How do you say 'dead language' in Gaelic?

BY the time you read this, the massed tanks of Venezuelan President Hugo Chavez might have stirred up a large stew with neighbouring Colombia.

President Chavez is irked that the Colombian army stole into Ecuador and killed a revolutionary leader. Chavez believes that the Colombian government is but a puppet of the United States. The domination of Latin America by the US is also the threat that has caused President Chavez to issue a death sentence on the English language itself.

His point is that cultural imperialism takes many forms and must be fought on all fronts, including stopping Spanish-speakers using such terms as "marketing", "password" and "mouse" and getting everyone to use the Spanish equivalents of "mercadeo", "contrasena" and "raton".

This issue is something that should concern us also. For too long we have been forced to say things like "Where is my sombrero?" rather than "Where is my large, round, hat made of straw"? And only the other day – when I wanted to ask someone to join in my hand-and-arms based pelvic dance, I was forced to ask whether they wished instead to do the Macarena. Such is the Spanish language dictatorship we find ourselves living under. And don't get me started on paella.

Politicians seeking to control things that irk them is not new. What is remarkable is the ability of anyone to believe that something as free-flowing and organic as language can be controlled as easily as one controls a hairdryer. In both cases there is a lot of hot air and little else of practical use.

Languages have always evolved as the users ultimately wish – that is why we have interesting originally non-English terms such as anorak, pyjamas and slalom. It also allows us to create words like grisbee and the verb "to google". The internet is good at accelerating the use of words of common currency; it's notable that many of the apparent targets of Hugo Chavez are associated with communication technology.

The important point for all of us is that all attempts to control how language develops and is used are – ultimately – doomed. This affects us in Scotland because of the ongoing policy of providing support for Gaelic language. As of the 2001 UK Census, fully – and only – 58,652 people in Scotland speak Gaelic and there are no unilingual speakers – people who only speak Gaelic. Even in 1755 – when Scotland had a population of 1,265,830, only 289,798 spoke Gaelic. If it was ever "Scotland's language" it has not been for a long, long time. Lowland Scots has a bigger claim.

Each year, a lot of money is spent making radio and television programmes and supporting the education of a quaint, effectively historical language for some sort of cultural reason. When was the last time you regretted a language not being available? Every now and then, somewhere on the planet the last-native speaker of an obscure language shuffles off the coil and the truth is that but for linguists and manufacturers of "Bathrooms This Way" signs, it doesn't affect us much.

If having different languages is so culturally important, why isn't someone inventing them? The answer is that we don't need to invent languages any more than we need to control their evolutions – and deaths. The amount we spend on Gaelic is not enough to ensure its survival nor is it so little as to be trivial. Hugo Chavez will learn like everyone else that making a cat walk backwards is easier than controlling language. And the – possibly sad but not necessarily – truth is that the same is true when it comes to keeping Gaelic on life support.

Art of the matter
Good news that the National Galleries of Scotland have – with the Tate – managed to get a bargain on the modern art front. A collection worth apparently £125 million has been secured for a mere £26.6m. Hopefully it's a good collection. Because impressive as it is to see a "bargain" being got, what should matter more is the content of that being bought.

We should have confidence that all NGS purchases are appropriate – in all senses. I have a friend whose home is filled with bargains he got at unbelievable prices – a coherent collection it is not. So while applauding the alleged coup, let's remind ourselves that we should be able to trust in the judgement of our national curators and not be seeking always to make them justify purchases on the basis that it was terrific price.

Bridge brush-off
Bad news that the painting process is to stop on the Forth Bridge. The idea that it is constantly being painted is part of international folklore and a valuable, more-or-less free bit of tourist marketing.

So let's keep at least one wee bloke at work on the magnificent edifice. For the price of a weekly visit to B&Q, it's a paint job worth preserving.