Himangshu Ranjan Bhuyan
(hrbhuyancolumnist@gmail.com)
Language in today’s mechanical, materialistic, and mod- ern society is not merely a simple medium for expressing thoughts, a bridge of communication, or a tool for writing stories and poems. Rather, it is an extremely powerful productive instrument of the economy. Any community that fails to treat its mother tongue not just as an object of emotion but as a strategic tool for economic production, distribution, and consumption will, as a historical truth and a natural consequence of social science, gradually turn that language into a near-dead artefact. We Assamese have, for more than half a century, agitated only for language—shouted emotional slogans in the streets, shed blood, seen hundreds of our fiery youths martyred, witnessed new government directives and laws issued—yet if we honestly ask ourselves today whether the Assamese language can guarantee employment to an ordinary middle-class or poor unemployed youth in Assam, or whether it possesses any direct economic value in the global market, the answer is far from satisfactory. It becomes a cause of profound disappointment and demands serious self-examination. The concept of the “economics of language” shows us that no language can be kept alive for long by appeals to emotion, affection, or aggressive nationalism alone if it cannot directly or indirectly assist people in their daily struggle for survival, especially in earning their bread. Therefore, to secure the future of Assamese, the time has come to examine the issue from an economic perspective rather than an emotional one. We must understand that the “economics of language” does not mean only the profit-and-loss calculations of printing and selling books; its scope is vast—it extends from the immense world of the internet to government work, the advertising market, the entertainment industry, tourism, and the education system.
In Assam’s present complex economic and social context, a deep, comprehensive, and dispassionate analysis of the relationship between the Assamese language and the markets for education and employment has become urgently necessary. This is currently one of the most sensitive and critical issues for our society. Today, the majority of parents across Assam’s villages and towns—even those who publicly proclaim great pride in being Assamese or deliver grand speeches in favour of the language—want to educate their children in private English-medium schools and are willing to spend beyond their means to do so. The root cause of this social phenomenon is not disregard for Assamese, lack of respect, or betrayal of the community. It is, rather, a realistic perception shaped by market economics and deeply embedded in their minds: in this era of globalization, studying in Assamese-medium schools will prevent their children from securing well-paid jobs in multinational companies or competing successfully with English-knowing rivals in the global market. We cannot dismiss this perception as entirely wrong or baseless, because over several decades our government education system and the country’s private corporate sector have deliberately created an environment in which not knowing English is treated as a social offence or practical incompetence. Yet when we look at the international reality, we see that people in the world’s most advanced and wealthiest countries—China, Japan, South Korea, Germany, and France—have become the finest technologists, scientists, doctors, and economists while receiving education in their mother tongues and continue to dominate the global economy. The problem lies not in any inherent weakness or grammatical deficiency of our language; the problem is that over the past decades we have utterly failed to develop Assamese into a language of knowledge, science, technical education, modern technology, and vocational training. Until high-quality books, research papers, and curricula in medicine, engineering, computer science, artificial intelligence, and business management become easily available in Assamese, the language’s “economic value” or market price will never rise. We remain content with emotional literary pursuits—writing stories, novels, and poems—but forget that the language must also become a tool for earning one’s livelihood. As a result, a talented student today believes that majoring in Assamese or studying in an Assamese-medium school will lead only to a career as a college lecturer in the Assamese department or a newspaper journalist—nothing bigger, no door to the wider corporate world. This is an unpleasant truth. To change this sense of inferiority and despair, we must reshape the language to meet modern market demands, and that requires intense intellectual labour rather than mere emotion.
The twenty-first century’s digital revolution and the world of the internet have completely transformed the economics of language everywhere, and the encouraging fact is that it has brought an unprecedented golden opportunity for Assamese—one we have not yet fully utilised. The demand for Assamese content on YouTube, Facebook, Instagram, and various blogging platforms has grown beyond imagination. Only a few years ago we all believed that the internet and computers belonged exclusively to English, with no place for small languages like ours. Yet today, simple young people from remote Assamese villages, without any formal training, are creating videos in their own dialects and earning lakhs of rupees every month. This is the true economic power of language, where the ability to connect with people matters more than purity, spelling, or grammar. When giants like Google, Meta (Facebook), and Amazon analyse their data and see that internet users in Assam are growing rapidly and prefer to consume content in their mother tongue rather than English, they are compelled to give importance to Assamese to expand their business and reach more customers, thereby creating an international market for the language. Today there are many successful Assamese YouTubers, bloggers, and influencers who, abandoning hopes of government jobs, have become fully financially independent solely through creating content in Assamese. This is not limited to light entertainment or comedy; many now earn substantial income by providing news, educational videos, cooking tutorials, travel stories, and even complex financial advice in Assamese. This means there is a consumer base for Assamese in the market. According to the simple law of economics, where there are consumers, economic activity will remain alive. Yet a negative aspect has also emerged: questions are often raised about the standard, vocabulary, and depth of content in the Assamese used on digital platforms. Still, viewed purely from an economic standpoint, this digital revolution has rescued Assamese from the brink of death and made it relevant once again. What we need now is to move beyond cheap humour, song, and dance and present serious subjects—modern technology, stock-market analysis, health awareness, legal advice—in simple Assamese, thereby building a vast “digital knowledge economy” that can attract the younger generation.
Another vitally important but often neglected area is the use of Assamese in modern advertising and branding and its economic significance. If you observe carefully, you will notice that major multinational companies—whether automobile, mobile-phone, or soap-and-shampoo manufacturers—try to use Assamese in newspaper or hoarding advertisements when selling products in Assam. Their reason is not any genuine love, respect, or responsibility toward Assamese; it is purely business interest and profit calculation. Their market research tells them that to connect emotionally with ordinary Assamese consumers and extract money from their pockets, they must speak in the consumers’ mother tongue. Unfortunately, however, the linguistic standard of these advertisements is often extremely poor and sometimes comical. Frequently, someone sitting in Mumbai or Delhi translates a Hindi or English advertisement mechanically via Google Translate or similar tools, resulting in distorted meaning and adverse impact on customers. The main reason is the absence of skilled copywriters or professional translators who truly know Assamese and understand Assamese culture within these large companies. It points to a new professional opportunity for our educated unemployed youth. If we can train our younger generation not only as literary writers but also as proficient commercial translators and creative advertising writers, a demand for them will be created in this vast corporate world. Knowing only literary language or grammar will not suffice; there is an acute shortage of people who can write the concise, attractive market language that instantly persuades customers to buy. In Assam’s local markets, Assamese remains the primary language of transaction—from small village shops to weekly rural bazaars, all monetary exchanges happen in Assamese. Yet the opposite picture appears as soon as we enter city shopping malls or modern showrooms: Assamese suddenly disappears, and sales staff begin speaking in Hindi or English. The reason is that we have failed to establish Assamese commercially as a “premium” or elite language. Only an economically strong community can accord dignity to its language. Until Assamese purchasing power increases and Assamese entrepreneurs treat the use of Assamese in business as a matter of pride rather than mere tradition, this gap will remain before our eyes.
Assam’s publishing industry—that is, the business of printing and selling books—should have been a major pillar of the economics of language, yet in reality it struggles amid intense hardship and uncertainty. Every year crores of rupees worth of books are sold at the Guwahati Book Fair and district-level fairs, which is undoubtedly good news and proves that Assamese people still want to read books. Outside those few fair days, however, the book market remains limited and stagnant for the rest of the year. A primary reason is the extreme weakness of our distribution system and the conservative mindset of publishers who cannot adapt to modern digital media. Even today many reputed publishers remain unwilling to embrace e-books or audiobooks. Yet in today’s busy world people prefer reading on mobiles while travelling or listening through headphones while working rather than buying and reading physical books. Assamese books have negligible presence on international platforms like Storytel, Audible, or Kindle, preventing us from reaching Assamese readers scattered across the world. If we wish to take our literature to the global stage or make our writers financially independent, we must stop viewing books only as sacred repositories of knowledge and treat them also as commercial products. Packaging, cover design, online marketing, and digital availability must be ensured. On the other hand, Assamese still enjoys considerable dominance in the news media. Assamese newspapers and satellite television channels provide direct and indirect employment to thousands. Yet this sector now faces fierce competition and economic slowdown. With the rapid rise of digital media, print newspaper advertising revenue is falling sharply, causing many papers and magazines to close. Consequently, our news media are also shifting greater emphasis to digital platforms. One thing is clear: regardless of medium, people want their news and information in Assamese, and this widespread demand keeps the economics of the news sector alive.
The relationship between language and the tourism industry is far deeper and more intimate than mere signboards. Assam possesses immense tourism potential that could become the backbone of our economy. Tourism is not limited to viewing rhinos in Kaziranga or visiting Kamakhya temple; it involves experiencing local culture, food, and interaction with people. When a foreign or out-of-state tourist visits Assam, they do not come only to see inanimate nature; they want to understand local lifestyles and hear folk tales. Here the role of guides and interpreters becomes crucial. Even more important is how attractively we brand and promote our tourism sites with Assamese at the centre. To project Assam’s tourism on the world stage, we rely primarily on English, which is necessary for international communication and admits no dispute. Yet there is a clear lack of quality travel information, tourism websites, and guidebooks in Assamese for local tourists within the state or domestic tourists from other Indian states. Moreover, the unchecked influx of outside workers and the resulting rapid demographic change have exerted a deep and negative impact on the economics of language. Today in many Assamese markets—especially construction, transport, and retail—Hindi or Bengali are increasingly dominant. The reason is that migrant workers, though employed in Assam, feel no compulsion or need to learn Assamese because local Assamese people begin speaking to them in the migrants’ own languages (Hindi or broken Bengali). An eternal rule of economics is that the language of whoever holds money or work prevails in that market. If we show laxity in using Assamese in our economic transactions, markets, or interactions with workers—or speak others’ languages out of inferiority—we will inevitably lose ground to those languages. To compel outsiders to learn Assamese, our economic backbone and self-respect must become strong.
Finally, to increase the economic value of Assamese and save it from destruction requires a well-planned, collective effort from government, business circles, and ordinary citizens. Victory in this economic battle cannot be achieved through emotion alone or street slogans. We must honestly acknowledge that English is an indispensable skill in today’s global age, and rejecting it would be folly, yet learning English does not mean we must abandon our mother tongue. Instead, we should teach our youth to advance by treating bilingual competence as capital. Translation literature, software localisation, voice-over artistry, content writing, subtitling—these are respectable new-age professions in which mastery of Assamese is a major economic asset. Government cannot consider its duty fulfilled merely by mandating Assamese on shop signboards. Easy and straightforward use of Assamese must be ensured in all government online portals, tenders, application processes, and court judgements so that even an illiterate or minimally educated villager can complete their work without middlemen. Only when the language becomes easily available and indispensable at every level of practical life—from bank cheques to courtrooms, from rice sacks in markets to computer screens—will its true “value” be determined. A language lives solely through widespread use, and use depends on its daily necessity. We must elevate Assamese to a level where it is not only a symbol of identity but also a vehicle of progress, business, and prosperity. The Assamese language of the future must be smart, technology-dependent, and economically profitable; only then will it survive in the world arena by its own strength, not through others’ mercy.
(The author is the recipient of the ‘Yuba Lekhak Sanman - 2025’ from the Government of Assam.)