languages were required according to the company’s sales and marketing goals. Developers were less than enthusiastic about this, naturally. After all, they had done their job and now they were expected to do even more work which, strictly speaking was not their job. What’s more, because individual products, like languages, had their own peculiarities, customs and conventions, the process of translating the software was often time-consuming, incredibly complex and not always successful. One way of describing this process is to imagine baking a fruit cake and then being told afterwards to remove the raisins from it!

Read the rest of this article on the Language at Work website…

Share

Believing the technology hype…

These days it seems technology is everywhere. Just the other day, the bin in our local foodcourt, having been somehow instilled with a technological soul, thanked me for dumping my half-eaten cheeseburger into it.

Thank you for eating me. Sorry about the cholesterol!

Thank you for eating me. Sorry about the cholesterol!

I’ve always been a big believer in technology and there was a time when I would dump a perfectly good mobile phone because a newer, shinier one with more bells and whistles came out and I would buy gadgets just because they were new and revolutionary. I even taught myself MIDI programming because Roland launched a synthesiser that you could play with a guitar. The epitome of what industry types call an “early adopter” I was always first in line to try out some new piece of software or some such gizmo but lately I’ve found myself suffering from technology fatigue and I’m starting to question exactly how useful all of this technological gimmickry really is.

Although people seem to assume I do, I don’t have an iPhone and have no plans on getting one because I really don’t need or want one (they’re far too trendy for my liking and I’m not that much of a sheep) and can’t be bothered learning how to use something that I’ll probably break and have to replace in 6 months anyway. I don’t use Twitter because I can’t see the point and if I’m honest, my ego doesn’t need that much of a boost and my stalker tendencies haven’t developed to that level yet (although I do use Facebook and Myspace, shame on me). I refuse to get a Sky+ box (Tivo for you Americans) although I did dabble with digital radio before it inexplicably died in a splutter of electronic epilepsy. I’m not sure whether my newly emerging Luddite nature is because I’m getting older (bah!) or because I’m getting cynical but either way I’m increasingly sceptical about gadgets billed as absolutely essential.

The proliferation of technology does seem pretty unstoppable in virtually every area of our lives and translation is no exception. We are constantly told that in order to keep up with the competition and attract those high-value projects we simply have to embrace ever more sophisticated technologies. Of course with a few exceptions, none of this technology comes cheap. But then again, if we are to believe the promises of increased productivity, improved quality and consistency, customer satisfaction, world peace and an end to hunger isn’t it worth it?

In translation, the mantra among those in the know is that nobody can realistically expect to work as a translator without technology. I’m a whole-hearted believer in this. I can’t imagine a translator not using a PC, not translating directly onto the screen by overwriting the source text). But is all this technology going too far? Lots of people I know hate translating with TM tools such as Trados or Deja Vu because it spoils the enjoyment of translating and if I’m honest, I’m not a big fan of translating with them either and there is at least one study that I know of which shows that TM tools can actually damage the quality of texts. There’s also the fact that I now automatically factor in an additional hour or two at the end of a translation project to fix whatever unforeseen and unpredictable calamity will invariably befall my leading tag-based translation memory tool. Terminology management tools, too, may be useful but unless someone sends you a ready-made database you can waste so much time creating one that it’s just not worth the effort. So for all the promises and hype, you have to wonder whether the technology really does help us as translators.

I feel something of a hypocrite because I teach technologies to my students and hammer home the importance of it yet I have my misgivings about the tools.

TranslatorBot 3000™ - Upgrade Now!

TranslatorBot 3000™

The technology companies, however, seem desperate to try and fuel this obsession with technology by churning out update after update and new product after new product even if what they are offering doesn’t seem to really offer anything new, worthwhile or even useful. You get the impression that the people pushing for more technology in translation won’t be happy until they we’ve been turned into translating cyborgs, one and the same with our computers. But dig beneath the surface gloss and you’ll find that what they are offering in many cases is a way of dealing with the increased workload and problems which their products themselves have caused. Just look at some of the latest releases which were supposed to add new features but which have been so buggy that translator forums are filled with frustrated users’ stories and people are being advised to wait until a service pack is released.

Perhaps the most important thing to remember is that software and other types of technology are just tools. They are supposed to help you do something else. They’re a means to an end, not and end in themselves. You should only use something because you need to, because it will help you do your job better or more easily not because you think you should because of some mercurial promise of everlasting revenue by a software company. Buying something simply because it’s new or because the company makes a fuss over some new feature or other (possibly because they want to boost their cash-flow to see them through the recession and which in reality provides very little benefit to the ordinary translator) is a waste of time, money and precious sanity. The long and the short of this technology business is don’t believe the hype, do your research and buy what you need. And if you do need to indulge in frivolous purchases, buy a guitar, a vocoder,  a remote control helicopter or a robot.

Share

Translation keeps you guessing

I’ve been looking through my archive of previous translations today and spent a while reminiscing and reflecting on some of the weird, wonderful, interesting, fun and downright bizarre texts I have translated over the years. This was triggered by a recent text I had which was by a medical devices company who has a nice little sideline in the weapons industry. I’m no ethics expert but I wondered whether there might be a conflict of interest there. It reminded me a bit of a shop I saw in some rural part of Ireland several years ago that was divided into three “departments”: a pub (which also sold groceries – it’s an Irish thing apparently), a car showroom and an undertakers. The basic business model seemed to be “We’ll get you drunk, put you in a car and when you wrap yourself around a lamp post we’ll box and bury you” (I always wondered if they had a loyalty card).

Cutting out the middle man

Cutting out the middle man

Okay I’m rambling now. But this was by no means the strangest text or client I’ve had to deal with over the years. There was the conference paper on teabags which talked about the history and development of teabags and the different designs and their relative pros and cons. Thanks to that text I’m now au fait with the thermodynamics of teabags and can explain how they stick the bags together without using glue. Then there was the lingerie catalogue. The less said about that one the better – let’s just say there’s an awful lot of specialised terminology going on there and my poor mother didn’t know what to think when I asked what a “gusset” was. If you’ve ever seen that episode of Father Ted in the lingerie department you’ll have some idea of my predicament.

A Really Really Complicated Marvel of Modern Engineering

A Really Really Complicated Marvel of Modern Engineering

Just as surreal was the article I was asked to translate on the mating habits of parrots. I try not to think too much about this one because it was just too disturbing – the thought of parrots listening to Barry White as they get jiggy with it makes me feel more than a little bit queasy. I did find out though that parrots, for some reason, are something of an exception when it comes to scientific nomenclatures as they have different Latin names in different countries. I do know that if I ever need a change of career, I can set up as a marriage guidance counsellor for parrots; a Dr Ruth for our feathered friends.

Joking aside, I have translated texts on quite serious issues. Like the text I translated about the Aral Sea when I found out how ill-advised Soviet irrigation plans have transformed what was once the fourth largest inland saline water body into a vast expanse of desert. As a translator I’ve been privy to the details of nasty divorces, felt a tear in my eye as I translated the power of attorney for a woman who had developed Alzheimer’s and was no longer able to care for herself, then I cheered as I translated the extradition papers for two drug smugglers who were caught red-handed by the coastguard with half a ton of heroin when their boat ran out of fuel. There was also the cloak-and-dagger lawsuit where, for legal reasons, the texts couldn’t be translated by anyone in the US, nothing could be sent by email, only via secure off-shore servers. It turns out that the client had paid a company to build a state-of-the-art manufacturing plant but due to unbelievable incompetence had been left with a multi-million dollar cowshed which was dangerous, over budget, late and utterly useless. The impression I got was that the builder was something of a Basil Fawlty with a cement mixer but I’ll say no more in case “they” are reading.

Get a room!

Get a room!

There have been so many cases where I’ve nearly fallen off my chair with either shock or laughter that I couldn’t possibly list even a fraction of them here. All in all, working as a translator has been great fun and incredibly educational. And what’s more I get paid for it. While I might sometimes complain about the pay and conditions and what not, translation has never been boring and it means I’m a bit of a whizz when it comes to pub quizzes. I love the fact that, even if you specialise in a particular area, you never know what is going to land in your inbox. I do wonder though, exactly how weird and wonderful translation jobs can get so feel free to share the weirdest translation job you’ve ever had.

Share

Fool me once, shame on you…

The issue of professional translators providing their services for free has once again reared its ugly, miserable, penny-pinching head again. Some time ago I wrote about a job posting on Proz asking for a specialised text to be translated for free. Now, according to an article in the New York Times, the professional networking website, LinkedIn, has asked it’s translator members whether they would be interested in volunteering their services to localise the LinkedIn website. Yes, you heard right.  A professional website aimed at professional service providers is asking it’s fee paying members to provide services for free.

I’ve never made a secret of the fact that translators are sometimes their own worst enemy when it comes to professional recognition. We translators regularly complain that we do not get the professional recognition we deserve and that the money we make is not commensurate with the amount of effort, training and commitment required to be a translator. This, as I’ve said before, is largely due to translators not standing up for themselves and for charlatans working for peanuts. But companies who are prepared to take advantage of translators and employ “yellow pack“, bargain-basement translators are every bit to blame. So it’s hardly a surprise that I’m not impressed by LinkedIn’s new venture.

Of course translation has its moments but the bunch of bananas at the end of the week makes it all worthwhile

"Sure, translation has its challenges but the plentiful supply of bananas and the chance to play on a tyre swing make it all worthwhile".

But hold on a minute, I’m detecting the slight whiff of hypocrisy here. Why have I never complained about Facebook’s foray into crowd-sourcing? Or Wikipedia for that matter? Like LinkedIn, Facebook asked it’s members to band together and translate their website into various languages for free. LinkedIn were even promising to credit the translators who volunteered so it’s not like the translators weren’t getting something out of it. But the reason I didn’t have a problem with Facebook is because it, like Wikipedia is a kind of hobby or recreational site and much like Wikipedia, they don’t really have a business model with which to make vast sums of money (if you’re interested in how web companies like the mighty Google make their money try reading “The Google Story“).

On top of this, the Facebook translation project was just an excuse to get users involved in the website – it wasn’t an excuse to save a few bucks. In fact the way Facebook went about localising its site ultimately proved more expensive than if they had just gone to professional translators in the first place (they had a review system for translations and even got professional translators to translate the strings “just in case”).

But the LinkedIn case is different from what I can make out. They are supposedly a professional site aimed at promoting professional relationships and respecting its members. They also charge their members a lot of money for their premium services. Would LinkedIn have asked its graphic designer members to design a new logo for free? Would they have asked members who are website designers to redesign the website for free? Would they have asked caterers to come around and stock the LinkedIn canteen with food for free? Unlikely to say the least. Yet somehow they felt comfortable asking the translators to give them a freebie. Maybe they have a point, after all we are just trained monkeys who speak a couple of languages real good.

Share

Those who can’t, teach…

George Bernard Shaw once said something along the lines of “He who can, does. He who cannot, teaches“. As a student I often chuckled at this thought as I sat in translation class wondering whether any of my lecturers had ever worked as translators and whether they really knew what translation was all about and I still chuckled several years later as a full-time professional translator. Now that I’m a lecturer, I’m not chuckling any more.

The view really isn't that good from up here

The view really isn't that good from up here.

The decision to go into academia was not one that I consciously made, it just kind of happened. Let’s just say that when you get a PhD you just tend to drift into university life because that’s just what people do. Why else would you devote three years to pursuing something that is essentially preparation for life as a researcher and lecturer? But having said that, it’s not a bad career choice once you get used to the idiosyncrasies of academia.  On the one hand, academic life is less fraught with the day-to-day financial worries of freelancing full-time and it means you can just take on those jobs that are interesting, not the mundane donkey-work jobs. There’s also the satisfaction and sense of reward from passing on your experiences and helping students realise their potential. But on the other hand, you do get the sense that you are missing out on the cut and thrust of full-time translating, that somehow you’re not really a translator, merely a dabbler or worse still, that having gone from industry into academia, you’re a sell-out.

Having said that, I do think that in order to be a decent lecturer you need to be an active translator (or at least have recent professional experience). If for no other reason, because translating professionally can give you a plentiful supply of texts (assuming of course your clients agree to their texts being used) and it keeps you up to date with what’s happening in industry. Too many lecturers that I know of either are not active translators or have never translated professionally. The latter is something that really annoys me – how can you teach translation properly if you have never earned a living from it? In various institutions, I have seen lecturers whose only experience of translating has been the odd poem or novel written by some obscure medieval nobody. I’m sorry but this type of hobby translation coupled with degree in whatever doesn’t give you the knowledge and expertise you need to train translators for industry. Maybe Shaw had a point after all.

But ranting aside, I can’t do just one job. I get bored and frustrated. I can’t just be a translator no more than I can just be a lecturer. I love the variety of combining the two and I like the fact that I can pass on my experiences to students and for the most part, they appreciate this. Sure I get the occasional weirdo who does a translation degree but who has no intention of ever working as a translator but by and large it’s nice working with students and watching them develop as translators. I also like the fact that by being a translator I am doing what I trained to do – something from which I still derive an enormous amount of pleasure and which exercises parts of my brain that teaching just doesn’t. Translating also gives you a strong work ethic which I don’t think is all that common among some academics for whom the basic unit of working time is the week and not the hour.

So ultimately, as a lecturer who takes the job seriously, I find myself caught between two stools. The professional translators who might think I’ve sold out or that by living in the Ivory Tower I have lost touch with the “real” world, and the academics who have seriously misguided notions of translation competence and who look down on professional translators and anyone who isn’t a “traditional” academic (i.e. someone who has spent their entire working lives in the comfort of academia, researching the obscure, the surreal and often the irrelevant and who has never had to translate 3000+ words a day).

But this raises some interesting questions. Should you be allowed to teach if you have never worked as a professional translator? Should all university appointments be contingent on the prospective lecturer having a minimum level of experience outside academia? Would you trust a mechanic to fix the brakes on your car if he only had theoretical knowledge and had never actually stripped an engine or gotten oil under his finger nails? Would you trust a surgeon who had only read books but never cut open a human body? So why would you trust a lecturer who had never actually done the job they are training you for?

Share