Of Grammatology

Derrida suggests that writing about language is difficult because the only medium available to do so is language itself.

The Program

For centuries prior to Derrida’s work, speech dominated the hierarchical binary of the oral word and written language. In this binary, writing serves merely to assist the communication of speech. The written word is a direct reference to spoken language. Speech holds this superior place because it is considered closer to thought. An individual thinks and speaks in tandem, and the listener receives this intimate form of language by listening. This philosophical view portrays writing as “the signifier of the signifier” (7), meaning that words on a page, rather than representing the signified, represent the spoken word.

However, Derrida argues that this hierarchy is shifting, and the written word is establishing itself as a singular signifier. Derrida suggests that words derive meaning from other words; they are contextual. People only understand words through their association with other signifiers. Writing opens the opportunity to play with language and stretch the limits of possibility, expanding human understanding of signifiers and meaning.

The Signifier and Truth

Derrida demonstrates the source of logocentrism’s ideologies by citing Hegel and Saussure. In the binary opposition of logocentrism, the line that connects the signifier and the signified is short. The person thinks of something and speaks a word to represent it—the distance between soul and language is minimal. Logocentrism thus places speech on a pedestal as a form of communication that is closer to the divine. The written word, in contrast, adds a step. A person thinks of something, identities the spoken word to represent it, and then writes the word. The word that is written signifies the spoken word, not the thought itself. Derrida quotes Aristotle’s summary of this idea: “spoken words are the symbols of mental experience and written words are the symbols of spoken words” (11).

Derrida proposes that the real reason for writing’s secondary status is that it upends logocentrism. Logocentrism hinges on the direct line between thought and language; it’s a philosophy that adheres to fixed meaning and absolute truth. However, the nature of writing reveals that there is no signification of truth. Deconstruction shows how meaning is dependent instead on the relationship between the signifier and the signified. This bond can be broken through deconstruction. A word like “justice” may mean one thing to one person and something else entirely to another. Signs are ever-changing. Language is read or heard, so there is always space between the sign and the mind of the communicator, rendering it impossible to determine an absolute truth. Therefore, language in any form is vulnerable to deconstruction.

The Written Being/The Being Written

Derrida proposes that the relationship between the signified and the signifier is faulty at best. The signifier only hints at the signified, offering a mere suggestion of connection. The space between the idea or thought and the spoken or written signifier destabilizes meaning. Western philosophers, up to the point of Derrida’s writing, centered their work on metaphysics, which studies the nature of reality. Derrida argues that metaphysics is far too focused on objective truth, which leads to binaries and, in turn, to privileging one half of each binary over the other. An example is the good–evil binary, which privileges good over evil. Derrida also argues that metaphysics emphasizes the present over both the past and the future, which is far too limiting. The “metaphysics of presence,” as Derrida terms this view, always ignores the role of absence or negation in lived experiences. He proposes that philosophers seek truth and meaning with such eagerness that they fail to understand the “différance” of language.

Having outlined the privilege of speech over writing in historical philosophy, Derrida points out that language and writing are nearly impossible to separate. Their origins are simultaneous. He poses the question of whether grammatology, or the science of writing, could function like mathematics, which has abandoned the concrete for the symbolic. A science of writing, or linguistics, for example, should acknowledge that the birth of science was dependent on writing and examine speech and writing in the same way. Derrida does not seek to position writing above speech in the same hierarchical binary; instead, he proposes either viewing the two as having equal footing or disassembling the binary entirely.

The Outside and the Inside

Derrida begins his examination of the science of writing by exploring what Saussure has already established in the field of linguistics. Saussure’s philosophy, as well as Rousseau’s, is built on Plato and Aristotle’s model of language, which proposes that the written word represents speech rather than thought. Saussure emphasized the distinction between speech and writing. Derrida argues that Saussure’s methodology is too limiting. Saussure’s theories about writing are based on the phonemic alphabet. Each letter points to a sound. In this way, writing does mirror speech. However, Derrida suggests that the words on a page are a language of their own, directly connected to thought.

Saussure saw writing only as a system of signs. He did not take into account pictographs and early forms of writing that utilize images. He limits himself by only focusing on phonetic systems that were derived from the Greek alphabet. This limitation leads Saussure to his assertion that writing is an internal act with little connection to the external world. Derrida praises Saussure’s logic, but he questions the disdain of Saussure and Rousseau for the written word:

Where is the evil? one will perhaps ask. And what has been invested in the ‘living word’ that makes such ‘aggressions’ of writing intolerable? that begins by even determining the constant action of writing as a deformation and aggression? What interdiction has thus been transgressed? Where is the sacrilege? (45).

After breaking down Saussure’s arguments, Derrida presents the possibility of an approach to linguistics that examines writing and speech equally.

The Outside Is the Inside

Derrida begins this section with a bold statement: the relationship between the signifier and the signified is arbitrary. Language is too slippery and complex to be defined by a system of one-to-one correlation. Therefore, Saussure’s assertion that writing is a symbol of language is false. Derrida argues that humans live in a world made up of signs. Each sign conjures another. He defines a sign as “anything which determines something else” (54). Human existence consists of signs, and all thoughts are signs. Each sign begets another for infinity. Human understanding of a sign is predicated on a person’s knowledge of other signs and personal experience. Each sign is distinguished and defined by the signs around it.

American linguists often refer to writing as a form of play. Derrida rejects the idea that writing attempts to contain the world. Instead, he proposes that the science of writing should emphasize the arbitrariness of the sign and the dependence of signs on one another. Deconstruction exposes the underlying current of a text, including its adherence to binaries and metaphysics of presence. Additionally, each sign contains what Derrida terms “traces,” meaning that each word conjures other signs. Deconstruction is the attempt to shed light on the invisible traces that influence the meaning of signs.

The Hinge (La Brisuge)

In this section, Derrida turns his attention to the influence of past, present, and future on language and trace. Signs are imprinted with the present and the past. These markers, Derrida suggests, comprise the trace. Each signifier contains traces of other signifiers. He argues that language must also be understood in the future. The past is in a constant state of erasure, so the sign is constantly losing meaning when examined only through the lens of past and present. Trace in language renders determining an absolute meaning of a sign impossible. The “hinge” refers to the idea that a signifier and a signified can never be fully unified.

Derrida opens this chapter by presenting several questions. First, he asks what conditions are necessary for a system of grammatology. This question opens more inquiry, including a question about the origin of writing.

Algebra: Arcanum and Transparence

It is difficult to pinpoint when and where writing first originated. Derrida argues that the 19th century is full of misconceptions about the past, so examining the history of writing independent of assumption is necessary. The philosopher explores the origin of the Western alphabet, centering his work on two philosophers: René Descartes and Gottfried Wilhelm Leibniz. This section functions as a conversation between the two philosophers, exploring whether there can ever be a clear, universal language and the role of Chinese writing in language more broadly.

Chinese writing is liberated from the association of language with sound. The Western alphabet, in contrast, relies on a phonetic relationship. Derrida maintains that logocentrism still dominates languages, but the failure to acknowledge writing systems like Hanzi exposes logocentrism’s foundation in ethnocentrism.

Science and the Name of Man

In this section, Derrida examines the advances of language in technology and mathematics. The latter comes closest to achieving a universal language, but Derrida acknowledges that mathematics can never express certain thoughts or ideas. While machines are making strides in developing a language of their own that can be understood by and affect both people and the machines themselves, Derrida argues that language can never be separated from its connection to humanity. The gesture of the hand is tied to speech. As writing becomes less linear through the development of new technologies, humans must learn how to read differently.

The Rebus and the Complicity of Origins

In this final section, Derrida emphasizes that writing is important and deserves attention. He suggests that all progress and thinking is improved by the development of writing. Despite its vastness, the science of writing is limited, and constructing a science of writing is a difficult but meaningful task.