Exploring Dog-Human Communication
What if you could communicate with your pet? If they could just tell you how much they love you, how, when you leave the house to go to work, it feels like they've just spent a week without you?
In the 1970s, a gorilla named Koko learned sign language. With the help of researchers, she was able to demonstrate a level of intelligence that inspired a generation of scientists. For the first time, we were forced to rethink just how good animals are at communication. Although some researchers are still skeptical of Koko's abilities, everyone can admit that watching her form relationships through language is truly mesmerizing. Her rich inner life was on full display; she expressed her preferences, emotions, and wants. Language opened up the opportunity to communicate across species.
But we taught Koko one of our languages. She adapted to human communication styles. She learned from our species, and we judged her intelligence based on our metrics, assuming we’re superior. But what if we could understand and speak the languages of other animals instead of having to teach them our own? Right now, we can differentiate the meanings of bird calls and categorize the unique dances of honeybees, but could we go a step further? Although it currently sounds like science fiction, we might be closer than you think.
Bioacoustics is the study of sound in the environment, including animal sounds. Biologists in this field have collected thousands of recordings of different animals communicating. Unfortunately, it’s so much data that it’s almost impossible to analyze it manually. But that’s all changing. In 2017, researchers developed machine learning that could translate directly between languages. The technology aligned linguistic shapes and syntax to decipher meaning. These computers have started being used to organize and synthesize the thousands of recordings we have to identify consistent linguistic patterns. If we can successfully break down these complex linguistic patterns, we might just be able to teach ourselves how to speak the languages of the animals.
Sure, our vocal cords can't make sounds like whales, but that's what computers are for. And once we really codify these languages, what's stopping us from using them? In theory, it could be possible to have an entire interspecies conversation using a non-human language. But it's one thing to know what's being said; it's another thing to entirely know the meaning behind what is said. That meaning is still the biggest problem in the field of animal communication.
With Koko the gorilla, no one could be sure if she was communicating her own thoughts and ideas or if she just learned the right moves to get the reaction she wanted from her human carers. In essence, we might figure out what an animal is saying, but how can we be sure we know what the animal means? And in turn, how can we be sure that they understand what we mean? Learning a language is one thing, but communicating effectively is an entirely different thing.
Even with humans, we have double names for things like chai tea, naan bread, and Sahara Desert because when new people got to a place and asked for the name of something, they were given its title and just used that to mean that specific thing. This clearly shows that we can understand something without fully knowing its intended meaning. Other things, like non-verbal cues, also play a massive role in communication, regardless of species. Like humans, animals might use body language or inflection that changes the tone of their message. It opens up a whole other layer of communication beyond vocalization.
To understand language itself is only one piece of the puzzle. Imagine what life would be like without animals; no giant elephants, no cute mice, no dogs or cats. I don't know about you, but that sounds horrible, which is why we need to protect animals and restore their ecosystems. That seems like an impossible task for individuals like you and me.
To help us, I partnered with Planet Wild, an organization that's making restoring global ecosystems within everyone's reach. More on them and the free gift they have for you at the end of the video. Anthropomorphism, attributing human characteristics to an animal, is another problem in the scientific community. It skews research and can do great harm to animals. Most people, even the most unbiased scientists, do it without realizing it.
Think about how you treat your cat or dog. At some point, you've probably projected your wants and needs onto your pet. You've celebrated their birthday or allowed them special privileges, like sitting on the couch. Or they've contorted their face into a smile, and you assume that means they're happy. Most pet owners swear they have a unique language with their animals; they chatter with their cats or read their dog's cues. And when they guess what their pet wants, they're often right.
Some people use buttons or soundboards to train their dogs to speak in basic sentences. While this is fascinating to witness, it's not concrete proof of complex communication. The dog may have learned that if he presses the buttons in a particular order, he gets a desired outcome like a treat or a walk, but it's unlikely he knows what words like "please," "treat," and "walk" mean. Yet there's something about these videos that piques our interest. They give us the sense that we've unlocked the mystery of the animal mind.
We want to communicate with the animals to get inside their heads. Popular movies and TV shows are full of talking animals and close relationships between people and their non-human companions. Why are we so obsessed with communicating with another species? Are we more like our animal neighbors than we think? The more we learn about how and why animals communicate, the more apparent the ties that link us together become.
Seal pups, for example, communicate similarly to human babies, mimicking and babbling to their mothers, trying to imitate vocalizations. Elephants have been known to mourn the death of herd members. Grief, joy, playfulness, and depression have been documented across the animal kingdom. Again, be careful not to slip into anthropomorphism. But what if the boundary between humans and non-humans isn't as solid as it seems? Humans are animals too, after all.
With the help of technological developments, there's more and more evidence that communication isn't the distinct human trait we pride ourselves on. For most of human history, we've used it to distinguish ourselves as the superior species. Our perceived superiority lets us justify the mistreatment of animals, from expanding into their habitat to factory farming. We rationalize our behavior because we assume animals don't think and feel the same way we do.
Evidence of animal sentience is still easy to doubt because human interpretation skews the findings. In order to believe it, we need to hear it straight from the horse's mouth. Literally communicating directly with animals, without a human bias in the translation process, would cause a massive paradigm shift. Animal inferiority is so ingrained in Western culture that stabilizing the hierarchy would be difficult.
Even in your day-to-day, think about how you treat animals. You stomp spiders, chew and swallow meat, and chase bunnies from your garden. Not to mention the more extreme mistreatment of animals, such as hunting for sport, circuses, and dog fighting. If it was possible to communicate with animals, we might find that they were much smarter than we originally thought. Then we'd have a big moral problem on our hands.
We'd almost certainly feel conflicted about treating them as food and servants. How could you deny decency and respect to a creature that proves itself your equal? To push this even further, some research suggests that plant life has communicative abilities too. Author Peter Wohlleben is at the forefront of plant sentience and writes about how the complex root systems of forests spread information. Trees can warn each other about pests and form codependent relationships through their complex underground root networks.
Wohlleben has been accused of anthropomorphizing, but I wonder if this criticism is sometimes misguided and used to deny a common thread between humans and non-humans. Many indigenous cultures have it ingrained in their belief systems that every living thing, and even some non-living things, has spirits worthy of respect. In an intuitive fleeting moment between species, we can recognize the being that's inside another animal. Maybe you've nursed a baby bird back to health or had a chance encounter with a majestic deer in the woods, or watched an elephant give birth.
The animals and ourselves are all involved in a vast web of interconnected life. Does our focus on anthropomorphism obscure the mystery and wonder of that fact? An emotional link exists between the human and the non-human; it's not quantifiable or scientifically motivated; it's something you feel. Yes, we shouldn't impose our beliefs onto the species around us or assume that we know what they want, but we also shouldn't close ourselves off and believe that a huge chasm exists between us.
A new frontier of animal communication is slowly emerging, thanks to technology that's bringing us closer to the rest of the living world. This technology shows promise for the betterment of the lives of farm animals, and you might even have a conversation with your pet one day. But, as always, there's a risk of danger too. In the wrong hands, poachers could lure herds of rhinos to their death, or fisheries could use this technology to overfish.
If we could communicate with animals, it's possible that we might even act worse towards them, lying to them and tricking them into doing as we say. I'm reminded of a famous Dr. Malcolm line from Jurassic Park, where he says, "Your scientists were so preoccupied with whether or not they could that they didn't stop to think if they should."
And what happens if the animals talk back and tell us things we don't want to hear? Suddenly, you're arguing with your dog about how many walks he deserves per day. When we think about the possibility of interspecies communication, we tend to think about the highs rather than the lows. How cool would it be to get in your dog's head, to have a full-fledged conversation? They could be understanding when you explain why her properties have been relocated to new homes or the results of an unfortunate vet visit.
Even in civic life, whole city planning and public works projects could grind to a halt as we are forced to reconsider the perspectives of all the animals in our neighborhood. Our right to safe housing, access to food, and clean water wouldn't differ from our animal counterparts. The boundaries between what we consider our home and their home might be blurrier than they seem.
If you're interested, we have a whole video that questions the very definition of nature and our place in it. In the face of ecological crisis, we should reflect on the role we humans play in our relationships to our non-human counterparts. Any opportunity to change our behavior is one that will slow the effects of climate change, so becoming aware of the complexities of the non-human world might make us feel more accountable.
We would see how our actions impact the species around us, and once we see how closely related our emotional lives are, we wouldn't be able to deny animals the same level of respect that we give to humans. If we understand wildlife to be just as nuanced and complex as we are, it's harder to make choices that negatively affect them.
We'd likely start making better, more sustainable decisions about the planet. Technology that allows human-to-animal communication is most useful in the hands of researchers and conservationists who have the animals' best interests at heart. Interspecies communication is a delicate, ethically complicated idea that's difficult to wrap your head around. If there ever is a huge breakthrough, I can imagine resistance; some people could have a desire to retain power as the supposed superior species.
Changing our ways would require a spirit of cooperation and a sense of wonder about the possibilities of our world. It won't come easy when human history—especially Western colonial history—hinges on the taming and claiming of the wilderness. Another question is: how do we approach developments in animal communication openly and honestly? Being aware of our biases, opinions, and true intentions is key.
We need to be willing to have our minds changed and realize that our worldview will need to become more harmonious with nature. Like advancements in microbiology, sending a man to the moon, or the discovery that the world revolves around the sun—this would change everything. Life would change for the non-humans too. Suddenly, a channel would open up to communicate with the species that has stolen your land, slaughtered your ancestors, and made your life infinitely more difficult. What do you think they'd have to say to us?
George Orwell's book "Animal Farm" is a brilliant example. While it was an allegory for the Russian revolution—a very human conflict—the animals in the book show resentment towards humans, overthrowing the order that had long oppressed them and establishing one of their own. Throughout these debates about interspecies communication, humans need to remember that we're animals too. We can't let our desire for power and superiority undermine this fact.
Going forward, when you connect with animals—either your pets or the neighborhood squirrels—acknowledge your similarities rather than differences. Don't fall into the Orwellian trap that states, "All animals are created equal, but some are more equal than others." The possibility that we could one day talk to animals is incredible. Just think about all the knowledge we could learn from them. Fish could teach us more about the ocean than we'll ever be able to find out on our own. Birds could show us how to make better wings for flight. And of course, your pet will finally be able to tell you just how much they love you.
Sadly, none of this will ever be possible if we don't protect our animals. This is why I've teamed up with Planet Wild, an organization that works to restore global ecosystems to help tackle this problem. And you too can help by signing up for a subscription with Planet Wild. You help fund monthly missions to preserve our nature and wildlife. You can keep them accountable for every penny you contribute and come along on the journey as they release videos and reports detailing every single mission.
I absolutely love this because I get to see what exactly my money is doing and the kind of impact I'm making in our world. In their latest mission, they're using honeybees to save elephants and protect farmers' crops in Tanzania. If you're interested in joining Planet Wild, the first 200 people to sign up through this QR code or by clicking the link in the description and using code "aperture" will get their first month completely free. If you want to do some good in this world but don't know where to start, trust me, this is the perfect opportunity.