quick thoughts on ai & translation

AI, Chat GPT: these are the buzzwords of the year. The machine mind has gotten smart enough to score in the 90th percentile on the Bar Exam and capable enough of human mimicry to offer plausible self-help advice. There is of course considerable debate as to what its real impact will be: a complete societal revolution followed by the machines taking over the planet and relegating humans to a subaltern role? Or another over-hyped technology, akin to the self-driving cars that were supposed to have put us all in the passenger seat by now?

But there is at least one arena that seems to keep coming up as an accepted point of agreement: translation. Open AI CEO Sam Altman recently mentioned in an interview that he enjoys being able to travel the word and communicate, thanks to technology, with people anywhere. On my favorite podcast, Vox writer Kelsey Piper said yesterday how excited she is for AI in the field of translation, comparing the transition to the shift in the nineteenth century toward machine-made rugs. Putting aside considerations on the quality of communication when traveling with Google or my thoughts on comparing rugs with language and human interaction (perhaps for another blog post), and acknowledging that despite some of my luddite tendencies I am not actually against the idea of technology used in the service of translation (we will all be cyborgs by the decade’s close), I want to take a moment to express my current reservations about these tools.

Out of curiosity, I’ve tried Chat GPT for translation. And in my professional life, agencies and direct clients often ask me to work with specialized translation tools that use both AI and more traditional machine translation methods. I would say that compared to similar systems even a few years ago, the improvements have been massive. Still, given all the hype around these technologies, I am continually surprised at how extensively I have to intervene, often to the point of completely retranslating giant chunks of text. Just this morning, I was working with one such tool that has been trained in industry-specific French to English translation, and to give you a short example of what we translators are dealing with, here are a few of the suggested translations compared to the end translations:

  • “These two models, fitting at the waist” became “These two shoes run small”
  • “Think about changing the price tags” became “Be sure to change the price tags”
  • “Put the product on the reverse side” became “Turn the garment inside out”

I’ve chosen these three examples nearly at random from a list that would be too long to reproduce here. The main criterion for selection was length: I didn’t want to do an in-depth autopsy of a long passage (again, perhaps for another day), preferring to give you a sample that could be grasped quickly and easily. As you can see, the first translation is simply nonsense. The second makes sense but does not convey the proper thrust of the imperative: this is not a suggestion but a command! Finally, while the third translation almost passes in terms of meaning, it lacks flow and naturalness; it sounds like a machine translation.

Ultimately, my point here is this: not so fast! I think there’s a lot to be considered in terms of what will be lost when we start replacing humans with machines for language jobs, from what it will do to the economy to notions about how we communicate with each other and create shared meaning. But for now, my thoughts are very much in the day-to-day work of translating and editing, and I would say that the task of the translator is still very much translation; that is, analyzing and understanding a text in its source (original) language and then, with considerable care and reflection, carrying that message over to the target language so it can be understood by a “foreign” reader.

This is why I am careful about the kinds of ‘post-editing’ (machine translation followed by human proofreading) jobs I take on. Because the language produced by artificial intelligence and machine translation still requires a lot of work. At times, I even ask myself if it takes me longer than a traditional translation, since I have to consider not only the source text but also the suggested translation–twice the reading! Moreover, the power of suggestion is difficult to counter. If the translation provided by the machine is not good–or simply if it could be better–it takes a certain amount of almost willpower to forget it and come up with something else.

My fear is that the promises of AI in this field will serve to drive down prices, even if the “assistance” provided does not save time in a proportionate way.

organizational tools and the laundry break

I recently attended a Zoom networking event between other language professionals. The gist of the session was tips, tricks, and tools for getting organized and staying focused. As the conversation unfolded, it dawned on me that my tips and tricks are fairly rudimentary and old-fashioned. I don’t use Pomodoro or special apps. I don’t turn off access to social media. I don’t really have any hacks to share. And while I was really interested to learn about all the gizmos and gadgets people are using these days to boost productivity, I felt a bit sheepish when the moderator called on me to share from my own experiences.

Mostly, I use a notepad and a day planner to jot down my to-do lists, which I organize into levels of urgency over time. When I finish my goals for the day, I cross them off. If anything is remaining at the end of a day, it gets rolled over to the next day’s list.

In terms of productivity, I would say that having a toddler has made me fairly immune to distractions–at least compared to the pre-parent version of myself. I simply don’t have minutes to spare, and that knowledge has drastically reduced the allure of social media and online shopping. I’ll admit, however, that I can fall into mean research rabbit holes, but even those seem much shallower than before.

Of course, there’s the question of how to manage wildly different projects at the same time. Within the space of a workday, the translator’s mind can be taken on divergent journeys: romance fiction, tourist hotspots, marketing for children’s clothing, EU documentation, and more. Here, I found a good deal of convergence with the other Zoomers: to prevent whiplash, best to segment the day, with bouts of fresh air or household chores between each project. One woman spoke of doing the laundry as a well-deserved break from a tedious proofreading project. I could relate!

translation and research

A conversation with a potential client last week has had me thinking about the disjunct between what people think goes into translation and what actually does. Of course, it’s natural that we don’t understand all the nitty-gritty of other professions. I only have a vague idea of what goes on inside a cockpit or how lawyers spend their days, notions gleaned mainly from Studs Terkel’s 1974 book Working (I jest–kind of) and media portrayals. But, in light of AI’s storm on my livelihood (subject for another blog post) and just for general insight into what happens after you, the client, confirm a project, I would like to clarify an overlooked but vital part of the work of a translator: research.

So the client in question, whose target readers are funeral homes and the bereaved, was very rightly concerned about getting the language just right in English. A translation gaffe here could be less on the order of accuracy and more related to conveying the message in a sensitive and culturally appropriate way. The concern here is two-fold: the translator must both find the habits of language used in the rites and rituals of funeral ceremonies and strike the right note of caring and sensitivity appropriate to grief.

The client, who is interested in both translation and post-editing (AI/machine translation followed by intensive proofreading and editing) services, wanted to know my rate for research. This is a wonderful inquiry from a client. On the one hand, it shows a real attentiveness to the message they wish to put forward, and on the other, it demonstrates a true understanding that research takes time–and time is money.

Yet I do not have an additional rate for research, and that is because research is nearly always inherent to what I do as a translator. Research can be as straightforward as hunting down terms in various language resources–general and specialized dictionaries in French and English, linguist forums, Google searches, and so on. It can go more in depth, pushing me down field-specific rabbit holes. And it can be very academic, as I read and scan through journals, books, and periodicals (my early training in academia is a big help here). I may watch YouTube videos or search through images; I may take time to watch a documentary or immerse myself in relevant literature. The strategies and tactics change depending on the project at hand and, to a certain degree, on my previous experiences.

My educational background in literature, culture, and theory makes me particularly well-suited to translating for cultural fields. However, all kinds of life experiences can be brought to bear in this profession. I am surprised by how often I rely on recollections of my first job as a sales associate at Banana Republic or memories of my environmentalist grandparents. Past translation work has also left a strong mark on my practice, including numerous scholarly publications in postcolonial studies and even romance and detective fiction.

Whatever the project, there will inevitably be some degree of research. This, among other things, is what I am evaluating when I ask to see the original text–or at least an excerpt–before generating a quote. Like many translators, I have a sliding rate scale to reflect the time and skills a translation will require. Many criteria go into this evaluation and of course one of the main ones is research. So, rest assured, dear client, when I send you a quote, the research fee is already rolled in!

2028 ECOC

Disappointed to see that Reims is out of the running for the title of European Capital of Culture in 2028! I had the wonderful opportunity this past fall to work with a small team of linguists on translating the bid documents for the Reims application. This vibrant city, with its history of coronations and culture of champagne, its multi-cultural makeup and ecologically tuned-in population, put forward an ambitious project that brought together myriad groups and actors from all walks of Reims’ diverse landscape. I’m certainly excited to see which city the European Commission ends up crowning for 2028. Here’s the current shortlist: Czech Republic–Broumov and Budejovice. France–Rouen, Bourges, Clermont-Ferrand, Montpellier.

https://www.ecocnews.com/

https://www.reims2028.fr/

Why Machine Translation is Not My Bogeyman

File:Gustave Doré - Dante Alighieri - Inferno - Plate 13 (Canto V - Minos).jpg
Gustave Doré – Dante Alighieri – Inferno – Plate 13 (Canto V – Minos)

There are many misconceptions about the job of translators. When I get out from behind my computer and into the world, the people I interact with, from family members to other professionals to parents in my son’s 0-3 play group, inevitably do one of the following: treat me as a human dictionary, express skepticism about my stance on not translating out of my mother tongue, act surprised I don’t speak a gazillion languages, give me a sly look as they ask about machine translation and what they assume is my impending obsolescence. An author once jokingly admitted his astonishment at meeting a real live translator, as if I were a rare specimen, one bound for extinction. (I went on to translate several of his books.) Even though much of what we do as translators happens remotely, and so necessarily through the mediation of machines, our task remains inherently human. I have no interest in reading a novel or poem written by a robot, since how can a machine give me insight into the human soul? Likewise for a translation made entirely through machine translation: how can technology understand and render all the nuance, tone, cultural innuendo, and je ne sais quoi of great literature? Indeed, the fact that some books get retranslated again and again, to better speak to different generations of readers, is telling.

Yet machine translation, particularly together with other features of Computer Assisted Translation tools, is becoming more and more vital to our work, making us more efficient, less prone to error, and better able to collaborate—provided, that is, we know when and how to make use of these tools. For some texts, they can be an asset. Translation software is often a good solution for documents featuring a lot of repetition, since it helps translators be consistent in their vocabulary choices and can free up mental space for more challenging areas of the text. It can also ensure that numbers and dates don’t get distorted through typing errors. Moreover, in my work as a translation proofreader, I have come across many translations with missing sections of the original text. This can happen when translations are made under tight deadlines that don’t give translators the time to review their own work against the source text. But, even under time constraints, it can be avoided with the help of translation software. Finally, for large, on-going projects (as in some legal cases, long-term marketing campaigns, etc.) software can help translators work together and provide consistent language choices, even over periods of many years.

In my experience, machine translation tools are not well suited to literary or even academic translation. In addition to the loftier ideals mentioned above, I attribute this in large part to parsing. Most translation software parses texts into sentence-by-sentence segments and will then provide translation suggestions, recommended vocabulary, and so forth. But a literary translator needs to work not only at the minute level of the sentence or the individual word, they also have to grasp the larger whole, which can sometimes call for work on a more architectural scale as the translator rebuilds a section to better reflect what the source text is up to. Even the suggestions given by machine translation can be a nuisance, cluttering the translator’s mind and preventing them from straying away from the source text’s syntax, for example, to find other, less obvious solutions.

Similar reservations can be expressed for academic translation, though there is one thing I would like to add: academic style. Cultural differences apply not only to the content of what is being expressed but to the form. The ways in which we express ideas, including sentence length, the amount and type of jargon used, what we consider “smart” language, the acceptable use of repetition or passive voice, and so many other factors, can vary dramatically from one academic culture to the next. And this cultural straddling, this refashioning of a text to make it cohere with the target culture’s expectations and norms: this requires human judgment.

I am a translator, and I am not afraid machine translation will put me out of a job. Machine translation is one of many tools at my disposal to provide the best possible translations for my clients. Now, what is my bogeyman? A last-minute babysitter cancellation when I’ve got a deadline coming up. Or the Internet going down …

The American Translators Association has a useful position paper on machine translation: ATA Position Paper on Machine Translation: A Clear Approach to a Complex Topic. Their takeaway: “Professional translators and machine translation engines work together very well. […] If reliable and secure translation is desired, machine translation should not be used without the ongoing involvement of professional translators.”

Race, resistance, and social change

New published translation out in The Red and the Black: The Russian Revolution and the Black Atlantic. This book is part of an exciting and timely series on race by Manchester University Press. Other titles include: A Savage Song: Racist Violence and Armed Resistance in the Early Twentieth-Century US-Mexico Borderlands (by Margarita Aragon), Black Resistance to British Policing (by Adam Elliott-Cooper), Global White Nationalism: From Apartheid to Trump (eds. Daniel Geary et al.), Race Talk: Languages of Racism and Resistance in Neapolitan Street Markets (by Antonia Lucia Dawes), and more.

France in the World

New published translations in this dynamic collaborative project:

This dynamic collection presents a new way of writing national and global histories while developing our understanding of France in the world through short, provocative essays that range from prehistoric frescoes to Coco Chanel to the terrorist attacks of 2015.

Bringing together an impressive group of established and up-and-coming historians, this bestselling history conceives of France not as a fixed, rooted entity, but instead as a place and an idea in flux, moving beyond all borders and frontiers, shaped by exchanges and mixtures. Presented in chronological order from 34,000 BC to 2015, each chapter covers a significant year from its own particular angle–the marriage of a Viking leader to a Carolingian princess proposed by Charles the Fat in 882, the Persian embassy’s reception at the court of Louis XIV in 1715, the Chilean coup d’état against President Salvador Allende in 1973 that mobilized a generation of French left-wing activists.

France in the World combines the intellectual rigor of an academic work with the liveliness and readability of popular history. With a brand-new preface aimed at an international audience, this English-language edition will be an essential resource for Francophiles and scholars alike.

Book translated and adapted from the French:

‘ Ce ne serait pas trop de l’histoire du monde pour expliquer la France ‘

Jules Michelet, Introduction à l’histoire universelle (1831)

Voici une histoire de France, de toute la France, en très longue durée qui mène de la grotte Chauvet aux événements de 2015.

Une histoire qui ne s’embarrasse pas plus de la question des origines que de celle de l’identité, mais prend au large le destin d’un pays qui n’existe pas séparément du monde, même si parfois il prétend l’incarner tout entier. Une histoire qui n’abandonne pas pour autant la chronologie ni le plaisir du récit, puisque c’est par dates qu’elle s’organise et que chaque date est traitée comme une petite intrigue.

Réconciliant démarche critique et narration entraînante, l’ouvrage réunit, sous la direction de Patrick Boucheron, un collectif d’historiennes et d’historiens, tous attachés à rendre accessible un discours engagé et savant. Son enjeu est clair : il s’agit de prendre la mesure d’une histoire mondiale de la France, c’est-à-dire de raconter la même histoire nul contre-récit ici qui revisite tous les lieux de mémoire du récit national, mais pour la déplacer, la dépayser et l’élargir. En un mot : la rendre simplement plus intéressante !

Ce livre est joyeusement polyphonique. Espérons qu’un peu de cette joie saura faire front aux passions tristes du moment.

Directeur d’ouvrage : Patrick Boucheron est professeur au Collège de France.

Coordination : Nicolas Delalande est professeur associé au Centre d’histoire de Sciences Po ; Florian Mazel est professeur à l’université Rennes 2 ; Yann Potin est chargé d’études documentaires aux Archives nationales ; Pierre Singaravélou est professeur à l’université Paris I Panthéon-Sorbonne.

The Colonial Legacy in France Fracture, Rupture, and Apartheid

Edited by Nicolas Bancel, Pascal Blanchard, and Dominic Thomas
Translated by Alexis Pernsteiner
Distribution: World
Publication date: 5/2/2017
Format: cloth 500 pages
6 x 9
ISBN: 978-0-253-02625-5

Debates about the legacy of colonialism in France are not new, but they have taken on new urgency in the wake of recent terrorist attacks. Responding to acts of religious and racial violence in 2005, 2010, and 2015 and beyond, the essays in this volume pit French ideals against government-sponsored revisionist decrees that have exacerbated tensions, complicated the process of establishing and recording national memory, and triggered divisive debates on what it means to identify as French. As they document the checkered legacy of French colonialism, the contributors raise questions about France and the contemporary role of Islam, the banlieues, immigration, race, history, pedagogy, and the future of the Republic. This innovative volume reconsiders the cultural, economic, political, and social realities facing global French citizens today and includes contributions by Achille Mbembe, Benjamin Stora, Françoise Vergès, Alec Hargreaves, Elsa Dorlin, and Alain Mabanckou, among others.

Deadly Aid, Michel Tarou

Jeanne Lebrec knows that in real life, criminals are rewarded and the virtuous suffer. As a social worker, she has dedicated herself to helping the poor, the desperate, and the down and out, but now it seems like all she sees are deadbeat dads and drug-addicted moms who use people and have no desire to better themselves.

One day, after a particularly heartbreaking case, Jeanne reaches her limit and does something unexpected—with deadly consequences. Before long, she’s secretly practicing her own twisted version of “social services.” In a world where bad guys win and good guys pay, is there a difference between justice and retribution?

Published by AmazonCrossing in July 2015: buy it here.