English is easy, and American is easier

Many speakers of English as a foreign language state, and perhaps all would agree, that the ease of learning English exceeds that of their own language. In support of this argument, they can point to their ability to make themselves understood to native speakers of English, to the relatively small number of verb forms and very probably to concepts expressed by a single word which translates to several words in their mother tongue, if a translation exists at all. Furthermore, the point would not be worth making were it not based on all other things being equal: the degree of exposure to English experienced by people around the world is surely unmatched by any language now or at any other time in history.

The reasons why many students believe American English to be easier than British English are less clear. There may be a clue in the point about making oneself understood: when asking a question and expecting confirmation, it is simpler to finish with 'right?' (as Americans do) than to repeat the auxiliary verb 'aren't I?', 'doesn't he?' and so on (as Americans also do). And again, exposure plays a part: British people are likely to be used to hearing (and therefore understand) American accents, idioms and vocabulary despite not using them, but not vice versa. As I write this, I cannot help thinking of the analogy of boxing against a southpaw: the way that left-handers enjoy an advantage through their experience of dealing with a right-handed opponent whose experience of left-handers pales by comparison. It follows from this that anyone studying British English will become conversant with both British and American English, thus gaining an advantage.

The choice between sneakers or trainers is arbitrary; many people use neither with Latin Americans tending to prefer 'tennis' and even Australians saying 'runners'. However, I have yet to meet anybody from outside the Anglosphere who preferred aluminum to aluminium, faucet to tap or trolley to tram. Then there's fringe, straight from French: where on earth did 'bangs' come from? As for pronunciation, Koreans often render Zee as 'Jee'; were they to call the final letter of the alphabet Zed it would be harder to confuse with G. What is more, the British vowel in 'dog' or 'dock' is made with a visibly different shape of the lips, making it easier to distinguish from 'duck'.

What is undeniable is that relatively few English speakers learn a foreign language to a functional standard, i.e. to the level of holding a conversation.  It could be that many people concur with the logic of schoolchildren, reasoning that 'Everyone speaks English anyway so why bother?'.  Compounding this is the question of whether 'they' even want you to learn 'their' language, and those who live abroad often report that the more you learn the cagier the locals get.  Melvyn Bragg argues in 'The Story of English' that grammar is a screening tool to spot infiltrators, and perhaps that explains why the errors so frequently made by foreigners and natives alike (double negation, verb-subject disagreement and so on) are so jarring. Is life is or is life ain't richer for non-standard forms?

In conclusion I would say that anybody who puts the hours in is likely to find something they like in British and American English - and very probably in other varieties within the US and UK and elsewhere.  The one thing I can say with absolute certainty is that anyone who thinks learning a language is easy would do well to remember Ernest Hemingway's experience of being complimented on his Italian and saying he found it easy - and then hearing the retort "well, why don't you try and learn it properly then?"