Tag: Chinese Braille

Categories
Culture History Language Learning Science

Pīnyīn

Pīnyīn+ (Pīn·yīn {Piecing Together of} · Sounds → [Pinyin] 拼音) 👈🏼 Tap/click to show/hide the “flashcard”

[To accompany last week’s repost on “Zhùyīn (Zhù·yīn {Annotating of} · Sounds → [Zhuyin] 注音 註/注音)”, here is a repost of the MEotW post on “Pīnyīn (Pīn·yīn {Piecing Together of} · Sounds → [Pinyin] 拼音)”.]

“Pīnyīn (Pīn·yīn {Piecing Together of} · Sounds → [Pinyin] 拼音)” is the expression commonly used to refer to the phonetic alphabet introduced by China in 1958. This system is also known by longer, more official names:

  • Hànyǔ (Hàn·yǔ {Han (Chinese)} · Language → [(Modern Standard) Mandarin] 汉语 漢語) Pīnyīn (Pīn·yīn {Piecing Together of} · Sounds → [Pinyin] 拼音)
  • Hànyǔ (Hàn·yǔ {Han (Chinese)} · Language → [(Modern Standard) Mandarin] 汉语 漢語) Pīnyīn (Pīn·yīn {Piecing Together of} · Sounds → [Pinyin] 拼音) Fāng’àn+ (Fāng’·àn {Direction → [Method]} · {Long, Narrow Table or Desk → [Plan]} 方案)

When thinking of Pīnyīn (Pīn·yīn {Piecing Together of} · Sounds → [Pinyin] 拼音) and its predecessor Zhùyīn (Zhù·yīn Annotating · Sounds → [Zhuyin] 注音 註/注音) (last week’s MEotW), some focus on the superficial differences between them. However, it’s perhaps even more important to note what they have in common, as indicated by the fact that the names of both systems end in “yīn+ (sound [→ [musical note/sound; tone; pronunciation | syllable | news; tidings]] 音)”: Both systems focus on representing the sounds of Mandarin, sounds which make up Mandarin speech and thus represent meanings. In fact, Pīnyīn (Pīn·yīn {Piecing Together of} · Sounds → [Pinyin] 拼音)’s literal meaning tells us that this system helps people to “piece together sounds” to make up Mandarin speech, and thus convey the meanings that Mandarin speech represents.

汉字 / 漢字? Pīnyīn?

In contrast, many people believe that the Hànzì+ (Hàn·zì {Han (Chinese)} · Characters 汉字 漢字), the Chinese characters, represent meanings more directly through their own visual design, as opposed to primarily being a system that represents Mandarin, Cantonese, etc., speech sounds which represent meaning. This view of Chinese characters, however, is actually a myth, which has been called the ideographic myth—God designed our brains and bodies to primarily represent meaning through speech, some humans in their hubris presumed that it would be better for us humans to represent meaning directly through visual symbols, and of course God was right and these humans were wrong.

There are actually many myths and misconceptions that people believe regarding Chinese characters, and sadly, that is also the case regarding Pīnyīn (Pīn·yīn {Piecing Together of} · Sounds → [Pinyin] 拼音).

Common Myths and Misconceptions

  • “Pīnyīn (Pīn·yīn {Piecing Together of} · Sounds → [Pinyin] 拼音) is just a pronunciation aid. It’s not really a writing system like the characters are.”

    • But, is Pīnyīn even really a writing system? Interestingly, the Chinese national standard Zhōngguó Mángwén (中国盲文/中國盲文, Chinese Braille) is basically a transliteration or conversion of Pīnyīn into braille letters. Braille is obviously a writing system, so Pīnyīn must also be a writing system, not just a pronunciation aid.

  • “Pīnyīn (Pīn·yīn {Piecing Together of} · Sounds → [Pinyin] 拼音) is just training wheels. Characters are real wheels.”

    • Since Pīnyīn is not just a pronunciation aid, but a full writing system, it is not “training wheels”—it’s regular wheels. On the other hand, Chinese characters are like non-round wheels—more difficult than necessary.

  • “Pīnyīn (Pīn·yīn {Piecing Together of} · Sounds → [Pinyin] 拼音) on its own can’t be understood because there are too many homophones (words that sound the same, but have different meanings) in Mandarin.”

    • When people are just speaking Mandarin, with no characters in sight to help them, do they have problems understanding each other because of all the homophones? Can blind Mandarin-speakers, who cannot see characters, still “see” what people mean when those people speak Mandarin? Native Mandarin-speakers have confirmed to me that no, homophones are not a significant problem in spoken Mandarin—people can use the context and understand each other okay. So, people can use the context and understand each other okay when using Pīnyīn too, since Pīnyīn directly represents the sound of spoken Mandarin.

      • The above quote is from the article “Pīnyīn Was Plan A”. Check it out for more on this subject.

  • “Pīnyīn (Pīn·yīn {Piecing Together of} · Sounds → [Pinyin] 拼音) is less accurate than Zhùyīn (Zhù·yīn Annotating · Sounds → [Zhuyin] 注音 註/注音).”

    • Some people say that Zhuyin is more accurate or correct than Pinyin. Actually, both Zhuyin and Pinyin represent the same Mandarin sounds, just with different symbols. In fact, it’s not difficult to find tables that directly map the corresponding Zhuyin and Pinyin expressions to each other—a simple Google search for “pinyin zhuyin table” turns up many, many results. Pinyin and Zhuyin are just like different codes for encoding the same Mandarin message, so basically, neither is more accurate or correct than the other.

      • The above quote is from the tiandi.info post “Pinyin and Zhuyin”. (If you need login information for the parts of tiandi.info that require it, request it by email, and include information on who referred you and/or what group/cong. you are in.)
  • “Pīnyīn (Pīn·yīn {Piecing Together of} · Sounds → [Pinyin] 拼音) makes your Mandarin sound like English.”
    • This is only true if you are using it wrong. For example, if you read a French word and you make it sound like English when you read it out, the problem is not that the French word is written using the Latin alphabet like English is—the problem is that you are thinking of English sounds when you see the French word, when you should be thinking of French sounds. Similarly, you shouldn’t blame Pīnyīn (Pīn·yīn {Piecing Together of} · Sounds → [Pinyin] 拼音) if you are thinking of English sounds when you see it, because it’s up to you to understand that Pīnyīn (Pīn·yīn {Piecing Together of} · Sounds → [Pinyin] 拼音) represents Mandarin sounds, not English sounds.
    • Don’t worry, it becomes second nature to properly associate Pīnyīn (Pīn·yīn {Piecing Together of} · Sounds → [Pinyin] 拼音) with Mandarin sounds after you get familiar with Mandarin sounds and used to the Pīnyīn (Pīn·yīn {Piecing Together of} · Sounds → [Pinyin] 拼音) system. However, if you, say, prematurely stop using Pīnyīn (Pīn·yīn {Piecing Together of} · Sounds → [Pinyin] 拼音) and instead turn to characters in an effort to avoid the baggage of English sounds, you may actually never really get the hang of Mandarin sounds. Seriously, I’ve seen people who focus on characters remain in this speech Twilight Zone for years and years! That’s because while characters do represent Mandarin speech sounds, they’re just bad at it—it’s just not what characters focus on. In stark contrast, Pīnyīn (Pīn·yīn {Piecing Together of} · Sounds → [Pinyin] 拼音) is all about the sounds of Mandarin. It literally spells out in a simple way how a Mandarin syllable sounds at the beginning, at the end, and in between. Characters, though, represent the complex sound of a Mandarin syllable as one coarse lump, in a complex and often unrelated way—you either get it or you don’t, and many don’t.
      • Yes, characters are like a conceited jerk who convinces you with grand promises to jump from a high place, doesn’t bother to catch you, and then makes you think it’s your fault that you can’t fly. Pīnyīn (Pīn·yīn {Piecing Together of} · Sounds → [Pinyin] 拼音), though, is like a modest and straightforward person who clearly explains each step for you so that you can dependably and confidently get to where you want to go.

For more information regarding Pīnyīn (Pīn·yīn {Piecing Together of} · Sounds → [Pinyin] 拼音) and how we in the Mandarin field should view it, check out these articles:

“Pīnyīn is a Good, Workable Writing System On Its Own”
This article is a brief overview of why it’s important for those of us in the Mandarin field to recognize that Pīnyīn (Pīn·yīn {Piecing Together of} · Sounds → [Pinyin] 拼音) is a full writing system, not just a pronunciation aid.

“Pīnyīn Was Plan A”
This extensively researched in-depth article discusses how we in the Mandarin field should view Pīnyīn (Pīn·yīn {Piecing Together of} · Sounds → [Pinyin] 拼音).

(Short link: tiandi.info/articles)

Categories
Culture Experiences Language Learning Technology Theocratic

mángwén

mángwén+ (máng·wén blind · writing → [braille] 盲文) 👈🏼 Tap/click to show/hide the “flashcard”

Recently, jw.org featured the video “ ‘Without It, I Would Feel Lost’ ”, which, as its description says, is about “the experience of a blind man who has benefited from having the Bible in braille”. Where the English description of this video uses the word “braille”, the Mandarin description uses this week’s MEotW, “mángwén+ (máng·wén blind · writing → [braille] 盲文)”. And yes, as the existence of this Mandarin expression suggests, Chinese Braille (Zhōngguó (Zhōng·guó Central · Nation → [Chinese] 中国 中國) Mángwén (Máng·wén Blind · Writing → [Braille] 盲文)) does indeed exist.

Braille in the Land of Characters

But, one may ask, how does braille, with just a limited number of raised dots, work for Mandarin Chinese when thousands and thousands of Chinese characters are usually used to write this language? The post “How Chinese Braille works”, on the blog The Language Closet, discusses this question:

There is one system that intrigues me. one that, [sic] seems a little too big for what braille is able to handle.

You see…, one braille cell contains 6 dots. Including the space, which consists of zero raised dots, there are only 64 possible combinations that can be formed per braille cell. But yet, it is this same system that could represent the entirety of the Mandarin Chinese language to provide accessibility to the blind users. How does it do that? After all, Chinese as we know it is written with thousands upon thousands of characters, each with their own meaning.

To get around this problem of representing thousands of characters in braille, we would have to ditch the concept of the character, and to focus on the structure of the Chinese syllable. Chinese is fairly restricted in its syllable structure, with syllables having a (CG)V(X)T structure, where C is the initial consonant, G is the glide, V is the vowel, X is the coda, and T is one of the four tones, or a neutral tone for weak syllables. So in the hanyu pinyin, the syllable zhuāng can be split into zh + u + a + ng + tone 1. After factoring in tone, there are around 1300 possible syllables, although Mandarin Chinese uses way less than that.

In Mandarin Chinese, there are only 21 possible consonant initials, which are, in hanyu pinyin,

b, p, m, f, d, t, n, l, g, j, k, q, h, x, zh, ch, sh, r, z, c, and s.

Furthermore, with a limited number of final combinations, that is, combining glides, vowels, and codas, every single combination of Chinese initials and finals could be represented in braille.

So, Chinese Braille does NOT work by trying to shoehorn a Chinese characters writing system into braille—even the Simplified one just wouldn’t fit. Instead, the approach taken was to “ditch the concept of the character, and to focus on the structure of the Chinese syllable”, a basic unit of Mandarin speech. Instead of being based on a Chinese characters writing system, with its thousands and thousands of inconsistent, haphazardly designed symbols, Chinese Braille is based on Pīnyīn (Pīn·yīn {Piecing Together of} · Sounds → [Pinyin] 拼音), which consistently and elegantly represents any and all Modern Standard Mandarin speech with a reasonable number of symbols.

As the article “Pīnyīn (Pīn·yīn {Piecing Together of} · Sounds → [Pinyin] 拼音) Is a Good, Workable Writing System on Its Own” says:

But, is Pīnyīn even really a writing system? Interestingly, the Chinese national standard Zhōngguó Mángwén (中国盲文/中國盲文, Chinese Braille) is basically a transliteration or conversion of Pīnyīn into braille letters.

From this fact, we can logically draw the following conclusion, as stated in the above-mentioned article:

Braille is obviously a writing system, so Pīnyīn must also be a writing system (see p. 9), not just a pronunciation aid.

But, What About Homophones?!

One of the primary objections raised to the idea of using Pīnyīn (Pīn·yīn {Piecing Together of} · Sounds → [Pinyin] 拼音) as a writing system, and not just as a pronunciation aid, is that there are supposedly so many homophones (different words that sound the same) in Mandarin that characters are required to disambiguate them, otherwise there would be mass confusion. However, users of Chinese Braille, which is based on Pīnyīn (Pīn·yīn {Piecing Together of} · Sounds → [Pinyin] 拼音), seem to be doing just fine, along with the billion or so people who regularly speak Mandarin without constantly showing each other the Chinese characters that are supposedly required to distinguish homophones from one another.

For more information about Pīnyīn (Pīn·yīn {Piecing Together of} · Sounds → [Pinyin] 拼音) and homophones, see the subheading “But There Are So Many Words That Sound the Same!” in the article “Pīnyīn (Pīn·yīn {Piecing Together of} · Sounds → [Pinyin] 拼音) Was Plan A”. For those saying “tl;dr”, here is a bit of material from the conclusion of that section of the article:

The ultimate clarifier in modern Mandarin, even with all its existing homophones, is context, not characters. Characters themselves can have multiple possible meanings and multiple possible pronunciations, so one often has to, yes, check the context of something written in characters before the meaning and/or pronunciation of certain words in it can be determined with certainty.…

…That there are so many different words in modern Mandarin that sound the same is not a good reason not to use Pīnyīn, any more than it is a good reason not to speak Mandarin. Ironically, it is actually a good long-term reason not to use characters!

So, rather than being a real, valid reason not to use Pīnyīn (Pīn·yīn {Piecing Together of} · Sounds → [Pinyin] 拼音) as an actual writing system for Mandarin, the objection that characters are required to cope with Mandarin’s homophones is really just copium (“cope”+“opium”) for those who fear that all the blood, sweat, and tears they have invested into trying to learn and remember characters will be made irrelevant. (Such ones shouldn’t really fear, though—the world is and will continue to be awash in Chinese characters, so knowledge of characters will continue to have some value, probably right up until the end of this system of things.) The truth, for those who are willing to face it, is that Pīnyīn (Pīn·yīn {Piecing Together of} · Sounds → [Pinyin] 拼音) is just as real and workable a writing system for Mandarin as is Chinese Braille, which is based on Pīnyīn (Pīn·yīn {Piecing Together of} · Sounds → [Pinyin] 拼音).

Categories
Culture History Language Learning Names Science Technology

Yànwén

Yànwén+ (Yàn·wén {Proverb (Korean: Vernacular)} · Writing → [Hangul/Hankul (modern Korean writing system)] 谚文 諺文) ← Tap/click to show/hide the “flashcard”

This week’s MEotW is “Yànwén (Yàn·wén {Proverb (Korean: Vernacular)} · Writing → [Hangul/Hankul (modern Korean writing system)] 谚文 諺文)”, which seems to be the most commonly used Mandarin expression referring to the modern Korean writing system. In English, we refer to this writing system as “Hangul” or “Hankul”, depending on which romanization system we prefer.

The Korean text “Joseongeul” and “Hangeul,” written in Hangul, the native Korean script.

The Korean text “Joseongeul” and “Hangeul,” written in Hangul, the native Korean script. [source]
Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike License logo metalslick

“…By Any Other Name”

One of the first things I noticed while researching this topic is that Korean, English, and Mandarin each have multiple names for the modern Korean writing system. Here is Wikipedia’s summary of its names in Korean and in English:

Official names

The Korean alphabet was originally named Hunminjeong’eum (훈민정음) by King Sejong the Great in 1443.[source] Hunminjeong’eum (훈민정음) is also the document that explained logic and science behind the script in 1446.

The name hangeul (한글) was coined by Korean linguist Ju Si-gyeong in 1912. The name combines the ancient Korean word han (한), meaning great, and geul (글), meaning script. The word han is used to refer to Korea in general, so the name also means Korean script.[source] It has been romanized in multiple ways:

  • Hangeul or han-geul in the Revised Romanization of Korean, which the South Korean government uses in English publications and encourages for all purposes.
  • Han’gŭl in the McCune–Reischauer system, is often capitalized and rendered without the diacritics when used as an English word, Hangul, as it appears in many English dictionaries.
  • hān kul in the Yale romanization, a system recommended for technical linguistic studies.

North Koreans call the alphabet Chosŏn’gŭl (조선글), after Chosŏn, the North Korean name for Korea.[source] A variant of the McCune–Reischauer system is used there for romanization.

Other names

Until the mid-20th century, the Korean elite preferred to write using Chinese characters called Hanja. They referred to Hanja as jinseo (진서/真書) meaning true letters. Some accounts say the elite referred to the Korean alphabet derisively as ‘amkeul (암클) meaning women’s script, and ‘ahaetgeul (아햇글) meaning children’s script, though there is no written evidence of this.[source]

Supporters of the Korean alphabet referred to it as jeong’eum (정음/正音) meaning correct pronunciation, gungmun (국문/國文) meaning national script, and eonmun (언문/諺文) meaning vernacular script.[source]

In addition to all the above, some dictionaries, including the ABC Chinese-English Dictionary, use the English name “onmun” to refer to the modern Korean writing system. This is apparently derived from the Korean name “eonmun (언문/諺文)”, mentioned in the last paragraph of the above quote. Speaking of “eonmun (언문/諺文)”, the Chinese characters used to write it are the same as the Traditional characters used to write this week’s MEotW “Yànwén+ (Yàn·wén {Proverb (Korean: Vernacular)} · Writing → [Hangul/Hankul (modern Korean writing system)] 谚文 諺文)”, indicating that this is where this Mandarin expression came from.

Speaking of “Yànwén (Yàn·wén {Proverb (Korean: Vernacular)} · Writing → [Hangul/Hankul (modern Korean writing system)] 谚文 諺文)”, as mentioned at the beginning of this post, this seems to be the expression most commonly used in Mandarin to mean “Hangul”—it is, for example, the main expression used to refer to Hangul in the Mandarin version of an Awake! article about Hangul. Also used in that Mandarin version of that Awake! article—once—to refer to Hangul is the expression “Hánwén+ (Hán·wén Korean · Writing → [Hangul/Hankul (modern Korean writing system)] 韩文 韓文)”. Another Mandarin expression referring to the modern Korean writing system is “Cháoxiǎn Zìmǔ+ ((Cháo·xiǎn {Royal/Imperial Court [→ [Dynasty]]} · Rare → [North Korea | Chosŏn (Tw pron.: Cháoxiān)] 朝鲜 朝鮮) (Zì·mǔ Word · Mothers → [Letters (of an Alphabet) [→ [Alphabet]]] 字母) → [Hangul/Hankul (modern Korean writing system) (name used in North Korea)])”, which corresponds to the Korean expression “Chosŏn’gŭl (조선글)”, mentioned above. (“Cháoxiǎn (Cháo·xiǎn {Royal/Imperial Court [→ [Dynasty]]} · Rare → [North Korea | Chosŏn; [Great] Joseon [State] (Tw pron.: Cháoxiān)] 朝鲜 朝鮮)” corresponds to “Chosŏn”, the Korean name for North Korea—these two expressions are in fact written with the same Chinese characters.)

An Exceptionally Phonetic Writing System

In the linguistics podcast Lingthusiasm, in the episode entitled “Writing is a Technology”, linguist Gretchen McCulloch said the following about Hangul:

“But Korean’s really cool.” The thing that’s cool about it from a completely biased linguist perspective is that the writing system of Korean, Hangul, the script, is not just based on individual sounds or phonemes, it’s actually at a more precise level based on the shape of the mouth and how you configure the mouth in order to make those particular sounds. There’s a lot of, okay, here are these closely related sounds – let’s say you make them all with the lips – and you just add an additional stroke to make it this other related sound that you make with the lips. Between P and B and M, which are all made with the lips, those symbols have a similar shape. It’s not an accident. It’s very systematic between that and the same thing with T and D and N. Those have a similar shape because they have this relationship. It’s very technically beautiful from an analysis of language perspective.

[Note that the above quote alludes to the featural aspect of Hangul. The term “featural” refers to distinctive features, which are components of speech such as nasality, aspiration, voicing, place of articulation, etc. which are subphonemic, that is, below the level of phonemes. In his book Visible Speech: The Diverse Oneness of Writing Systems, pp. 196–198, John DeFrancis concludes that while Hangul has a featural aspect, and while it is an ingenious system of phonemic representation, it is not a featural writing system.]

Regarding how precisely Hangul represents the sounds of Korean speech, the above-mentioned Awake! article says:

In Korean schools there are no spelling contests! Why not? Because Hankul represents the sounds of Korean speech so accurately that writing them down correctly as you hear them presents no challenge.

Elsewhere, that Awake! article also explains how Hangul systematically represents the sounds of Korean syllables:

All Korean syllables consist of two or three parts: an initial sound, a middle sound (a vowel or vowels) and, usually, an ending sound. Words are made up of one or more syllables. Each syllable is written inside an imaginary box, as shown below. The initial sound (a consonant or the silent ㅇ) is written at the top or upper left. If the middle vowel is vertically shaped, it is written to the right of the initial sound, while horizontally shaped vowels are written under it. Letters may also be doubled, adding stress, and multiple vowels may be compressed and written alongside each other. If the syllable has a final consonant, it always appears in the bottom position. In this way, thousands of different syllables can be represented with Hankul.

I don’t speak or read Korean, but from what I can gather from information like the above quotes, it seems that Hangul is like Pīnyīn+ (Pīn·yīn {Piecing Together of} · Sounds → [Pinyin] 拼音) (“Piecing Together of Sounds”), but for Korean.

The Hangul of Mandarin?

If Hangul is like Pīnyīn (Pīn·yīn {Piecing Together of} · Sounds → [Pinyin] 拼音) for Korean, then conversely, Pīnyīn (Pīn·yīn {Piecing Together of} · Sounds → [Pinyin] 拼音) is like Hangul for Mandarin, at least when it comes to what is accomplished by its technical design—both systems systematically represent the individual phonemes (distinct speech sounds that can distinguish one word from another) of the language it was designed for.

Another thing that Hangul and Pīnyīn (Pīn·yīn {Piecing Together of} · Sounds → [Pinyin] 拼音) have in common is that they have both been bitterly opposed and ridiculed by supporters of Chinese characters. Even though it was sponsored by King Sejong of the Korean Yi dynasty, Hangul was opposed by scholars, etc. who were invested in the more complex Chinese characters, the Hànzì (Hàn·zì {Han (Chinese)} · Characters 汉字 漢字) (or the Hanja, as the Koreans call them), and even though Hangul was created way back in the 1440s, the above-mentioned Awake! article says that “more than 400 years elapsed before the Korean government declared that Hankul could be used in official documents.” That was in 1894, and it would not be until 1949 in North Korea and the 1970s in South Korea that Hangul was promoted to become the dominant writing system in these places.

Pīnyīn (Pīn·yīn {Piecing Together of} · Sounds → [Pinyin] 拼音) was promoted by Máo Zédōng ((Máo Hair (surname) 毛) (Zé·dōng Marsh · East 泽东 澤東) (the founder of the People’s Republic of China)) and other early movers and shakers in modern China as a full writing system that was intended to eventually replace the Chinese characters, but when Pīnyīn (Pīn·yīn {Piecing Together of} · Sounds → [Pinyin] 拼音) was officially adopted by the PRC in 1958, it was not as a full writing system with equal status to that of the Chinese characters. (A scenario like that, with two writing systems for the same language, is known as digraphia.) (By the way, like Hangul and Zhōngguó (Zhōng·guó Central · Nation → [Chinese] 中国 中國) Mángwén+ (Máng·wén Blind · Writing → [Braille] 盲文) (中国盲文/中國盲文, Chinese Braille), Pīnyīn (Pīn·yīn {Piecing Together of} · Sounds → [Pinyin] 拼音)—designed along similar principles as those other two systems—is indeed a full writing system, not just a pronunciation aid.) As with Hangul, scholars, etc. who were heavily invested in the Chinese characters wouldn’t stand for that. Even as late as 2001, China’s Law on the Standard Spoken and Written Chinese Language of the People’s Republic of China said that in China, Pīnyīn (Pīn·yīn {Piecing Together of} · Sounds → [Pinyin] 拼音) is officially just “the tool of transliteration and phonetic notation”.

If Hangul took hundreds of years to become the dominant writing system in Korea, even with the added nationalistic motivation of it having been invented in Korea to be used instead of the characters invented in China, then Pīnyīn (Pīn·yīn {Piecing Together of} · Sounds → [Pinyin] 拼音) could take even longer to become the dominant writing system for Mandarin, if it ever does, and if this old system were hypothetically allowed to last that long—the supporters of invented-in-China Chinese characters are even more proudly and stubbornly resistant to the idea of changing away from Chinese characters in China itself.

At this rate, the current government of China, as long as it lasts, will probably never explicitly officially approve of using Pīnyīn (Pīn·yīn {Piecing Together of} · Sounds → [Pinyin] 拼音) as a full writing system for Mandarin in China, even if it’s just as an alternative to the characters instead of as a total replacement for them. Even if it actually wanted to do so, even this government would hesitate to approve of something like this that would probably be opposed by many of the people of China. (As a historic comparison, in 1977, the PRC promulgated a second round of simplified Chinese characters, but this was rescinded in 1986 following widespread opposition.)

Your Own Personal Hangul for Mandarin?

However, while that may be the situation with the proud worldly nation of China, what about each of us Mandarn field language learners, as individuals who are dedicated to Jehovah God and not to any worldly human culture? Especially if we don’t live in China, under the authority of the current government of China, we are free to choose for ourselves to use Pīnyīn (Pīn·yīn {Piecing Together of} · Sounds → [Pinyin] 拼音) as a full writing system for Mandarin and thus be fully empowered by its simplicity and elegance to serve Jehovah better, as long as we don’t allow ourselves to be shackled by mere human tradition, or by peer pressure.

Even in China itself, people should take into account that Article 18 of the above-mentioned Law on the Standard Spoken and Written Chinese Language of the People’s Republic of China says, in part:

The “Scheme for the Chinese Phonetic Alphabet” [Pīnyīn (Pīn·yīn {Piecing Together of} · Sounds → [Pinyin] 拼音)] is the unified norm of the Roman letters for transliterating the names of Chinese people and places as well as Chinese documents and is used in the realms where it is inconvenient to use the Chinese characters or where the Chinese characters cannot be used.

Technically, it could be said that the extraordinarily complex and inhumanly numerous Chinese characters are by their very nature inconvenient, and that when one does not know or remember some or all of the Chinese characters, “the Chinese characters cannot be used” in those situations…

The above-mentioned Awake! article mentions this historical milestone involving Hangul:

Finally, there was a Bible in Korean that could be read by nearly anyone​—even by women and children who had never had the opportunity to learn Chinese characters.

Many Mandarin field language learners, and literally tens of millions of Chinese people around the world as well, have also not learned Chinese characters. Will there ever be a Bible that uses Pīnyīn (Pīn·yīn {Piecing Together of} · Sounds → [Pinyin] 拼音) as its main writing system, and not just as a small-print pronunciation aid for the Chinese characters? Perhaps time will tell.