Language Learning versus Language Acquisition

Calvin Stevens
Feb 9
7 min read

Graphic designed by the author using Canva. Original template by Studio Flare.

So, you’ve decided to learn a new language, right?

Yes, I answer.

Great! Now, what you’re going to do is buy textbooks x, y, and z, and you’re going to rigorously study from them for at least three hours a day — you know, just how you did it in school.

Ugh, but school was sooooo boring. Do I have to?

Actually, another voice chimes in, what you really need to do is simply fly out to… wait, what was it you were learning? Ah, Mandarin, right. Well, you need to fly out to China and simply immerse yourself in the language. No need for textbooks! Won’t that be fun?

I guess. But that’s more than just being thrown into the deep end. That’s chucking a baby straight into the Pacific Ocean.

Yes, well…

Look, I get it; there’s two sides to the same coin here. These two arguments are the exact type of polarizing advice I was given when trying to perform my due diligence of researching the best ways to go about learning Mandarin. And, technically speaking, both methods do have merit to them. The problem is that they’re both too extreme and, in their own ways, discourage new learners altogether.

But eventually, I came across the holy grail of advice.

During my second year at university, one afternoon, while sitting on the library lawns, I found myself in deep discourse with my one friend who was a linguistics major. One thing led to another and, having shifted the conversation from the works of Noam Chomsky, my friend introduced me to yet another linguistic theory — namely, the input hypothesis — posited by Stephen Krashen.

Up till this point, I’d never heard of Stephen Krashen and, coerced by my curiosity, I dug deeper on my own accord.

Now, I’ve written about the input hypothesis before — it truly was a game-changer for me when it came to learning a new language — but the foundation of said hypothesis is grounded upon two interlocking methods. But what are these two methods? How do they differ? And how can a new learner use them to improve their language learning?

Fear not, for I can explain…

Language learning

This is what I like to call the “traditional” method; it’s practically in the name.

Learning.

It is the method that, for the most part, will inevitably draw out a yawn from the back of the classroom. In fact, the classroom is exactly whence this method blooms. Most schools teach language in this exact manner, so if you went to school like most of the population does these days, then you’ll know the pain of learning that second language through boring textbooks, vocabulary and grammar lessons, revisions, and exams.

Completely and utterly boring, if I do say so myself. But does that mean it is entirely useless?

According to Krashen, language learning is conscious. It requires constant effort and focus from the learner; and while it does essentially slow the process and make it more clunky, it establishes an internal monitor.

Let’s take one of my above sentences to illustrate an example:

In fact, the classroom is exactly whence this method blooms.

If you’re a native English speaker like me, you probably won’t be able to tell me why, exactly, a comma is placed after the phrase “in fact.”

What is its function?

Don’t worry; I couldn’t tell you myself — it’s been a while since I was in high school. I couldn’t even begin to tell you half the grammatical rules for any of the punctuation in this article.

And yet I am a native speaker. I also know how to write (I hope). I may not be able to tell you why any of this is, but if you gave me any odd sentence, I could probably tell you if it’s right or wrong, correcting it if it is indeed the latter.

How is this possible?

It just feels right.

A second language learner who went through school, however, can probably tell you much more about the grammar and structure of these sentences than I could. They have less “feeling” and more “understanding,” so to speak.

All simply because they learned about it. Painfully so.

But as a second language learner, these “rules” and “regulations” are helpful in the sense that they allow you to identify where you might be going wrong.

Thus, if I were to speak an incorrect sentence in Mandarin, my brain would pick up on that mistake (based on my understanding of the language’s structure) and allow myself to correct it accordingly.

On the contrary, if I were to make a mistake in English, but that “feeling” simply disappeared for some reason, I would be rightfully stuck.

This is that internal monitor I mentioned earlier.

Think of it as a small police force mingling in your brain, whose job is to sound the alarm every time you say something incorrect.

Language acquisition

This second method is what Krashen calls subconscious learning. Here, the learner is essentially “acquiring” the language through environmental stimuli.

Remember that “feeling,” that intuition, you have as a native speaker?

That is a direct result of language acquisition. It helps to think of this process in terms of a small child — think back to when you were born; did your parents dump a load of textbooks in front of you and start rambling on about Oxford Commas and what have you? No, I didn’t think so.

So how did you learn to speak then?

Well, you listened to your parents, mimicked their sounds, and blurted out a string of random words until eventually, much to your parents’ enthusiasm, they began to make sense. You effectively “soaked up” your language environment.

Babies and young children do this naturally on their own. For adults, it’s a lot harder, especially when you are always comparing your second language to your native tongue. The best way I have found — and this part of Stephen Krashen’s 5 Hypotheses — is through comprehensible input.

Had you plucked me and placed me in downtown Beijing before I’d even begun speaking nĭ hǎo, I doubt I would have started acquiring the language very effectively despite supposedly being “immersed” in the environment. Instead, you’d need to slowly feed me tidbits of input that I can understand; and from there, I would be able to build a basis for my input-output processes.

Some of the best materials and resources for starting out (in any language) with comprehensible input are thus, unironically, children’s entertainment. From TV shows, games, books, and comics, there’s a reason kids are so darn good at soaking up a new language.

What’s more is that this method is often far more entertaining, especially once you get past that early starting block; to make learning a language easier, your brain needs to associate it with something fun.

And what can be better than just watching your favorite dramas, sports, or movies in your target language?

Combining “learning” and “acquisition”

Krashen’s theory is named the acquisition-learning hypothesis for a reason: as second language learners, we need to utilize both.

I am of the opinion that — and perhaps my bias is less subtle than I think it is — the acquisition part of the theory is most critical, especially if you seek fluency. For me, it is the primary focus of most of my learning, and I find it much more enjoyable than the learning aspect; so, in a sense, it motivates me.

But I won’t deny that it is also important to learn all the rules, structures, and grammar.

So, allow me to make a proposal.

When it comes to combining the two, I suggest invoking an 80–20 rule (and no, not the one you all probably know about).

What I mean is, simply, 80% of your learning should comprise acquisition principles while the other 20% learning principles. Of course, everyone is going to be different — maybe there are some people out there who get satisfaction out of learning grammar, etc. So take my advice with a grain of salt. But if you’re like me, these are some possible changes you can make to your studying routine:

Focus more on the overall message than precise meaning. If, for example, you are listening to audio recordings or reading a particular passage, the point is not necessarily to understand every word; the point should actually be to see if you understand the material at all. Concerning yourself with every word will make the process slow and painful; if you understand what is roughly being communicated, however, your brain will start automatically filling in the gaps. Plus, this way allows you to feel more accomplished without getting stuck on the nitty-gritty.
Priorities, at least initially, input over output. I know speaking is important, and I know it is, for some, the hardest part — trust me, it’s my biggest struggle too — but if you’re just starting out, it will be significantly harder for you to start speaking without having heard anything. Again, think of babies. Comprehensible input is the way to go.
Minimize explicit grammar learning. Don’t bother trying to cram-study a textbook full of rules. That’s utterly boring and, frankly, unhelpful. But also don’t skip out on grammar. The key here is to learn grammar as you go along. Continue with your routine and only learn a specific grammar rule should it come up. If you are learning English and come across, say, an apostrophe, then take a minute to understand the rules; but don’t sit down with the intention of performing a full lesson purely on grammar.

Needless to say, each of us is going to have a different experience and a different journey through the world of languages. What might work for me might not work for another. There is no right or wrong way; that’s part of the fun.

The important thing is that we each tailor our own learning methods to best suit ourselves.

Go out there and make language learning fun!

After all, life is simply too short for the mundane.