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Saussure's Concept of the Sign

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NATURE OF THE LINGUISTIC SIGN</h3></center> 
 

<blockquote><blockquote>[Saussure introduces the structuralist point of view into
linguistics which is marked first of all by giving special relief to
the synchronic dimension in the study of language. The
synchronic dimension is distinguished from the diachronic, that
is, historic. The idea is that an account of the present meaning
of words and sentences, i.e. semantics, can't be reduced to a
historical study. This may seem obvious to us, but the study of
linguistic meaning prior to Saussure had been historical with
considerations of structure limited largely to a consideration of
grammar. The idea is that meaning, or signification, depends on
the SYSTEM of language given by a number of laws of equilibrium
which constitute the relative systemic stability of linguistic
meaning at the moment when, in virtue of this system, one
speaks. So we have the distinction between la langue and la
parole. Language is the articulated use of the system, la langue

in speech, la parole. La langue is language minus la parole. It is
difficult to overestimate the significance of Saussure's idea for
a whole generation of French thinkers. For insofar as language
enters into the determination of a whole variety of social
phenomena, its effects as structure enter in as well. Post
structuralist thinkers remain in debt to Saussure for however
dynamic and open-textured
structures come to be, one
can't go back to purely
historical modes of
interpretation. The
structuring effects of
discourse, the agency of the
letter in Lacan's terms, must be taken into account.]</blockquote> 
 

<blockquote>1. Sign, Signified, Signifier 

Some people regard language, when reduced to its elements, as 
a naming-process only‹a list of words, each corresponding to the 

thing that it names. For example:
 
 
 <img src="saussure1.jpeg" height="0" width="0">
 
 
 
 
 
 
This conception is open to criticism at several points. It assumes 
that ready-made ideas exist before words (on this point, see below, 
p. 111); it does not tell us whether a name is vocal or psychological 

in nature (arbor, for instance, can be considered from either view- 
point); finally, it lets us assume that the linking of a name and a 
thing is a very simple operation‹an assumption that is anything 
but true. But this rather naive approach can bring us near the 
truth by showing us that the linguistic unit is a double entity, one 
formed by the associating of two terms 

We have seen in considering the speaking-circuit (p. 11) that both
terms involved in the linguistic sign are psychological and are 

united in the brain by an assocative bond- This point must be 
emphasized. 

The linguistic sign unites, not a thing and a name, but a concept 
and a sound-image.[l] The latter is not the material sound, a purely 
physical thing, but the psychological imprint of the sound, the 
impression that it makes on our senses. The sound-image is sensory, 
and if I happen to call it "material,"' it is only in that sense, and by 
way of opposing it to the other term of the association, the concept, 

which is generally more abstract. 

The psychological character of our sound-images becomes ap- 
parent when we observe our own speech. Without moving our lips 
or tongue, we can talk to ourselves or recite mentally a selection of 
verse. Because we regard the words of our language as sound- 
images, we must avoid speaking of the "phonemes" that make up 
the words. This term, which suggests vocal activity, is applicable 
to the spoken word only, to the realization of the inner image in 

discourse. We can avoid that misunderstanding by speaking of the 
sounds and syllables of a word provided we remember that the 
names refer to the sound-image. 

The linguistic sign is then a two-sided psychological entity that 
can be represented by the drawing: 
 

<img src="saussure2.jpeg" height="0" width="0"> 

The two elements are intimately united, and each recalls the 
other. Whether we try to find the meaning of the Latin word arbor 
or the word that Latin uses to designate the concept "tree," it is
 
 
1. The term sound-image may seem to be too restricted inasmuch as beside 
the representation of the sounds of a word there is also that of its articulation, 

tbe muscular image of the phonational act. But for F. de Saussure language is 
essentially a depository, a thing received from without (see p. 13). The sound 
image is par excellence the natural representation of the word as a fact of 
potential language, outside any actual use of it in speaking. The motor side is 
thus implied or, in any event, occupies only a subordinate role with respect 
to the sound-image. [Ed.]
 
 
 
 
 

 
 
 
clear that only the associations sanctioned by that language appeal 
to us to conform to reality, and we disregard whatever others 
might be imagined. 

Our definition of the linguistic sign poses an important question 
of terminology. I call the combination of a concept and a sound- 
image a sign, but in current usage the term generally designates 

only a sound-image, a word, for example (arbor, etc.). One tends 
to forget that arbor is called a sign only because it carries the con- 
cept "tree," with the result that the idea of the sensory part 
implies the idea of the whole. 
 

<img src="saussure3.jpeg" height="0" width="0">
 
 
 

 
Ambiguity would disappear if the three notions involved here 
were designated by three names, each suggesting and opposing the 
others. I propose to retain the word sign [signe] to designate the 
whole and to replace concept and sound-image respectively by 

signified
[signifié] and
signifier
[signifiant];
the last two
terms have 
the advantage of indicating the opposition that separates them 
from each other and from the whole of which they are parts. As 
regards sign, if I am satisfied with it, this is simply because I do not 
know of any word to replace it, the ordinary language suggesting 
no other. 

The linguistic sign, as defined, has two primordial character- 
istics. In enunciating them I am also positing the basic principles of 
any study of this type. 

2. Principle 1: The Arbitrary Nature of the Sign 

The bond between the signifier and the signified is arbitrary. 
Since I mean by sign the whole that results from the associating of 

the signifier with the signified, I can simply say: the linguistic sign 
is arbitrary. 

The idea of "sister" is not linked by any inner relationship to 
the succession of sounds s-ö-r which serves as its signifier in French; 
that it could be represented equally by just any other sequence is 
proved by differences among languages and by the very existence 

of different languages: the signified "ox" has as its signifier b-ô-f 
on one side of the border and o-k-s (Ochs) on the other. 

No one disputes the principle of the arbitrary nature of the sign, 
but it is often easier to discover a truth than to assign to it its 
proper place. Principle I dominates all the linguistics of language; 
its consequences are numberless. It is true that not all of them are 

equally obvious at first glance; only after many detours does one 
discover them, and with them the primordial importance of the 
principle. 

One remark in passing: when semiology becomes organized as 
a science, the question will arise whether or not it properly includes 
modes of expression based on completely natural signs, such as 
pantomime. Supposing that the new science welcomes them, its 
main concern will still be the whole group of systems grounded on 

the arbitrariness of the sign. In fact, every means of expression used 
in society is based, in principle, on collective behavior or‹what 
amounts to the same thing‹on convention. Polite formulas, for 
instance, though often imbued with a certain natural expressive- 
ness (as in the case of a Chinese who greets his emperor by bowing 
down to the ground nine times), are nonetheless fixed by rule; it is 
this rule and not the intrinsic value of the gestures that obliges one 
to use them. Signs that are wholly arbitrary realize better than the 
others the ideal of the semiological process; that is why language, 

the most complex and universal of all systems of expression, is also 
the most characteristic; in this sense linguistics can become the 
master-pattern for all branches of semiology although language is 
only one particular semiological system. 

The word symbol has been used to designate the linguistic sign, 
or more specifically, what is here called the signifier. Principle I in 

particular weighs against the use of this term. One characteristic 
of the symbol is that it is never wholly arbitrary; it is not empty, 
for there is the rudiment of a natural bond between the signifier 
and the signified. The symbol of justice, a pair of scales, could not 
be replaced by just any other symbol, such as a chariot. 

The word arbitrary also calls ior commcnt. The term should not 

imply that the choice of the signifier is left entirely to the speaker 
(we shall see below that the individual does not have the power to 
change a sign in any way once it has become established in the 
linguistic community); I mean that it is unmotivated, i.e. arbitrary 
in that it actually has no natural connection with the signified. 
In concluding let us consider two objections that might be raised 
to the establishment of Principle I: 

1) Onomatopoeia might be used to prove that the choice of the 

signifier is not always arbitrary. But onomatopoeic formations are 
never organic elements of a linguistic system. Besides, their number 
is much smaller than is generally supposed. Words like French 
fouet 'whip' or glas 'knell' may strike certain ears with suggestive 
sonority, but to see that they have not always had this property 
we need only examine their Latin forms (fouet is derived from fagus 

'beech-tree,' glas from classicum 'sound of a trumpet'). The quality 
of their present sounds, or rather the quality that is attributed to 
them, is a fortuitous result of phonetic evolution. 

As for authentic onomatopoeic words (e.g. glug~glug, tick-tock, 
etc.), not only are they limited in number, but also they are chosen 

somewhat arbitrarily, for they are only approximate and more or 
less conventional imitations of certain sounds (cf. English bo~boto 
and French ouaoua). In addition, once these words have been intro- 
duced into the language, they are to a certain extent subjected to 
the same evolution‹phonetic, morphological, etc.‹that other 
words undergo (cf. pigeon, ultimately from Vulgar Latin pipio, 
derived in turn from an onomatopoeic formation): obvious proof 

that they lose something of their original character in order to 
assume that of the linguistic sign in general, which is unmotivated. 

2) Interjections, closely related to onomatopoeia, can be at- 
tacked on the same grounds and come no closer to refuting our 
thesis. One is tempted to see in them spontaneous expressions of 
reality dictated, so to speak, by natural forces. But for most inter- 
jectlons we can show that there is no fixed bond between their sig- 

nified and their signifier. We need only compare two languages on 
this point to see how much such expressions differ from one lan- 
guage to the next (e.g. the English equivalent of French aie! is 
ouch!). We know, moreover, that many interjections were once 
words with specific meanings (cf. French diable! 'darn!' mordieu! 

'golly!' from mort Dieu 'God's death,' etc.).' 

Onomatopoeic formations and interjections are of secondary 
irnportance, and their symbolic origin is in part open to dispute. 
 

3. Principle II: The Linear Nature of the Signifier 

The signifier, being auditory, is unfolded solely in time from 
which it gets the following characteristics: (a) it represents a span, 
and (b) the span is measurable in a single dimension; it is a line. 
While Principle II is obvious, apparently linguists have always 
neglected to state it, doubtless because they found it too simple; 
nevertheless, it is fundamental, and its consequences are incal- 
culable. Its importance equals that of Principle I; the whole 
mechanism of language depends upon it (see p. 122 f.). In contrast 

to visual signifiers (nautical signals, etc.) which can offer simul- 
taneous groupings in several dimensions, auditory signifiers have 
at their command only the dimension of time. Their elements are 
presented in succession; they form a chain. This feature becomes 
readily apparent when they are represented in writing and the 
spatial line of graphic marks is substituted for succession in time. 

Sometimes the linear nature of the signifier is not obvious. When 
I accent a syllable, for instance, it seems that I am concentrating 

more than one significant element on the same point. But this is an 
illusion; the syllable and its accent constitute only one phonational 
act. There is no duality within the act but only different op- 
positions to what precedes and what follows (on this subject, see 
p. 131). 
 

IMMUTABILITY AND MUTABILITY OF THE SIGN 

1. Immutability 

The signifier, tbough to all appearances freely chosen with re- 
spect to the idea that it represcnts, iæ fixed, not free, with respect 
to the linguistic community that uses it. The masses have no voice 
in the matter, and the signifier chosen by language could be re- 
placed by no other. This fact, which seems to embody a contradic- 
tion, might be called colloquially "the stacked deck." We say to 
language: "Choose!" but we add: "It must be this sign and no 
other." No individual, even if he willed it, could modify in any 

way at all the choice that hag been made; and what is more, the 
community itself cannot control so much as a single word; it is 
bound to the existing language. 

No longer can language be identified with a contract pure and 
simple, and it is precisely from this viewpoint that the linguistic 
sign is a particularly interesting object of study; for language 
furnishes the best proof that a law accepted by a community is a 
thing that is tolerated and not a rule to which all freely consent. 

Let us first see why we cannot control the linguistic sign and then 
draw together the important consequences that issue from the 
phenomenon. 

No matter what period we chooge or how far back we go, lan- 
guage always appears as a heritage of the preceding period. We 
might conceive of an act by which, at a given moment, names were 
assigned to things and a contract was formed between concepts 
and sound-images; but such an act has never been recorded. The 

notion that things might have happened like that was prompted 
by our acute awareness of the arbitrary nature of the sign- 

No society, in fact, knows or has ever known language other than 
as a product inherited from preceding generations, and one to be 
accepted as such. That is why the question of the origin of speech 
is not so important as it is generally assumed to be. The question 
is not even worth asking; the only real object of linguistics is the 
normal, regular life of an existing idiom. A particular language- 

state is always the product of historical forces, and these forces 
explain why the sign is unchangeable, i.e. why it resists any 
arbitrary substitution. 

Nothing is explained by saying that language is something 
inherited and leaving it at that. Can not existing and inherited 
laws be modified from one moment to the next? 

To meet that objection, we must put language into its social 

setting and frame the question just as we would for any other 
social institution. How are other social ingtitutions transmitted? 
This more general question includes the question of immutability. 
We must first determine the greater or lesser amounts of freedom 
that the other institutions enjoy; in each instance it will be seen 
that a different proportion exists between fixed tradition and the 
free action of society. The next step is to discover why in a given 
category, the forces of the first type carry more weight or less 
weight than those of the second. Finally, coming back to language, 

we must ask why the historical factor of transmission dominates it 
entirely and prohibits any sudden widespread change. 

There are many possible answers to the question. For example, 
one might point to the fact that succeeding generations are not 
superimposed on one another like the drawers of a piece of furni- 
ture, but fuse and interpenetrate, each generation embracing in- 
dividuals of all ages‹with the result that modifications of language 
are not tied to the succession of generations. One might also recall 

the sum of the efforts required for learning the mother language 
and conclude that a general change would be impossible. Again, 
it might be added that reflection does not enter into the active use 
of an idiom‹speakers are largely unconscious of the laws of lan- 
guage; and if they are unaware of them, how could they modify 
them? Even if they were aware of these laws, we may be sure that 
their awareness would seldom lead to criticism, for people are 
generally satisfied with the language they have received. 

The foregoing considerations are important but not topical. The 
following are more basic and direct, and all the others depend on 
them. 

1) The arbitrary nature of the sign. Above, we had to accept the 
theoretical possibility of change; further reflection suggests that 
the arbitrary nature of the sign is really what protects language 
from any attempt to modify it. Even if people were more conscious 

of language than they are, they would still not know how to discuss 
it. The reason is simply that any subject in order to be discussed 
must have a reasonable basis. It is possible, for instance, to discuss 
whether the monogamous form of marriage is more reasonable than 
the polygamous form and to advance arguments to support either 
side. One could also argue about a system of symbols, for the sym- 
bol has a rational relationship with the thing signified (see p. 68); 
but language is a system of arbitrary signs and lacks the necessary 
basis, the solid ground for discussion. There is no reason for 

preferring soeur to sister, Ochs to boeuf, etc. 

2) The multiplicity of signs necessary to form any language. 

Another important deterrent to linguistic change is the great num- 
ber of signs that must go into the making of any language. A 
system of writing comprising twenty to forty letters can in case 
of need be replaced by another system. The same would be true 
of language if it contained a limited number of elements; but 
linguistic signs are numberless. 

3) The over-complexity of the system. A language constitutes a 

system. In this one respect (as we shall see later) language is not 
completely arbitrary but is ruled to some extent by logic; it is 
here also, however, that the inability of the masses to transform 
it becomes apparcnt. The system is a complex mechanism that can 
be grasped only through reflection; the very ones who use it daily 
are ignorant of it. We can conceive of a change only through the 
intervention of specialists, grammarians, logicians, etc.; but ex- 
perience shows us that all such meddlings have failed. 

4) Collective inertia toward innovation. Language‹and this con- 
sideration surpasses all the others‹is at every moment every- 
body's concern; spread throughout society and manipulated by it, 
language is something used daily by all. Here we are unable to set 
up any comparison between it and other institutions- The pre- 
scriptions of codes, religious rites, nautical signals, etc., involve 
only a certain number of individuals simultaneously and then only 

during a limited period of time; in language, on the contrary, every- 
one participates at all times, and that is why it is constantly being 
influenced by all. This capital fact suffices to show the impossibility 
of revolution. Of all social institutions, language is least amenable 
to initiative. It blends with the life of society, and the latter, inert 
by nature, is a prime conservative force. 

But to say that language is a product of social forces does not 
suffice to show clearly that it is unfree; remembering that it is 

always the heritage of the preceding period, we must add that these 
social forces are linked with time. Language is checked not only by 
the weight of the collectivity but also by time. These two are in- 
separable. At every moment solidarity with the past checks free- 
dom of choice. We say man and dog. This does not prevent the 
existence in the total phenomenon of a bond between the two 

antithetical forces‹arbitrary convention by virtue of which choice 
is free and time which causes choice to be fixed. Because the sign 
is arbitrary, it follows no law other than that of tradition, and 
because it is based on tradition, it is arbitrary. 

2. Mutability 

Time, which insures the continuity of language, wields another 
influence apparently contradictory to the first: the more or less 

rapid change ol linguistic signs. In a certain sense, therefore, we 
can speak of both the immutability and the mutability of the sign.' 

In the last analysis, the two facts are interdependent: the sign 
is exposed to alteration because it perpetuates itself. What pre- 
dominates in all change is the persistence of the old substance; 
disregard for the past is only relative. That is why the principle 
of change is based on the principle of continuity. 

Change in time takes many forms, on any one of which an im- 
portant chapter in linguistics might be written. Without entering 
into detail, let us see what things need to be delineated. 
First, let there be no mistake about the meaning that we attach 
to the word change. One might think that it deals especially with 
phonetic changes undergone by the signifier, or perhaps changes in 
meaning which affect the signified concept. That view would be 
inadequate. Regardless of what the forces of change are, whether 

in isolation or in combination, they always result in a shift in the 
relationship between the signified and the signifer. 

Here are some examples. Latin necare 'kill' became noyer 'drown' 
in French. Both the gound-image and the concept changed; but it 

is useless to separate the two parts of the phenomenon; it is 
sufficient to state with respect to the whole that the bond between 
the idea and the sign was loosened, and that there was a shift in 
their relationship. If instead of comparing Classical Latin necare 
with French noyer, we contrast the former term with necare of 
Vulgar Latin of the fourth or fifth century meaning 'drown' the 

case is a little different; but here again; although there is no 
appreciable change in the signifier, there is a shift in the relation- 
ship between the idea and the sign.' 

Old German dritteil 'one-third' became Drittel in Modern Ger- 
man. Here, although the concept remained the same, the relation- 

ship was changed in two ways: the signifier was changed not only 
in its material aspect but also in its grammatical form; the idea of 
Teil 'part' is no longer implied; Drittel is a simple word. In one way 
or another there is always a shift in the relationship. 

In Anglo-Saxon the preliterary form fot 'foot' remained while its 

plural foti became fet (Modern English feet). Regardless of the 
other changes that are implied, one thing is certain: there was a 
shift in their relationship; other correspondenceg between the 
phonetic substance and the idea emerged. 

Language is radically powerless to defend itself against the 
forces which from one moment to the next are shifting the relation- 
ship between the signified and the signifier. This is one of the 
consequences of the arbitrary nature of the sign. 

Unlike language, other human institutions‹customs, laws, etc. 
‹are all based in varying degrees on the natural relations of things; 
all have of necessity adapted the means employed to the ends 

pursued. Even fashion in dress is not entirely arbitrary; we can 
deviate only slightly from the conditions dictated by the human 
body. Language is limited by nothing in the choice of means, for 
apparently nothing would prevent the associating of any idea 
whatsoever with just any sequence of sounds. 

To emphasize the fact that language is a genuine institution, 
Whitney quite justly insisted upon the arbitrary nature of signs; 
and by so doing, he placed linguistics on its true axis. But he did 

not follow through and see that the arbitrariness of language radi- 
cally separates it from all other institutions. This is apparent from 
the way in which language evolves. Nothing could be more com- 
plex. As it is a product of both the social force and time, no one 
can change anything in it, and on the other hand, the arbitrariness 
of its signs theoretically entails the freedom of establishing just 
any relationship between phonetic substance and ideas. The result 
is that each of the two elements united in the sign maintains its 
own life to a degree unknown elsewhere, and that language 

changes, or rather evolves, under the influence of all the forces 
which can affect either sounds or meanings. The evolution is in- 
evitable; there is no example of a single language that resists it. 
After a certain period of time, some obvious shifts can always be 
recorded. 

Mutability is so inescapable that it even holds true for artificial 
languages. Whoever creates a language controls it only so long as 
it is not in circulation; from the moment when it fulfills its mission 

and becomes the property of everyone, control is lost. Take Es- 
peranto as an example; if it succeeds, will it escape the inexorable 
law? Once launched, it is quite likely that Esperanto will enter 
upon a fully semiological life; it will be transmitted according to 
laws which have nothing in common with those of its logical cre- 
ation, and there will be no turning backwards. A man proposing 
a fixed language that posterity would have to accept for what it is 
would be like a hen hatching a duck's egg: the language created 
by him would be borne along, willy-nilly, by the current that 

engulfs all languages. 

Signs are governed by a principle of general semiology: con- 
tinuity in time is coupled to change in time; this is confirmed by 
orthographic systems, the speech of deaf-mutes, etc. 

But what supports the necessity for change? I might be re- 
proached for not having been as explicit on this point as on the 
principle of immutability. This is because I failed to distinguish 

between the different forces of change. We must consider their 
great variety in order to understand the extent to which they are 
necessary. 

The causes of continuity are a priori within the scope of the 
observer, but the causes of change in time are not. It is better not 
to attempt giving an exact account at this point, but to restrict 
discussion to the shifting of relationships in general. Time changes 

all things; there is no reason why language should escape this 
universal law. 

Let us review the main points of our discussion and relate them 
to the principles set up in the Introduction. 

1) Avoiding sterile word definitions, within the total phenome- 
non represented by speech we first singled out two parts: language 
and speaking. Language is speech less speaking. It is the whole set 

of linguistic habits which allow an individual to understand and 
to be understood. 

2) But this definition still leaves language outside its social con- 
text; it makes language something artificial since it includes only 
the individual part of reality; for the realization of language, a 
community of speakers [masse parlante] is necessary. Contrary to 
all appearances, language never exists apart from the social fact, 

for it is a semiological phenomenon. Its social nature is one of its 
inner characteristics. Its complete definition confronts us with two 
inseparable entities, as shown in this drawing:


 
 
 
<img src="saussure4.jpeg" height="0" width="0">
 

 
 
But under the conditions described language is not living--it 

has only potential life; we have considered only the social, not the 
historical, fact. 

3) The linguistic sign is arbitrary; language, as defined, would 
therefore seem to be a system which, because it depends solely on a 
rational principle, is free and can be organized at will. Its social 
nature, considered independently, does not definitely rule out this 
viewpoint. Doubtless it is not on a purely logical basis that group 
psychology operates; one must consider everything that deflects 

reason in actual contacts between individuals. But the thing which 
keeps language from being a simple convention that can be modi- 
fied at the whim of interested parties is not its social nature; it is 
rather the action of time combined with the social force. If time 
is left out, the linguistic facts are incomplete and no conclusion 
is possible. 

If we congidered language in time, without the community of 
speakers--imagine an isolated individual living for several cen- 

turies‹we probably would notice no change; time would not 
influence language. Conversely, if we considered the community 
of speakers without considering time, we would not see the effect 
of the social forces that influence language. To represent the actual 
facts, we must then add to our first drawing a sign to indicate 
passage of time: 

<img src="saussure5.jpeg" height="0" width="0">
 
 
Language is no longer free, for time will allow the social forces 

at work on it to carry out their effects. This brings us back to the 
principle of continuity, which cancels freedom. But continuity 
necessarily implies change, varying degrees of shifts in the relation 
ship between the signified and the signifier. 
 
(from Saussure's Course in
General Linguistics (Phil Library, 1966) pp. 65-78.)

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