He Changed Language Forever—But No One Talks About Him

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Let’s talk about one of the biggest influencers in linguistic history.

No, not Shakespeare. Not Confucius. Not whoever runs Duolingo’s TikTok account.

We’re talking about Cyril. A monk. A missionary. A man with a quill, a mission, and frankly, zero chill.

And while you’ve probably never heard of him, over 250 million people still use what he built.

Let’s rewind a bit.

A Monk Walks Into the 9th Century

Our story starts in the Byzantine Empire. It’s the 800s. The world is full of emperors, bishops, and various people named Theodosius. And somewhere in Thessaloniki, a man named Constantine is born. (Yes, he later changes his name to Cyril. Why? Monks love a good rebrand.)

Cyril grows up smart. Like, scary smart. Fluent in Greek, Slavic, and Latin smart. He becomes a philosopher, a theologian, and a professor in Constantinople before most of us have figured out how to use semicolons correctly.

Then one day, Emperor Michael III taps him on the shoulder and says:

“Hey, want to convert the Slavs?”

And Cyril’s like:
“Sure. But I’m bringing my brother.”

That brother is Methodius, and the two of them will become the most iconic duo in Slavic history that isn’t in a folk tale.

The Alphabet That Wasn’t

When Cyril and Methodius arrived in Great Moravia (modern-day Czechia/Slovakia-ish), they found a problem. You can’t exactly spread religion if the people you’re preaching to can’t read your sacred texts.

Greek won’t work. Latin’s political. German priests are already making things awkward.

So Cyril does what most people wouldn’t dare: He invents an alphabet. From scratch.

It’s called Glagolitic. (No, that’s not a typo. And yes, it sounds like a D&D spell.)

It was beautiful. It was weird. It had letters that looked like celestial runes and kitchen utensils. But most importantly—it worked. Slavic languages could finally be written down.

Now, here’s the twist: Glagolitic was just the warm-up.

Because after Cyril’s death (RIP, linguistic king), his students in Bulgaria refined the system. They simplified it. Made it more practical. Gave it a name in honor of the man who made it all possible.

That name? Cyrillic.

So… Why Does This Matter?

Let’s take stock for a second.

• Cyril and Methodius create a writing system to help people read religious texts.
• That system evolves into the Cyrillic alphabet.
• Cyrillic goes on to become the backbone of languages like Russian, Bulgarian, Ukrainian, Serbian, and more.
• Over 250 million people still use it today.
• And Cyril? Barely gets mentioned outside of theology textbooks.

This is like if Steve Jobs invented the iPhone and history remembered him as “some guy who liked apples.”

The Name Game: Cyrillic ≠ Greek

Let’s be clear here: Cyrillic isn’t just a version of Greek.

It’s inspired by Greek, sure—Greek was the Beyoncé of scripts at the time. But Cyrillic added unique letters to match Slavic sounds Greek didn’t have.

Like the “zh” sound in “treasure.”

Or the hard “ts” in “pizza.”

Or the “shch” sound that honestly doesn’t exist in English but lives rent-free in every Russian speaker’s brain.

Cyrillic didn’t just copy-paste Greek. It upgraded it. It hacked it for Slavic needs. And it made literacy possible in places where it had never existed.

It’s like creating a custom keyboard layout so you can finally write your fanfiction in Klingon.

Why We Don’t Talk About Cyril

So, why does no one talk about him?

Partly because he was too successful.

His invention became so normal, so integrated, that people stopped questioning where it came from.

Partly because he was a monk, and monks aren’t exactly known for flashy PR campaigns.

But also—because we’ve gotten used to thinking of alphabets as inevitable.

As if they just appear, like moss or passive-aggressive post-it notes in office kitchens.

Spoiler: they don’t. Alphabets are invented. Carefully. Purposefully. Often by people we forget to thank.

One Last Plot Twist (if you are reading my newsletter, you will maybe get it)

Here’s the most Cyril thing about Cyril:

The word “utopia”, that beautiful dreamland of brunch and bullet trains, literally means “nowhere.”

Cyril made a writing system that did exist. For real people. In real places.

He didn’t dream up a fictional paradise—he gave people the tools to describe the one they were already in.

That’s legacy. That’s influence. That’s the monk who changed language forever.

And we should probably start talking about him.