If I ever marry, it’ll be to a girl whose first language is English. Having grown up in a bilingual household, I’ve witnessed the severity of the disadvantage associated with trying to argue your case in a language you didn’t learn until your college years. Even people who, under normal conditions, have a good grip on a language can get tripped up when involved in an argument because of the tendency for participants to feel under pressure to express themselves quickly before they’re drowned in counterpoints made by others. When I was young and saw my mother struggling to say what she meant, I wished the tides would turn and my father would have to argue in French. In my high school naivety I daydreamed of facetiously asking my girlfriend “What’s wrong with us, how come we never fight?”