Michael Hahn, a linguist based in Saarbrücken, Germany, alongside Richard Futrell from the University of California, Irvine, embarked on an ambitious quest to unravel this linguistic mystery. Their collaborative efforts culminated in the development of a sophisticated model that elegantly explains the underlying architecture and operational principles of human language. Their groundbreaking research, which challenges conventional notions of communication efficiency, was recently peer-reviewed and published in the prestigious journal Nature Human Behaviour, marking a significant contribution to the fields of linguistics and cognitive science. The study provides a fresh perspective on how language evolved not merely to transmit data, but to do so in a manner that is maximally usable and least taxing for the human mind, deeply integrating with our lived experiences and cognitive architecture.
Human Language and the Efficiency Conundrum
The sheer diversity of human language is staggering. Globally, approximately 7,000 distinct languages are spoken, each a unique tapestry of sounds, grammar, and cultural nuances. While some, like the Indigenous languages of remote communities, are spoken by only a handful of individuals, others such as Mandarin Chinese, English, Spanish, and Hindi serve as primary communication tools for billions. Despite their vast structural and phonetic differences—from tonal languages where pitch dictates meaning, to agglutinative languages that combine multiple morphemes into single words, to analytical languages that rely heavily on word order—all languages share a singular, foundational purpose: to communicate meaning. They achieve this by systematically combining discrete units (words) into larger, more complex units (phrases), which are then arranged into coherent sentences. Each hierarchical level contributes its own layer of meaning, culminating in the transmission of a clear, comprehensive message.
"This is actually a very complex structure," explains Michael Hahn, highlighting the intricate layers of rules and patterns inherent in human communication. He points out a fundamental challenge to biological efficiency: "Since the natural world tends towards maximizing efficiency and conserving resources, it’s perfectly reasonable to ask why the brain encodes linguistic information in such an apparently complicated way instead of digitally, like a computer." From a purely information-theoretic perspective, where the goal is to transmit the maximum amount of information using the fewest possible bits, encoding speech as binary sequences of ones and zeros would indeed be more efficient. Such a system would compress information to its absolute minimum, eliminating all redundancy. This raises the intriguing question: if maximal compression is the ideal, why do humans not communicate with the minimalist precision of a machine, perhaps like the iconic droid R2-D2 from Star Wars? Hahn and Futrell propose that the answer lies not in an oversight of evolutionary design, but in a deeper understanding of what constitutes true efficiency for a biological system like the human brain.
Language Grounded in Real-World Experience
The core of Hahn and Futrell’s argument posits that human language is not an abstract, disembodied code, but rather a system profoundly "shaped by the realities of life around us." This concept aligns with theories of embodied cognition, which suggest that our thoughts and language are deeply intertwined with our physical experiences and sensory interactions with the world. Language, in this view, is not merely a tool for conveying abstract symbols but for referring to concrete, shared experiences and concepts.
Hahn illustrates this principle vividly: "If, for instance, I was to talk about half a cat paired with half a dog and I referred to this using the abstract term ‘gol’, nobody would know what I meant, as it’s pretty certain that no one has seen a gol—it simply does not reflect anyone’s lived experience." The term "gol" fails because it lacks a referent in shared human experience. It has no corresponding mental model or sensory input that listeners can latch onto. Such an arbitrary, ungrounded term would require immense cognitive effort to define and recall, making it an impractical unit of communication.
He further elaborates on the importance of meaningful structure: "Equally, it makes no sense to blend the words ‘cat’ and ‘dog’ into a string of characters that uses the same letters but is impossible to interpret." A scrambled form such as "gadcot," while technically containing the letters from both "cat" and "dog," is utterly meaningless to listeners. It violates the established phonological and morphological rules of English, preventing the brain from accessing pre-existing semantic networks. By stark contrast, the phrase "cat and dog" is instantly comprehensible. Both "cat" and "dog" are familiar concepts, deeply embedded in our collective experience and knowledge base. The phrase works precisely because it connects directly to shared knowledge, lived experience, and established conceptual categories. Human language, therefore, is not about arbitrary strings of symbols; it’s about symbols that resonate with our internal models of the world, built from decades of interaction and observation.
The Brain’s Preference for Familiar Patterns and Cognitive Ease
Hahn succinctly summarizes the profound implications of their findings: "Put simply, it’s easier for our brain to take what might seem to be the more complicated route." This seemingly counterintuitive statement lies at the heart of their discovery. While natural language might appear structurally more complex than a binary code, its design is optimized for the human brain’s processing capabilities, not for maximal information compression. This optimization manifests as a significant reduction in cognitive load—the mental effort required to process information.
Although natural language incorporates a degree of redundancy and structural complexity, it places far less strain on the brain. This is because the brain doesn’t process words in isolation; it processes them in constant interaction with the vast repository of knowledge we already possess about the world. This includes semantic memory (facts and concepts), episodic memory (personal experiences), and our general understanding of how the world works. When we encounter language, our brains actively integrate new input with this existing knowledge, making interpretation a highly efficient, context-driven process.
A purely digital code, while theoretically transmitting information faster in terms of raw bits, would be entirely detached from everyday experience. It would require the brain to build meaning from scratch, without the aid of familiar patterns or pre-existing conceptual frameworks. Hahn offers an insightful analogy to clarify this: "On our usual commute, the route is so familiar to us that the drive is almost like on autopilot. Our brain knows exactly what to expect, so the effort it needs to make is much lower. Taking a shorter but less familiar route feels much more tiring, as the new route demands that we be far more attentive during the drive." In the context of language, the "familiar route" is natural language, leveraging deeply ingrained neural pathways and predictive mechanisms. The "shorter but less familiar route" would be a digital code, demanding constant, conscious decoding effort.
From a mathematical perspective, Hahn adds, "The number of bits the brain needs to process is far smaller when we speak in familiar, natural ways." This isn’t referring to the absolute number of bits in the signal itself, but rather the effective cognitive bits the brain must actively compute. Redundancy in natural language, paradoxically, reduces cognitive load by providing multiple cues and allowing the brain to make highly accurate predictions, thereby requiring less novel computation. Speaking and understanding binary code would necessitate immense mental effort from both the speaker, who would have to encode every nuance into an abstract sequence, and the listener, who would have to painstakingly decode it without the benefit of context, familiarity, or shared experience. Instead, the human brain operates as a sophisticated prediction engine, constantly estimating the likelihood of certain words, phrases, and grammatical structures appearing next. Because we engage with our native language daily, often for decades, these patterns become deeply embedded in our neural networks, making communication remarkably smooth, intuitive, and cognitively undemanding.
How Predictive Processing Shapes Speech
The brain’s reliance on predictive processing is a cornerstone of efficient human communication. This mechanism allows us to anticipate incoming information, reducing the surprise factor and the cognitive resources needed for processing. Hahn provides a clear illustration using German: "When I say the German phrase ‘Die fünf grünen Autos’ (Engl.: ‘the five green cars’), the phrase will almost certainly make sense to another German speaker, whereas ‘Grünen fünf die Autos’ (Engl.: ‘green five the cars’) won’t," he says. This example perfectly demonstrates how language structure facilitates prediction.
When a German speaker hears "Die fünf grünen Autos," the brain immediately begins a dynamic process of interpreting meaning and narrowing down possibilities. The very first word, "Die," is a definite article that signals specific grammatical possibilities. In German, "Die" can indicate feminine singular, or plural for any gender in the nominative or accusative case. A German listener can instantly narrow the options, ruling out masculine or neuter singular nouns. The next word, "fünf" (five), is a numeral that suggests something countable, further restricting the semantic field and excluding abstract ideas such as "love" or "thirst." Then "grünen" (green), an adjective with an inflectional ending, indicates that the noun to follow will be plural and refers to something green in color. At this point, the object could be cars, bananas, frogs, or any other green, countable plural noun. Only when the final word, "Autos" (cars), is spoken does the meaning fully settle into place, confirming and completing the listener’s predictions. With each successive word, the brain iteratively reduces uncertainty, operating like a sophisticated probabilistic parser, until only one coherent interpretation remains. This sequential unfolding of meaning, guided by grammatical cues and semantic probabilities, minimizes the cognitive effort required to build a complete understanding.
In stark contrast, the sequence "Grünen fünf die Autos" severely disrupts this predictable pattern. The expected grammatical signals appear in the wrong order, violating the established syntactic rules of German. The brain struggles to build meaning from such a disordered sequence because it cannot easily make predictions or connect the words to familiar grammatical frames. This leads to a higher "prediction error," forcing the brain to expend significantly more effort to re-evaluate and re-parse the input, often failing to construct a coherent meaning at all. This highlights that it’s not just the words themselves, but their order and structure that are crucial for efficient processing.
Implications for AI and Language Models
Hahn and Futrell’s work is not merely theoretical; they were able to demonstrate these intricate patterns mathematically, providing robust empirical support for their hypotheses. Their findings, as published in Nature Human Behaviour, conclusively show that human language prioritizes reducing cognitive load over maximizing information compression. This is a crucial distinction that offers profound insights into the fundamental design principles of human communication.
These insights hold significant implications, particularly for the burgeoning field of artificial intelligence and the development of large language models (LLMs). LLMs, such as OpenAI’s ChatGPT or Microsoft’s Copilot, have revolutionized how we interact with AI, capable of generating human-like text, translating languages, and answering complex queries. However, while these models excel at statistical pattern recognition and predicting the next most probable word, they often lack a true, grounded understanding of the world or the cognitive mechanisms that underpin human comprehension. They operate on vast datasets of text, learning the statistical regularities of language, but do not necessarily process information in the same cognitive-economical way humans do.
By better understanding how the human brain processes language—specifically, its preference for familiar patterns, predictive coding, and the grounding of meaning in real-world experience—researchers could design AI systems that align more closely with natural communication patterns. This could lead to several improvements:
- More Human-Like Interaction: AI could be designed to generate responses that are not just grammatically correct but also cognitively easier for humans to process, reducing user fatigue and enhancing naturalness.
- Enhanced Robustness: By incorporating principles of human predictive processing, AI models might become more robust to unexpected or slightly anomalous inputs, similar to how human brains can still infer meaning even from imperfect speech.
- Improved Grounding: Future LLMs could be developed with better mechanisms for "grounding" their language in simulated or real-world experiences, moving beyond purely statistical associations to a more human-like conceptual understanding.
- Optimized Learning: Understanding the brain’s "cognitive load preference" could inform new architectures for AI that learn language more efficiently by prioritizing high-utility, context-rich information, rather than merely ingesting massive quantities of data.
In essence, Hahn and Futrell’s research serves as a powerful reminder that human language, far from being an inefficient system, is exquisitely tailored to the specific needs and capabilities of the human brain. It’s a testament to evolutionary pressures that shaped a communication system balancing the efficient transmission of meaning with the critical need for cognitive ease, deeply embedding it in our shared experiences and leveraging our innate capacity for prediction. This work opens new avenues for understanding the intricate dance between language, cognition, and the world, and offers a blueprint for building future AI systems that speak not just like humans, but truly for humans.

