1.1.1.c Semantic Stupidity and the Tautological Trap
Semantic Stupidity and the Tautological Trap
Imagine yourself at a carnival. Among the many attractions, one catches your attention. “Step right up, ladies and gentlemen. Hidden behind this curtain is one of the world’s greatest wonders—the Most Complicated Musical Instrument.” You pay your admission and duck behind the curtain, expecting some exhilarating, wild contraption. Instead, you find an old guy on a stool singing “Old MacDonald Had a Farm.” You’d likely want a refund—not because the song isn’t complicated (even coloratura soprano Diana Damrau singing the Queen of the Night aria would fall short), but because it’s just plain odd to think of voice as a complex instrument. Still, that’s a common characterization among voice pedagogues, and I think it’s problematic.
Remember, we’re talking about voice, a core human function expressed at the moment of birth with equal measures of power and ease. In the previous lesson, we noted that “the human voice is one of nature’s greatest marvels,” which feels worlds apart from calling it “a complex musical instrument.” It’s vital to understand the dangers in reducing the voice to labels like these. Let’s start by looking at the words “complex” and “instrument.”
The Problem with “Complex”
com·plex \\[ ˈkäm-ˌpleks , kəm-ˈpleks \\] adjective:
Composed of interconnected or interwoven parts; complicated or intricate, as in a complex machine or system.
Difficult to understand or explain; having multiple, often conflicting aspects or facets; not easily analyzed or reduced to simple terms, as in a complex problem or issue.
When used as an adjective, “complex” suggests its subject is more involved than whatever came before it. A “complex problem” implies a tougher solution process. A “complex piece of software” signals a steep learning curve. Those implications distort a nuanced understanding of voice. Yes, the voice does have interconnected parts in a system, but what about the second definition? A professional singer may devote thousands of hours to refining their craft, yet billions of people sing with no conscious training at all. They simply do it as easily as walking. So, “complex” isn’t the best word to describe the voice.
The Problem with “Instrument”
in·stru·ment \\[ ˈin(t)-strə-mənt \\] noun:
A tool or device used to perform a specific task, such as a musical instrument, a surgical instrument, or a measuring instrument.
From a purely grammatical perspective, I get why “instrument” is used. But consider the word “specific.” A piano, for example, was built specifically to produce music. Sure, it can double as a bookshelf, but you won’t see “doorstop” listed in a tuba maker’s product description. If you lift a piano’s lid, you can see its parts and watch them work. It’s constructed for a single, recognizable function, and anyone can grasp the basics of that function.
The voice is entirely different. I can’t think of a single part of the voice that isn’t shared with at least one other bodily function. Imagine a piano that also supplied electricity, handled plumbing, controlled the thermostat, and did the laundry. That multitasking piano wouldn’t begin to match the workload that your vocal structures handle! So no, the voice isn’t a task-specific instrument.
Complexity, Simplicity, and Rejecting the “Instrument” Label
We face a paradox. The voice does involve many parts—larynx, supporting musculature, vocal tract, lips, palate, tongue—all coordinated to produce sound with incredible precision. By that standard, it’s definitely complex. But name any system in human physiology that isn’t! Meanwhile, there’s nothing complex about using your voice. We do it from the moment we’re born, with zero conscious instruction.
So yes, voice is complex to understand but not complex to use. At the same time, if you underestimate the voice’s functional complexity, you can end up with serious problems—and if you overcomplicate your approach, you can end up with equally troubling issues. The bottom line: “complex” isn’t a word we’ll be using here.
As for “instrument,” well, that’s just misguided. If the voice were an instrument, you could pack it away at night or replace it if it broke. Not going to happen. I don’t own a “piano instrument;” I own a piano. It’s the thing itself—no extra qualifiers needed. Likewise, we’re studying voice, not “the voice,” not “the voice instrument,” and definitely not “the voice organ” (I really dislike that term). Just voice.
Summary
We’re making real progress here. We’ve established that voice is a core human function you learned instinctively from birth and that labeling it as a “complex musical instrument” can be deeply misleading. My hope is you’ll join me in dropping the terms “complex” and “instrument” and simply call it voice. More than a quirk of semantics, it’s about recognizing that flawed or confusing language can derail our understanding of how voice truly works.
Next, we’ll dig deeper into what we actually mean by “voice,” exploring how one word can carry so many nuances and applications. By clarifying our vocabulary now, we’ll have a solid foundation to pursue any vocal ambitions you set your sights on.
BRIEF SUMMARY
The lesson critiques the common practice of calling the voice a “complex musical instrument.”
It highlights that the voice, unlike a task-specific device such as a piano, is an innate human function used effortlessly from birth.
Describing the voice as “complex” can be misleading because it implies difficulty in using it, whereas humans naturally master it without formal training.
Labeling it as an “instrument” is equally problematic, given its multi-purpose role in speech, breathing, and more.
The central argument is to drop these misleading terms and simply call it “voice,” recognizing its fundamental role and innate accessibility.
EXERCISE OR ACTIVITY: The Vocal Awareness Experiment
Choose a Common Utterance: Pick a short phrase (for example, “Hello there”) that you say in everyday life.
Say It Naturally: First, speak it casually, exactly as you would in conversation. Notice how you don’t have to think much about posture, breath, or other “technical” components.
Explore Variation: Now, try saying the same phrase in different ways—softly, loudly, melodically, or as if you were speaking to someone across a room. Observe how your body automatically adjusts (breath support, mouth shape, etc.) without conscious planning.
Reflect: In a short journal entry or group discussion, note what you experienced. Did you have to think of your voice as an “instrument”? Did the complexity of coordination feel natural, or did you have to force it?
Conclusion: Discuss or write about how this activity relates to the lesson’s idea that the voice is not simply a “complex musical instrument” but a fundamental, versatile human function we use instinctively.
