R1. Introduction
In our target article, we argued for an approach to language in which linguistic and gestural components are two distinct yet integral sides of communication. When the linguistic system is spoken, it is tempting to call the sounds that we produce with our mouths “linguistic” and the movements that we produce with our hands “gestural.” But this easy division on the basis of articulators doesn't work for sign language where the hands take on both linguistic and gestural roles. Our tour through the history of sign and gesture research over the last 50 years brought us to the conclusion that we cannot straightforwardly compare sign to speech simply because sign has gestural components embedded within it that are (at least at the moment) difficult to disentangle. For example, particular forms of the hands, face, and body can all be used both linguistically and gesturally in sign, and, within a single handshape, one part of the hand may be morphemic (i.e., linguistic) and another part gestural, as Duncan (Reference Duncan2005) has shown in Taiwanese Sign Language narratives. We suggested that the more appropriate alignment is between sign+gesture and speech+gesture. This research strategy has two implications: (1) We need to take gesture seriously in our studies of both spoken and sign languages, and (2) we need to figure out ways to distinguish gestural components from linguistic components in speech and sign. The division into linguistic and gestural components in both spoken and sign languages not only has theoretical import, but also practical significance as it allows us to identify learners who are on the verge of acquiring a new concept.
The thought-provoking commentaries on our target article have led us to expand the paradigm we proposed in a number of important and innovative ways. These expansions can be divided into three areas: (1) Possible theoretical questions that follow directly from our claims (Barca & Pezzulo; Berent & Dupuis; Coppola & Senghas; Davidson; Emmorey; Kendon; Lakshmanan & Pilot; Occhino & Wilcox; Pfister & Lende; Pouw, van Gog, Zwaan, & Paas [Pouw et al.]; Schlenker; and Strickland, Aristodemo, Kuhn, & Geraci [Strickland et al.]); (2) different kinds of gestures observed, and how they fit into the framework we propose (Cornejo & Musa; Giezen, Costello, & Carreiras [Giezen et al.]; Kästner & Newen; Liebal; and Tversky); and (3) new data and populations to be investigated or old ones revisited (Campbell & Woll; Eigsti & de Marchena; Feldman, Aragon, Chen, & Kroll [Feldman et al.]; Hall; Malaia; Marschik, Zhang, Esposito, Bölte, Einspieler, & Sigafoos [Marschik et al.]; Motamedi, Schouwstra, & Kirby [Motamedi et al.]; Provine; and Rosselló, Mattos, & Hinzen [Rosselló et al.]).
R2. Theoretical questions that expand our claims
Our target article argued that language and gesture function differently but work together as an integrated system. To make our point, we used examples that cleanly highlight the opposition between language and gesture. But several of the commentaries questioned whether gesture can always be distinguished from sign. In this section, we reiterate the features that we take to be important in distinguishing gesture from sign, acknowledging that they are heuristics for isolating the two behaviors rather than strict criteria, as Berent & Dupuis point out. We then consider theoretical issues raised in the commentaries that lead us to expand our claims.
R2.1. Distinguishing gesture from sign
The first feature that most of the commentaries focused on, and that we continue to think is essential in identifying a gesture, is gradience (as opposed to discreteness). But gradience is not an easy heuristic to implement simply because, as Berent & Dupuis note, although analog nonlinguistic computations (i.e., gestures) give rise to gradience, gradience can also result from the realization of discrete grammatical categories (see also Occhino & Wilcox). So gradience per se is not a surefire marker of a gesture. Although gradience is not a sufficient marker of gesture, we suggest that it is a necessary marker. Gestures are analog and not discrete.
Second, gestures are imagistic: The form of a gesture is transparently related to its meaning. But here again the heuristic is not straightforwardly applied, particularly in sign languages where many (grammatical) forms are transparently related to their meanings. Iconicity is found in both signed and spoken grammatical categories and thus cannot, on its own, mark a form as gesture. We suggest that, here again, being imagistic is necessary but not sufficient to signal that a form is gestural.
A third feature, one that we did not stress in our target article, is that gesture typically falls outside of awareness for both producers and receivers. Gestures (or at least the kinds of gestures that we want to focus on; see sect. 3) are produced along with linguistic communicative acts and thus take on the intentionality of those acts. But they are not themselves the focus of attention for either the producer or the receiver, which may be what gives gesture its cognitive traction. We suggest that gesture accesses implicit, nondeclarative knowledge in learning that can ultimately be integrated with declarative knowledge.
Fourth, following from the third feature, gesture (again, the kind we want to focus on; see sect. 3) is parasitic on the language it accompanies. It is meaningful, but the meaning is framed by the speech or sign with which it occurs. Language can stand on its own without gesture (for the most part, although not always, which is why these features are heuristics rather than defining properties), but gesture cannot stand alone without language. As an important corollary, when spoken language is removed and the manual modality is left to take on the full burden of communication (as in silent gesture or homesign), we do not consider the resulting system to be gesture. As we note in the target article, silent gesture is not gesture in the way we use the term here; it is not co-language gesture and, at least in terms of discreteness, it is closer to language than it is to gesture (see Goldin-Meadow et al. Reference Goldin-Meadow, McNeill and Singleton1996; Singleton et al. Reference Singleton, Goldin-Meadow, McNeill, Emmorey and Reilly1995).
Finally, although gestures do combine with one another (as Tversky notes), the combinations are characterized by a flat structure rather than a hierarchical structure. The combinatorial system involving different levels of description (i.e., phonological, morphological, syntactic, semantic, pragmatic) that characterize language is not needed to characterize co-speech or co-sign gesture.
R2.2. What variability signals in gesture and sign
Two commentaries raise the issue of variation as it pertains to distinguishing gesture from sign (Berent & Dupuis, Emmorey). There are two types of variability that need to be considered, and both types are found within an individual (i.e., the individual varies within herself) and across individuals (i.e., individuals within a group vary). In the first type, there is little consistency in the target form that is used for a particular meaning. Duncan (Reference Duncan2005) points to this type of variability in Taiwanese Sign Language. The signers she studied all used the same handshape to refer to a cat, but the ways in which the handshape was modified to indicate that the cat was crawling up a tight drainpipe varied across signers, and in just the same ways that hearing speakers vary their manual gestures when describing the same event. Sandler (Reference Sandler2009) uses the same type of variability across signers to distinguish gestural from linguistic facial expressions in Israeli Sign Language (ISL). Different signers produced different iconic mouth gestures to describe the cat climbing up the inside of the narrow drainpipe. One signer indicated the bulge of the cat seen from outside with puffed cheeks; another indicated the cat's tight fit with narrowed eyes and a pursed mouth gesture. Importantly, the facial expressions used in grammatical constructions in ISL (e.g., wh-questions and conditionals) do not display this type of variation.
It is worth pointing out that this type of variability is, once again, not a surefire marker of gesture. Variability has been found to characterize manual movements that are not used along with a codified linguistic system (and thus are not co-language gesture), but are instead used in place of such a system. For example, Goldin-Meadow et al. (2015) examined variability in the handshapes used to refer to a particular object in adult homesigners in Nicaragua whose hearing losses prevented them from acquiring Spanish and who had not been exposed to Nicaraguan Sign Language (NSL). The homesigners displayed more variability in the handshapes they used for an object than did NSL signers, even signers who were members of the earliest cohort of the newly emerging language. This result is not surprising given that each homesigner was inventing his or her own homesign system and was not part of a linguistic community. More surprising is the fact that the homesigners also displayed more variability within themselves; that is, an individual homesigner was less likely than was an individual NSL signer to use the same handshape every time she referred to an object. By not repeatedly tapping into a single form (an invariant form-meaning mapping suggestive of langue) homesign lacks one central feature of a linguistic system. Importantly, however, homesign contains the essential feature of discreteness, as well as many other linguistic properties (e.g., morphological marking on the verb, Goldin-Meadow 2003a; Goldin-Meadow et al. Reference Goldin-Meadow, Namboodiripad, Mylander, Özyürek and Sancar2015b), and thus is not gestural in the way we use the term.
Having chosen a target form, there may be variability, both within and across speakers, in how that form is produced, and this is the second type of variability that may help us distinguish gesture from sign. This type of variability can be based on many factors (speaker, gender, age, speech register, etc.). For example, in the production of English /r/, the properties of being “bunched” or “retroflexed” vary both by speaker and by the surrounding segmental context (Archangeli et al. Reference Archangeli, Baker, Mielke, Ridouane and Clements2011). This type of variability is also found in fingerspelled letters of the ASL manual alphabet. The letters N, R, U, and V all have selected index and middle fingers, and closed (i.e., flexed) unselected ring and pinky fingers; the degree of flexion of the ring and pinky fingers varies by signer and by the surrounding segmental context (Keane Reference Keane2014). In terms of distinguishing between gesture and language, one interesting question is whether there is more of this type of (phonetic) variation in the handshapes produced in gesture than in the handshapes produced in sign language. To address this question, we would, of course, need to control for the number of gestures in the sequence, which can be difficult because co-speech gestures often come only one to a clause (McNeill Reference McNeill1992).
R2.3. How to treat properties that gesture and sign have in common
In our target article, we highlighted differences between language and gesture. However, we recognize that there are also commonalities between the two. Barca & Pezzulo point to an embodied framework for language that unites gesture and sign. We did not focus on embodiment in our target article simply because it does not highlight the difference between gesture and sign, as it applies to both. The fact that gesture (like sign) is an act of the body may be critical in determining some of its effects. But it is important to recognize that the impact that gesture has on thinking does not stem entirely from its being an act of the body. For example, Novack et al. (Reference Novack, Congdon, Hemani-Lopez and Goldin-Meadow2014) explored the impact of instruction in which learners acted on a math problem during a lesson and compared it to instruction in which learners gestured about the problem. They found that children who acted on the problems learned how to solve the problem just as well as children who gestured about the problem. But gesturing was much more effective than acting when it came time to generalize what they had learned to new problem types. Gesture and action both involve the body; the different impact they have on learning cannot be explained by embodiment. Similarly, gesture and sign both involve the body. They may, or may not, have the same effects on cognition, an empirical question that takes us beyond the fact that the body is representing information and forces us to consider the format by which that information is represented.
What is more pressing in terms of commonalities, however, is that we need to ask whether a form that elicits the same response in signers and speakers is necessarily a gesture. This question arises with respect to the study of telicity mentioned in Strickland et al. Strickland et al. (Reference Strickland, Geraci, Chemla, Schlenker, Kelepir and Pfau2015) conducted a perception study on American English speakers without sign language experience, using signs from Italian Sign Language (LIS). They found that speakers reliably paired LIS signs for events with and without an endpoint with videos of events that did and did not have endpoints (telic vs. atelic events); the telic/atelic distinction is found in many sign languages (Wilbur Reference Wilbur and Brentari2010).
On the basis of these findings, we might be tempted to argue that these forms are gestural not only for non-signers, but also for signers. But the fact that a form is transparently related to its meaning does not make it gestural. Iconicity runs throughout linguistic systems, particularly sign systems, but that iconicity is constrained. For example, the temporal affixes for telic (punctate movement, with an endpoint) and atelic (continuous movement, with no endpoint) cannot be applied to all verbs, and the particular set of signs to which the affixes apply varies from sign language to sign language. Knowledge of the lexical semantics of the verbs and their syntactic frames is not explored in Strickland et al.’s (2015) fixed, binary-choice task. As a result, the findings show only that both groups use iconicity to interpret the meaning of a form, not whether the form has other grammatical or lexical constraints. We suggest that these restrictions will be present in signers but not non-signers. Strickland et al.’s lovely results make it clear that signs for telicity have iconic roots, but the findings should not be used to argue that this aspect of sign is gestural.
To push the point even further, imagine two handshapes – a straight index finger versus a straight index+ middle finger – presented with the picture of a pen. Hypothetically, if non-signers and signers both preferentially associate the single index finger handshape with the pen, we would not want to conclude that non-signers have a phonological contrast for the number of fingers, nor would we want to conclude that signers lack a phonological system for handshape. Participants would simply be using iconicity to make the best of a fixed-choice scenario, with no information provided about the way the form fits into a phonological system. Sign languages work with iconicity most of the time, not against it, and so it is not surprising that there are some situations where signers and non-signers behave in precisely the same way.
R2.4. When gesture and sign differ
There are many ways in which gesture and sign are similar as semiotic systems, a point made in the target article and emphasized by Kendon. But we argue that the differences are too fundamental to ignore. Both contribute different kinds of information that are largely complementary (when gesture adds or reinforces information found in sign or speech), but sometimes gesture conveys information that is different from the information conveyed in sign or speech (a so-called mismatch), and, when it does, it offers a window onto cognition. Pouw et al. suggest that we can't have it both ways: that gesture can't mismatch speech and, at the same time, be part of an integrated system. But mismatches in morphology and syntax (Sadock Reference Sadock1991) and in phonology and morphology (see Fig. 3 in the target article for mismatches in number of syllables, a phonological unit, and number of morphemes, a morphological unit) happen relatively frequently, yet all of these components function as a unified system. Along the same lines, the allosemantic enrichment examples that Schlenker describes fit the definition of a mismatch. In allosemantic enrichment, gesture provides information that is not conveyed within the linguistic unit that it accompanies, the classic definition of gesture-speech mismatch: for example, producing a hit gesture while talking (or signing) about punishment without explicitly mentioning how the punishment was administered. In autosemantic enrichment, by contrast, gesture provides information that is expressed within the linguistic unit: for example, producing the hit gesture while talking (or signing) about hitting. As Schlenker makes clear, these examples are not anomalies but rather work within the constraints of the semantic system and can be helpful in revealing the properties of that system.
There are two points that we need to stress about gesture-speech mismatches. First, the information conveyed in gesture is different from, but not contradictory to, the information conveyed in speech, as Pouw et al. suggest. In fact, in all instances of true mismatches, the information conveyed in the two modalities has the potential to be integrated; it just hasn't been integrated by the speaker or signer. Importantly, the brain treats speech and gesture as if they belong together when the two convey different but potentially integrable information, but not when the two modalities convey contradictory information. For example, in a study of the brain's electrophysiological response (ERPs, event-related potentials) to different types of stimuli, Kelly et al. (Reference Kelly, Kravitz and Hopkins2004) found that gestures conveying information that is truly incongruent with the information conveyed in speech (gesturing short while saying “tall”) produce a large negativity at 400 ms (the N400 is known to be sensitive to incongruent semantic information; Kutas & Hillyard Reference Kutas and Hillyard1984).
Importantly, gestures conveying information that is different from, but integrable with, information conveyed in speech (gesturing thin while saying “tall” to describe a tall, thin container, a true gesture-speech mismatch) are processed no differently at this stage from gestures that convey the same information as speech (gesturing tall while saying “tall”; Kelly et al. Reference Kelly, Kravitz and Hopkins2004). Neither one produces a large negativity at 400 ms; that is, neither one is recognized as a semantic anomaly. It is important to note, however, that at early stages of sensory/phonological processing (P1-N1 and P2), speech accompanied by gestures conveying different but potentially integrable information (e.g., gesturing thin while saying “tall”) is processed differently from speech accompanied by gestures conveying overlapping information (gesturing tall while saying “tall”). Thus, potentially integrable differences between gesture and speech are noted at early stages of processing but not at later, higher-level stages.
The second point about mismatches is that, although detecting gesture-speech mismatch in an experimental situation requires elaborate controls, as Koschmann points out, mismatches are noticed and, in fact, acted on by ordinary communication partners. For example, Goldin-Meadow and Singer (Reference Goldin-Meadow and Singer2003) videotaped teachers using whatever techniques they wanted to instruct children in mathematical equivalence. The one-on-one tutorials were videotaped and the children later classified according to whether or not each child produced gesture-speech mismatches; the teacher's instruction to each child was then analyzed. The teachers were found to instruct children who produced mismatches differently from children who did not (they taught mismatchers more different types of problem-solving strategies in speech and in gesture). Teachers seem to know when learners produce gesture-speech mismatches (albeit not consciously; see Alibali et al. Reference Alibali, Flevares and Goldin-Meadow1997), and they alter their instruction accordingly. Along the same lines, mothers interacting with their toddlers at home, responded to the child's gesture+speech utterance with longer utterances of their own when gesture and speech conveyed different information (and thus mismatched: e.g., “mommy”+point at hat, to indicate that the hat belonged to mom) than when they conveyed overlapping information (e.g., “hat”+point at hat; Goldin-Meadow et al. Reference Goldin-Meadow, Goodrich, Sauer and Iverson2007a). The procedures developed to ensure methodological rigor in identifying gesture-speech mismatch in the lab do not render the concept useless in the real world, as both teachers and parents seem to know (and act on) a mismatch when they see one.
But Pouw et al. are not questioning whether mismatch can be identified; they are asking about the mechanism by which gesture introduces new ideas into a learner's repertoire. Cook et al. (Reference Cook, Duff and Goldin-Meadowunder review) have hypothesized that gesture's power to change thought stems from its ability to introduce nondeclarative knowledge into a learner's repertoire, knowledge that is often different from, but produced at the same time as, declarative knowledge expressed in speech. Co-speech gesture and, we would argue, co-sign gesture resemble nondeclarative knowledge in that both are implicit and (as Pouw et al. suggest) based in action. Co-language gesture is thus ideal for integrating declarative and nondeclarative knowledge not only because it is itself a vehicle for conveying nondeclarative knowledge, but also because it is seamlessly integrated with speech or sign, the gold-standard vehicle for conveying declarative knowledge.
R2.5. Multiple levels of representation in sign, but not gesture
The idea that linguistic forms are subjected to multiple levels of representation during processing has been addressed directly for spoken (Levelt Reference Levelt1989) and signed (Pfau et al. Reference Pfau, Steinbach and Woll2012) languages. If a form is linguistic, it will tap into multiple levels of representation. Coppola & Senghas suggest that, in addition to categorizing a form as gradient or discrete (categorical in their terms), it should be identified by whether or not it combines with other forms (which they refer to as “systematic” vs. “non-combining”). Being systematic may capture some (but not all) aspects of the fact that some forms are part of a linguistic system; however, we are not convinced that the four cells fully capture distinctions between gesture and sign. Combination per se isn't the issue; the combinations need to reflect a system that engages phonological, morphological, syntactic, semantic, and pragmatic levels. Hearing speakers frequently string pointing gestures together, and the particular combinations of gestures they produce are meaningful (e.g., strings of pointing gestures that convey different problem-solving strategies for solving mathematical equivalence problems, Alibali & Goldin-Meadow Reference Alibali and Goldin-Meadow1993). But these gestures are not part of a hierarchical system of multiple levels.
Supalla (Reference Supalla1982), Benedicto and Brentari (Reference Benedicto and Brentari2004), Brentari et al. (2012), and Brentari et al. (in press) illustrate the notion of multiple levels at work in sign language phonology, morphology, and syntax for two types of handshapes in classifier constructions. These constructions are polymorphemic, iconic, motion, and location predicates that may lie at the boundary between language and gesture. The two types are (1) handling classifiers, expressed via handling handshapes, which have “hand-as-hand” iconicity because they represent how hands handle objects; and (2) entity/semantic (object) classifiers, expressed via object handshapes, which have “hand-as object” iconicity because they represent properties of the object on the hand.
These constructions are, first of all, motor schemas, the first level of representation. The second level at which the constructions can be analyzed is conceptual. The iconic relation between form and meaning in the two types of handshape forms is clear. However, there is a difference in how these forms are used by signers and non-signers. Non-signers, when asked to gesture without speech (i.e., to produce silent gesture), have a strong bias toward one of the two types of iconicity: hand-as-hand iconicity. Padden et al. (Reference Padden, Meir, Hwang, Lepic, Seegers and Sampson2013) have shown this effect in a naming task, where they find that silent gesturers display a bias toward using handling handshapes (as opposed to object handshapes) to represent instrument-like objects. Non-signers understand the idea that the hand can represent the hand, but when the hand is called upon to represent something else (in this case, an object), they are more likely than signers to use a neutral handshape not displaying any properties of the object, or to trace the shape of the object with an index finger. Signers, in contrast, will represent properties of the object in the handshape itself.
The third level is morphological. Both object and handling forms combine with a wide range of movements in classifier predicates to achieve agentive (handling handshapes) and non-agentive (object handshapes) meanings, so the handshapes are meaningful and productive. Indeed, even homesigners, who are inventing their gestures without benefit of a linguistic model, use handling and object handshapes systematically for agentive and non-agentive meanings (e.g., Rissman & Goldin-Meadow, Reference Rissman and Goldin-Meadowin press); importantly, the same structures are typically not found in silent gesture (Brentari et al. Reference Brentari, Di Renzo, Keane and Volterra2015a), nor in the co-speech gestures that the homesigners’ hearing parents use with them (Goldin-Meadow et al. Reference Goldin-Meadow, Mylander and Butcher1995; Reference Goldin-Meadow, Goodrich, Sauer and Iverson2007a).
The fourth level is phonological. There are differences between signers and silent gesturers with respect to the internal structure of handshape (Brentari et al. Reference Brentari, Coppola, Cho and Senghas2016). Signers balance the complexity of their handshapes between joint complexity and finger complexity, showing a double dissociation between handling handshapes (high joint complexity–low selected finger complexity) and object handshapes (low joint complexity–high finger complexity). Silent gesturers also use more joint complexity in their handling handshapes (almost veridically representing how the hand holds the object) than in their object handshapes. But, unlike signers, they show the same pattern with respect to finger complexity: more finger complexity in handling handshapes than in object handshapes (Brentari et al. 2012). Building this kind of division of labor in a system is the work of a phonological level of representation; signers have it and non-signers do not.
The final level of representation is syntactic. Diagnostic tests have been applied to these forms in several sign languages (ASL, Hong Kong Sign Language, LIS, British Sign Language) to show that handling handshapes are sensitive to both the grammatical subject and object arguments in a sentence, whereas object handshapes are sensitive only to the grammatical object argument. To date, grammaticality judgments of this type have not been obtained from non-signers (nor from homesigners).
The fact that an iconic form is part of a system for signers but not for non-signers suggests that iconic forms may be processed differently in signers and in non-signers. Davidson notes that when bimodal bilinguals (individuals equally fluent in a signed and spoken language) are speaking English, they often produce classifier constructions comparable to those found in sign language alongside speech; in this context, the classifier constructions are serving the function of co-speech gesture. In other words, their status changes from sign to gesture when spoken language shoulders the linguistic burden of communication.
The converse – that is, gesture (albeit in this case, silent gesture) is treated as sign – has been shown in recent work by Newman et al. (Reference Newman, Supalla, Fernandez, Newport and Bavelier2015), who collected manual event descriptions of objects moving in space from signers and from non-signers. The signers produced classifier constructions, which (as noted earlier) are transparently related to their meanings and thus have the potential to be gestural rather than linguistic. The non-signers’ descriptions were produced without speech and thus were silent gestures transparently related to their meanings. These productions were then used as stimuli in a functional magnetic resonance imaging (fMRI) study and shown to signers and non-signers. Once low-level stimulus features were taken into account, signers were found to process the classifier signs within the left-lateralized frontal-temporal network used for spoken languages. But they also processed the silent gestures within the same network, demonstrating an influence of lifelong experience with sign on the perception of silent gesture. In contrast, non-signers processed both the classifier signs and the silent gestures within regions involved in human action perception, not within linguistic areas. In other words, both types of forms were processed linguistically in signers, and non-linguistically in non-signers. This work highlights the fact that the iconicity of a form is not sufficient to make the form gestural. When silent gestures (which are iconic) are processed by signers, they activate language areas; not so when they are processed by non-signers. The interesting question from the point of the framework we have proposed here is – Will signers process co-speech gesture within language areas? We suspect that they will not. Although silent gesture has enough of the discreteness found in sign language to activate language areas in individuals who have had lifelong experience with sign, co-speech gesture does not. We therefore hypothesize that co-speech gesture will activate regions involved in human action perception not only in non-signers, but also in signers.
R3. Gesture types and their relevance to our model
We began our target article by situating what we call gesture within Ekman and Friesen's scheme (Reference Ekman and Friesen1969) for classifying non-verbal behavior (interpret “verbal” in this case as “linguistic”): (a) affect displays, whose primary site is the face, convey the speaker's emotions, or at least those emotions that the speaker does not wish to mask; (b) regulators, which typically involve head movements or slight changes in body position, maintain the give-and-take between speaker and listener and help pace the exchange; (c) adaptors are fragments or reductions of previously learned adaptive hand movements that are maintained by habit; (d) emblems are hand movements that have conventional forms and meanings; and (e) illustrators are hand movements that are part of an intentional speech act, although speakers are typically unaware of these movements. We focused initially on illustrators, called gesticulation by Kendon (Reference Kendon and Key1980b) and gesture by McNeill (Reference McNeill1992), for two reasons: (1) these behaviors have been extensively studied with regard to their relation to spoken language, and (2) the behaviors have been argued to be an integral part of language (e.g., McNeill Reference McNeill1992). But over the course of our tour through research on gesture, sign, and speech, we enlarged our window to include facial movements in sign and prosody in speech, both of which have the potential to be linguistic and gestural.
Several commentaries address what they perceived in our target article as an overly narrow definition of gesture: that we might have been bending categories and, in the process, distorting them for our purposes. Liebal asks why we limit ourselves to manual gestures, especially when, from her perspective as a psychologist working with nonhuman primates, gesture data run the whole gamut from affect displays to illustrators. She points out that there is currently no shared definition of gesture that serves communities working on gesture data in human and nonhuman primates. This point is well taken, and we could learn much from comparative work on human and nonhuman primates’ communicative use of gesture, if there were a commonly accepted terminology. Tversky calls us to task on gestures using points and lines. She describes these manual gestures not only as gestures but also as abstractions (a point with which we agree), and suggests that they are not necessarily analog, or at least not completely analog; for example, line-like gestures fall into approximate categories parallel to the ways language coarsely categorizes quantitative concepts like some, few, many. Whether co-speech (and co-sign) gestures are better described as approximate categories or as continuous representations is an empirical question. But it is clear that gesture often adds precision to language, as Kästner & Newen suggest when they argue that gestures fit into language as a type of modifier: for example, using a big gesture along with the word big to show how big (an autosemantic enrichment in Schlenker’s terms). We agree with Tversky that points and lines can be abstractions, but we stress that they also vary in a gradient manner. They vary from one utterance to another, one context to another, and in ways that linguistic material does not. The meanings of words such as this, that, here, and there can be made more precise by gesture, but the precision of the gesture is analogic. The points or lines can be closer or farther apart from one another in a gradient fashion; they can differ only along one planar dimension or all three; or, as Emmorey notes, they can be omitted entirely.
A few commentators thought we made category errors, ascribing some phenomena to the realm of gesture that should not be. For example, Giezen et al. and Rosselló et al. suggest that we were too quick to say that location might be gestural in sign language simply because location is clearly categorical in lexical signs. To be clear, we were suggesting that location might be both gestural and categorical. When we described location as a potentially gestural component of signs, we were limiting the discussion to agreeing verbs in sign language. We agree that location, and movement as well, are both linguistic in frozen lexical items; these parameters have minimal pairs and fit into a phonological system. We did not provide in the target article text the often-cited minimal pair for location in ASL in which APPLE (Fig. 1, center, in the target article, which is produced at the cheek) contrasts with ONION (in which the same handshape is produced at eye level).
Examples of this sort make it clear that location is a phonological parameter in sign and, in this sense, linguistic. Verb agreement makes use of a different kind of location: “neutral” space in front of the signer, which is where classifiers are produced. Perhaps the best way to think about location in sign is in terms of a continuum, with categorical uses of location on one end (e.g., location as a phonological parameter on which lexical distinctions in frozen forms are based) and more imagistic uses of location on the other end (e.g., location in classifiers, which has the potential to be analog, although see Supalla Reference Supalla1982, for evidence that it too may be categorical and morphemic). In between, there are many structures with both types of properties and without a clear boundary between them (e.g., referential locations in verb agreement). It is an open question as to whether this boundary is necessarily fuzzy, or whether additional research and new techniques can add precision to the line. As an example, Giezen et al. point out that categorical perception is only one way to establish a property as linguistic, and they cite studies showing that the density of location (i.e., neighborhood density) can affect lexical decision tasks and, in this sense, is functioning linguistically. Categorical perception and neighborhood density are independent pieces of evidence contributing to the status of a property as linguistic: One interesting question is what we should conclude about linguistic status if the two pieces of evidence end up disagreeing.
Prosody is another gray zone between gesture and language. Prosody not only signals constituent breaks, but also it can carry meaning in a gradient way, as intonational tunes or contours. We appreciated Tversky’s reference to the hypothetical “50 Shades of No.” Beckman and colleagues (Beckman & Ayers Reference Beckman and Ayers1997 Beckman & Hirschberg Reference Beckman and Hirschberg1994; Silverman et al. Reference Silverman, Beckman, Pitrelli, Ostendorf, Wightman, Price, Pierrehumbert and Hirschberg1992) have, with the development of the tones and break indices (ToBI) system, been able to extract categorical meaning from prosody and intonation, particularly with regard to tone. But a great deal of prosodic structure remains in the realm of gesture, as pointed out by several commentators, including Tversky, Strickland et al., and Cornejo & Musa. This point holds for both spoken language prosody in the voice and sign language prosody on the hands, face, and body.
With regard to prosody's role in marking constituent breaks, two commentaries suggest that we expand the data we consider to include laughter (Provine) and emoticons (Feldman). Both of these communicative objects can be inserted into discourse at constituent boundaries but not elsewhere. The point is that these forms of expression, which fit within the gestural realm (although on the periphery), provide further evidence that gesture and language form an integrated system. Laughter and emoticons behave like speech interjections and expressives (Potts Reference Potts2007), which also have well-formed constraints on where they can be inserted.
With regard to prosody's role in establishing sentence meaning, scalarity presents a set of cases that are particularly gray because they are gestural and linguistic at the same time. The prosodic intensity of words like yeah, okay, right, and really can co-vary with the speaker's degree of belief (Kennedy & McNally Reference Kennedy and McNally2005; Lai Reference Lai, Uther, Moore and Cox2009), sometimes with a positive bias (i.e., the more intense the really, the more certain the speaker is, e.g., John really likes apples!) and sometimes with a negative bias when the lexical item is used as a cue question (e.g., John likes apples. Really?). There is thus an alignment between gradability of prosodic form and gradability of speaker belief (just as there is an alignment between gradability of prosodic form and speaker perception of how long an event is taking in the “It took s-o-o-o l-o-o-o-ng” example from Okrent Reference Okrent, Meier, Quinto-Pozos and Cormier2002, cited in our target article).
Prosody can also take over a role that is marked linguistically. For example, words or signs can mark a sentence as imperative: in ASL, point-2sg = must read that paper!; in English, You must read that paper! But imperative meanings can also be differentiated from neutral sentences by prosody alone: Read that paper! (command conveyed by visual prosody on the face in ASL and intonational contour in English), compared to [I want to..] Read that paper (neutral in ASL and in English; Brentari et al. Reference Brentari, Falk, Lee, Chatzikonstantinou and Giannakidou2015b). Imperatives can be expressed prosodically by atypical populations and young children, and potentially also by higher order nonhuman primates. As a result, this type of form could serve as an excellent arena for the comparative analyses that Liebal advocates, assuming, of course, that we can establish consistent definitions and frames of reference across the populations.
These gray areas underscore the point made in our target article and by many commentaries: Forms in spoken languages and in signed languages are not necessarily gestural or linguistic; some forms can be gestural and linguistic.
R4. New types of data, methods, and populations
In speech+gesture, it is relatively easy to detect the divide between language and gesture. However, in sign languages, we need to find theoretically motivated ways of distinguishing linguistic from gestural elements. In our target article, we described easy cases where the entire form is either a gesture or a sign; for example, a signer enacted the cat's climb up the outside of the drainpipe (looking just like a hearing gesturer) and interspersed this gesture with the sign in Taiwanese Sign Language for climb-up (Duncan Reference Duncan2005). We also described handshape forms that were clearly linguistic but were modified in ways that were gestural, illustrating how a handshape could be linguistic and gestural at the same time. It has proven more difficult to find clear evidence for the linguistic nature of location and movement in signs (but see Rosselló et al. for neighborhood density effects that are suggestive). We suggested that the correct instrument for analyzing movement or location has not yet been found, and that motion capture might be one of the many relatively new technologies that could provide insight; for example, it may be easier to impose a categorical analysis on a signer's motions and locations than on a gesturer's motions and locations.
Malaia also suggests eyetracking and neuroimaging, which focus on perception rather than production, as possible technologies; both are excellent suggestions. For our purposes, any new technology is useful insofar as it provides a way to distinguish linguistic from gestural elements. In fact, Emmorey and Coppola & Senghas articulated our own general position when they suggested that minuscule differences in form, no matter how nuanced the detail provided, will be unlikely to provide clear answers about what is gesture and what is language. Emmorey suggests that looking at form differences in properties of elements that vary in sign languages, as well as their optionality/obligatoriness, will be more informative. For example, when locations in horizontal or vertical space are used as reference tracking points in sign language agreement, how often are they used and how often are they omitted? And does this pattern differ for gestures (both co-language and silent gesture)? We agree that these criteria are essential no matter what type of instrument is measuring the output.
Campbell & Woll suggest that neuroimaging can be used to distinguish brain activation in signers watching the manual gesture system “tic-tac” used by bookies in the United Kingdom, compared to signers watching signed utterances. The superior temporal and inferior frontal sites implicating the perisylvian regions associated with language processing were activated only for signed utterances. They also highlight the importance of data from individuals with brain damage. They suggest that because aphasics with right hemisphere damage, who had no difficulty processing manual (linguistic) markers, had difficulty comprehending sentences that contained only a non-manual headshake marker of negation, the headshake might be more prosodic than linguistic in nature (but see earlier comments noting that prosody is in the realm of both gesture and language). Unfortunately, it will be a challenge to use imaging techniques to distinguish gesture from sign for forms that can be both linguistic and gestural.
Except for very young children, we know relatively little about the time course of gestural acquisition, either in typical or atypical development. As we said in the target article, we know that language+gesture combinations are a precursor to the acquisition of two-word combinations in clauses (i.e., subject verb clauses; Capirci et al. Reference Capirci, Iverson, Pizzuto and Volterra1996; Goldin-Meadow & Butcher Reference Goldin-Meadow, Butcher and Kita2003) and in noun phrases (Cartmill et al. Reference Cartmill, Hunsicker and Goldin-Meadow2014), and we know that the use of iconicity has its own time course of acquisition (Namy et al. Reference Namy, Campbell and Tomasello2004). However, we do not have a foundation for the acquisition of gesture that is as extensive as what we know about the acquisition of spoken or signed language. Marschik et al. and Eigsti & de Marchena note that there are evaluative measures for atypical populations that take gesture into account, but there is much more that can be done along these lines to compare the acquisition of gesture in typically and atypically developing children. Lakshmanan & Pilot offer the theater and sequential bilingualism as other possible populations in which to explore the relation between language and gesture.
Homesign systems and emerging sign languages are also important populations that we hint at, and that Motamedi et al. and Hall point to explicitly in their commentaries. In certain ways, our own research on these populations has led us to the conclusion that we drew in our target article. We have both been deeply engaged in research on homesign and emerging sign languages, and we find is that it is not a smooth continuum from gesture to, in this case, sign language. The biggest break is between co-speech gesture, which is continuous and imagistic in form, and homesign (or silent gesture), which is discrete (see Goldin-Meadow et al. Reference Goldin-Meadow, McNeill and Singleton1996).
But there are also a number of factors that may be needed to catalyze a homesign system to move toward becoming a full-fledged sign language (Brentari & Coppola 2013; Goldin-Meadow Reference Goldin-Meadow2010): (1) being the primary means of communication, (2) having a linguistic community, and (3) having a language model to transmit to the next generation. First, the system may need to be used as the primary means of communication and thus bear the full burden of communication in order to take on linguistic structure (Goldin-Meadow et al. Reference Goldin-Meadow, McNeill and Singleton1996). A lingua franca, such as Plains Indian Sign Language (Davis Reference Davis and Lucas2006) or co-speech gesture, will not suffice. Second, a linguistic community may be crucial so that individual users not only experience the system as conveyers of information, but also as receivers of information (Goldin-Meadow et al. Reference Goldin-Meadow, Namboodiripad, Mylander, Özyürek and Sancar2015b). This situation typically involves a group of people who use the same system and interact on a regular basis. Third, a language model may be essential; namely, a system that is already in use by the linguistic community may be modified by newly entering members as they acquire and use the system (Coppola & Senghas Reference Coppola, Senghas and Brentari2010; Senghas Reference Senghas2003; Senghas & Coppola Reference Senghas and Coppola2001). Populations with each of these factors have now been extensively studied and compared, providing evidence for a range of linguistic phenomena that do (and sometimes do not) depend on regular exposure to a language.
But it is only with a solid description of how gesture and language differ that we can come to understand how one type of communication system changes into another. The distinction between gesture and language that we call for in our target article is crucial for understanding how gesture becomes language.
Target article
Gesture, sign, and language: The coming of age of sign language and gesture studies
Related commentaries (27)
An evolutionary approach to sign language emergence: From state to process
Are gesture and speech mismatches produced by an integrated gesture-speech system? A more dynamically embodied perspective is needed for understanding gesture-related learning
Building a single proposition from imagistic and categorical components
Current and future methodologies for quantitative analysis of information transfer in sign language and gesture data
Emoticons in text may function like gestures in spoken or signed communication
Gesture or sign? A categorization problem
Gestures can create diagrams (that are neither imagistic nor analog)
Good things come in threes: Communicative acts comprise linguistic, imagistic, and modifying components
How to distinguish gesture from sign: New technology is not the answer
Iconic enrichments: Signs vs. gestures
Is it language (yet)? The allure of the gesture-language binary
Language readiness and learning among deaf children
Languages as semiotically heterogenous systems
Perspectives on gesture from autism spectrum disorder: Alterations in timing and function
Pros and cons of blurring gesture-language lines: An evolutionary linguistic perspective
Same or different: Common pathways of behavioral biomarkers in infants and children with neurodevelopmental disorders?
Sign, language, and gesture in the brain: Some comments
The categorical role of structurally iconic signs
The influence of communication mode on written language processing and beyond
The physiognomic unity of sign, word, and gesture
Toward true integration
Understanding gesture in sign and speech: Perspectives from theory of mind, bilingualism, and acting
Vocal laughter punctuates speech and manual signing: Novel evidence for similar linguistic and neurological mechanisms
What is a gesture? A lesson from comparative gesture research
Where does (sign) language begin?
Why space is not one-dimensional: Location may be categorical and imagistic
Why would the discovery of gestures produced by signers jeopardize the experimental finding of gesture-speech mismatch?
Author response
Gesture and language: Distinct subsystem of an integrated whole