This chapter highlights the dangers of linguistic inaccuracies and misunderstandings that permeate discussions on blockchain technology and non-fungible tokens (NFTs), impacting policy and legal outcomes. It identifies two critical issues hindering effective legislation: a lack of comprehension of blockchain technology’s technical nuances and a failure to appreciate the link between blockchain-related terminology and the intricacies of varying blockchain protocols. By borrowing frequently misused terms without questioning their technical accuracy, policy-makers may unwittingly stifle innovation and develop legal regimes that are ill-suited for their intended purpose. This chapter explores six specific language landmines prevalent in blockchain and NFT discussions, urging researchers, lawmakers, industry members, and other stakeholders to bridge the understanding gap. By addressing these linguistic pitfalls, the chapter advocates for informed and comprehensive policy-making that keeps pace with the evolving landscape of blockchain technology and its applications, including NFTs.

In Chapter 3, we are fortunate to have three contributing authors, Susan Poetsch, Denise Angelo and Rhonda Anjilkurri Radley, bringing their research and lived experience in Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander languages.. The chapter describes a dynamic and detailed picture of the multilingualism of communities and the developing ecologies of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander languages. Through six real-life vignettes and visits to communities, we meet multilingual Indigenous children in their daily lives, who move between multiple modes of language use, with their families and in school. The chapter highlights the widespread use of new Indigenous languages (including creoles such as Kriol and Yumplatok) and the revival and revitalisation of traditional Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander languages in some communities. The chapter also highlights Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people’s ways of using English, and the linguistic challenges faced by many children in school.

To support experiential learning, HLVC data are available for research (by permission, and with protections for the participants). This chapter illustrates the integration of research and community-engaged learning, which is critical to the success of the project. It presents activities that support critical and creative thinking, enable theoretical knowledge to be empirically tested, and facilitate and enhance quantitative reasoning, information literacy, and the communication of research. It includes a section on how to best conduct and teach research methods to support the vitality of the languages being examined and one on ethical practices. Sociolinguistics trails other subfields in analyzing data outside the majority language (English). With these supports, students can change this situation. The exercises exemplify tasks that students have undertaken and can help others get started. Exercises provide prompts and show how to gain access to instruments and data. In addition, the course Exploring Heritage Languages, which has modules that can be (adapted and) used, is introduced. The HLVC corpus and these modules provide instructional infrastructure to scaffold undergraduate and graduate class assignments teaching relevant theory and research skills.

This book has tried to bring out the richness and complexity of the ethical fabric of Sophocles’ plays. Moral issues are not merely motifs, but inform the dramatic structure, and are developed with care and subtlety on the linguistic level. A multiplicity of ethical standpoints is presented in such a way that their implications and practical results are dramatised through choice and argument. While it may be true that an obviously unpleasant character tends to express sentiments contrary to conventional Athenian values, these plays are not melodramas in which only the virtuous command our sympathy and the villains our distaste.

This chapter summarizes the contents and arguments of the preceding chapters, drawing together the major observations and implications of the work, in particular in relation to the influence and continuing relevance of Pāṇini and the ancient Indian linguistic tradition for modern Western linguistics.

While regularly recognized as a statesman, an educational reformer, the founder of the University of Berlin, and a scholar in political science, philosophy, and literature, Wilhelm von Humboldt (1767–1835) has not always received as much acknowledgment for his contributions in anthropology or linguistics. When he is paid homage as a student of languages, it is for his role as a philosopher of language rather than as a philologist or linguist. When on other occasions Western academia has remembered Humboldt as a distinct linguist, he has appeared as a scholar of almost all languages except those of Africa or the Americas – and yet it is the very languages of the Western Hemisphere to which Humboldt paid his longest and most intensive attention, as evident by a set of recent publications in German. Chapter 1 offers an introductory discussion for an anglophone audience interested in Humboldt’s contributions to Americanist linguistics.

This volume reflects on modes of scholarship in Latin literature: what texts do we read? How do we read them? And why? The introductory chapter first surveys the tools of the trade in the twenty-first century, then asks how ‘classical Latin’ is defined. We reflect on the exclusion of Christian Latin texts from the Oxford Latin Dictionary, try to quantify the corpus of surviving classical Latin, and uncover striking continuities between the canon of authors prescribed by Quintilian and modern teaching and research in classical Latin; commensurately, we draw attention to the neglect suffered by most surviving classical Latin authors and still more by the pagan and Christian texts of late antiquity. In the process we set an agenda for the volume as a whole, of ‘decentring’ classical Latin, and offer some first points of orientation in the late antique, mediaeval and early modern eras. Third, we look afresh at relations between Latin and fellow sub-disciplines in Classics and beyond. How much do we have in common, and what problems stand in the way of more successful communication? We close with some reflections on ‘close reading’ and on the possibility of evolving ‘distant reading’.

Periodisations are inevitable and useful short-cuts in conceptualising the past. But they are often inherited without reflection or a clear idea of their origins; in literature they can endow fashionable aesthetic judgements with lasting canonical force in ways that can be intellectually harmful. Latin is a language with a literary history of over two millennia, with highly differentiated levels of survival from different periods, and with a complex scholarly tradition: its periodisation is both important and challenging. I open with three vignettes of attitudes to Latin literature which in their different ways show the tendency to esteem antiquity above all. I look at six possible ways in which the history of Latin literature has been periodised or could be better periodised, with a recurring focus on two particularly dynamic periods : the last half-century before Christ and the fourth and fifth centuries of our era. An examination of changes in language, metre, prose rhythm, politics, religion and book history is used to challenge and test established periodisations, and to suggest the benefits of a greater acknowledgement of continuities and the longue durée.

If some of our knowledge cannot be articulated, how does it make itself manifest? It will not surprise anyone who has followed the argument of this book up to now that there are things that we can do with knowledge besides talking about it. Millikan, as we saw, used his knowledge of experimentation and of professional discourse to guide his exemplary investigations of the charge of the electron. Neither was something he made explicit; I doubt that he (or anyone) could have. No practitioner who looked at Millikan’s work found any basis for these accusations, because their training endowed them with a knowledge only available to practitioners. They all made effective use of this knowledge, despite not being able to articulate its content. That kind of knowledge manifests itself not in the form of beliefs, but rather in the scholar’s sense of how things seem.

This chapter provides a short introduction to historical orthography, discussing purposes, ambitions and boundaries within the subfield. It also outlines chapter contents.