The Arbitrariness of Language…and Money.
Saussure does not begin the comparison between money and language until late in his discourse on language when he distinguishes value from signification; the former, he says is “one element” of the latter (857). By now Saussure has taken the reader through the twofold process he terms signification, which others would simply title a “naming process,” as well as the arbitrariness of a word’s value due to its interdependence on the values of others (852). The process, signification, is made up of a signifier, a sound-image, or, less jargonistic, a word, and the signified, which is the idea or mental image the sound-image effects; however, the referent has no place in this process of signification because the idea or the conceptualization of the referent is just that, an idea of, not the actual thing in and of itself. In this way, though not only in this way, signification is arbitrary. Another way in which signification is arbitrary is by assessing the signifier’s values, which I will go on to explain. Value, for Saussure, is an element of signification; the latter consists of multiple steps, which includes the attribution of a value to the sound-image. Yet the value of the sound-image or signifier is more complicated than saying that the signified is the value of the signifier, Saussure explains.
The linguistic value and its arbitrariness can be compared to monetary value. For example, a dollar bill can be exchanged for a bottled water just as a sound-image may return a concept; here value is seemingly the same for contrasting objects. The following example looks at value through comparisons: a dollar bill is equal to one hundred pennies as hot is equal to tropical, but is it? The two examples illustrate that the value of language and money is “fixed only by the concurrence of everything that exists outside it.” It is the economy which sets a price on bottled water and society, a meaning to a word. Governments assert one dollar is exchangeable for one hundred pennies and thesauruses provide us with the authority to see hot and tropical as somewhat synonymous (859).
What Saussure calls value, Jakobson might term the poetic or emotive quality of language. Saussure gives an example employing the french word mouton, which can denote both the animal, sheep, and its meat in one word unlike English which needs two. Jakobson discusses that while two words may be synonyms, the, probably purposeful, choice by the speaker of one over the other produces fundamentally different emotions. “Emotiveness” is more apparent in making the decision between “hot” and “very warm,” most of all for poets. He adds that to write off that “emotive difference is a nonlinguistic feature and arbitrary reduces the informational capacity of language,” which seems impossible to argue against, since language is a function that requires both the right and left side of one’s brain, the emotional and the rational, respectively (1148). “Objectivity” comes at a price, I suppose, but how “objective” can you be when you’re missing half of the puzzle?
As I have already mentioned, Saussure sees linguistic value as interdependent on the culture which envelops it and, thereby, as “being part of a system.” Just as language, the economy consists of a collective agreement. The assumption or agreement is that paper can be used to buy things and that people can own things, or else there would be a chaos of “robberies.” In linguistics, the agreement is that certain sound-images conjure up conceptual images and not others or else no one would be able to communicate. The quality of language which money lacks is the emotive, as Jakobson explains it. There is no truly emotional quality which motivates one to pay with four quarters rather than a dollar bill. There is a man, Daniel Suelo who has chosen to live without money in America and has survived thus far, but I do not know of a man who has does the same with(out) language, at least, not for long. Daniel Suelo, Nietzsche might applaud; for, he chose to do away with a truth (money), which is simply an illusion our memories forgot we invented (768).
Lastly, just like the value of money is adjusted for inflation, so, too, are words adjusted by or for the ever-changing culture; etymology is a great example of this. Nice comes from the latin word “nescius,” which means ignorant. In the thirteenth century, nice had the connotations of foolish, stupid, and senseless; compare those to the present ones.


