When we contemplate language as a tool for thought and a mirror of existence, we stand at the threshold of two terms that have often been confused in minds: concept and meaning. They are two distinct facets in their essence, yet intertwined in their presence. It is impossible to seek meaning without grasping the concept, nor to form a concept without clothing it in the linguistic signification that gives it life in speech.
The concept, in its essence, is the mental representation, or the mental image, or the core produced by free thought when it contemplates things, classifies them, and abstracts them from their immediate particularity. Perhaps the clearest example is how we form the concept of “tree” in our minds: when we hear the word, we do not stop at a particular olive tree or a towering palm in a specific garden, but rather a general model forms in our consciousness carrying the essential features of the idea of a tree: a wooden trunk, roots, branches, leaves, and perhaps shade. This concept remains relatively stable despite the different forms and names of trees around the world.
Meaning, on the other hand, is the other side of this mental image when it materializes in language and context. For example, when I say: “I sat under the shade of the tree,” the meaning is direct: a tree in a garden or farm. But if I say: “My grandfather was the family tree,” the meaning transcends the botanical image and lands in the realm of metaphor, where “tree” becomes a symbol for the grandfather from whom branches of children and grandchildren extend. The concept hasn’t changed: the root, branches, and extension remain, but the meaning expands to rely on symbolism.
To deepen this difference further, consider the word “light.” The concept of light in the human mind is associated with illumination, the dispersal of darkness, and the ability of the eye to see. This mental representation has existed in humans since the beginnings of awareness. However, the meaning changes depending on the context: in physical sciences, for example, “light” is electromagnetic waves of specific wavelengths. In religious texts, “light” may be a symbol of guidance and truth, as in the verse: “Allah is the Light of the heavens and the earth” (Quran 24:35), where light becomes a spiritual concept transcending the limits of physics into metaphysics. In poetry, a poet may say: “She is the light of my heart,” transferring it to a purely emotional metaphor and giving it a new sentimental meaning.
Let’s also take an example from science: the word “cell.” The precise scientific concept of a cell is the basic unit of life in living organisms, having a nucleus, membrane, and vital functions. This is the concept that a student learns in biology lessons. Yet, the meaning in usage varies: we say “a beehive cell,” or “a secret work cell.” Each time, the original concept (a small, independent unit with a function) remains, but the meaning shifts entirely depending on context.
The difference becomes clearer when we introduce the cultural dimension. In Arab culture, the word “house” carries a known material concept: a place for living and shelter. But its literary and poetic meaning overflows the boundaries of bricks and cement: we say “the house of poetry” (Bayt al-Qasid) to refer to the essence of a poem, or “my house is a small homeland” to emphasize the emotional meaning of place. Here, the concept is concentrated and clear, while the meaning shifts between reality and symbol.
Similarly, in legal or philosophical discourse, many concepts require strict precision to avoid slippage in meaning. The concept of “justice” in political philosophy is an abstract principle defining the balance of rights and duties. Yet in everyday life, “justice” might be used loosely to indicate revenge at times, appeasement, or even emotional equality among children, although the original concept of justice is not confined to these simple understandings.
This distinction between concept and meaning illuminates how thought contributes to shaping language, and how language reconfigures thought into a living form that can be transmitted, understood, and interpreted. Therefore, philosophers, linguists, and translators are keen to distinguish concepts with clear terms, because the slippage of concepts into the maze of meanings may confuse discourse and obscure the goal.
In the end, perhaps one of the most beautiful lessons this difference teaches us is that language is not merely a silent mirror of the mind, but also a passage through which the concept crosses into a new life in its meaning. The concept is nothing but the core of thought, and meaning is the maturation of that core when it inhabits the body of the word in the presence of the listener and reader. Between them lies the secret of humanity: to think, to name, and then to load that naming with thousands of lives and significations each time it is spoken.
Sharjah, United Arab Emirates
6-7-2025
