As humans pour their intellect into machines and anxiously await the day artificial intelligence stands on the podium as the smartest being on Earth, we may be overlooking another contender: animal intelligence. In fact, research into animal cognition might shift your concern from AI induced job loss to a more immediate threat – world domination by octopus.
Animal intelligence studies once took a very human centric approach. We judged a dolphin’s smarts by how well it could mimic our abilities, like counting to three. But of course a dolphin’s anatomy isn’t built to say “one, two, three,” it is built to produce clicks that let it echolocate objects with incredible precision. I’ve never met a human that can do that! Fortunately, animal intelligence research has come a long way. There is no longer one single test for “intelligence”. Instead, scientists focus on how well an animal solves problems within its own unique environment, a far more meaningful measure of what it means to be smart in the wild.
The Cunning Octopus
Octopuses could not live a more drastically different life to us humans. Yet, the way they approach problem solving and their incredible adaptability to their environment is undeniably intelligent. They are famously cheeky, using their nine brains to tackle life like no other. They are masters of disguise, going beyond simple camouflage, they can contort their bodies to convincingly mimic the shape and demeanor of other, more dangerous animals. Take the mimic octopus for example: it changes shape and colour to resemble unappetizing creatures like lionfish, sea snakes, flat fish or jellyfish. Like all great actors octopuses also use props from their surroundings to aid in their disguise. The veined octopus for example picks up two halves of a coconut shell and creeps along the seafloor, encased in the shell for protection. Any predator cruising past, would have no idea there is a juicy octopus hiding in the discarded coconut shell.
Keeping these clever clogs in an aquarium can prove very tricky as they are renowned escape artists. Octopuses have been caught on camera sneaking out of their tanks at night, eating fish in other tanks and returning to their own tanks by morning as if nothing ever happened. Furthermore, research has demonstrated their ability to solve complex puzzles and recognise individual people. One particularly dedicated person even managed to teach an octopus to play the piano! Another remarkable trait of the octopus is its solitary nature. Their parents die before the young even hatch, meaning they don’t learn any of their clever behaviors from parents or other octopuses, they figure it all out on their own. And they do all this with a lifespan of just one to two years. I only dare to imagine what they could accomplish in the life span of a human.
Mirrors and Mantas
Self awareness aka thinking about thinking about thinking that you can think, is considered a higher cognitive ability. Call it a blessing or a curse, humans are acutely aware of their own existence. This awareness has given rise to poetry, philosophy, art but also to self reflection and the drive to better ourselves. It is a pillar of what it means to be human. And yet, once again, we are not so special. Other animals are self aware too.
In a cleverly designed experiment, testing for self awareness, manta rays were placed in front of a mirror and their behaviour observed. When looking at themselves in the mirror, the rays did not exhibit behaviours associated with encountering another ray of their own kind. Instead they did things such as blow bubbles and inspect their bodies and spot patterns in the mirror as if testing to see if it was in fact their own reflection looking back at them.
Perhaps even more shocking than a manta ray recognizing itself in the mirror is that when put to the mirror test, the seemingly unremarkable cleaner wrasse is also capable of self-recognition and therefore may be self-aware.
Cetacean Culture
Family bonds, culture, and tradition are the very core of the human experience, yet we are not the only ones with these complex social dynamics; cetaceans seem to share them too. Even though these guys live in a very different environment to us humans, it is uncanny how their social dynamics seem to mirror ours in many ways.
Evolutionarily, species with rich social structures tend to have larger, more complex brains. Cetaceans are no exception to this rule. They hold the record for largest brain of any animal. And although size isn’t everything, when it comes to intelligence, brain size is often an indicator of higher cognitive ability. Whales and dolphins exhibit high parental investment, their young stay close by and learn from mum for up to years at the beginning of their lives. But as with humans, it takes a village, so beyond the mother, the wider family steps in, helping to teach, protect, and raise the next generation.
Sperm whales, holders of the largest brains of any animal on Earth (weighing up to 9kg!), live in gender segregated pods. Females remain together, forming tight knit groups where they collectively rear their young. As deep water hunters, mothers must disappear beneath the surface for long stretches in search of food, a risky time for a calf left alone in the shallows. Instead, when a mother dives, grandmothers and aunts take over baby sitting duty, standing guard and keeping the calf safe. To build and maintain these family bonds, whales must form trusting relationships, and just like in human relationships, in sperm whale society touch plays a powerful role in building trust. Sperm whale families frequently gather in long, gentle embraces, rubbing against one another as they drift together for hours in one big cuddle puddle.
The emotional capacity of cetaceans is undeniable when we look at how they acknowledge the death of a family member. Across species, cetaceans have been repeatedly observed responding to death in ways that go far beyond instinct. When a calf dies, mothers may carry the body for days or even weeks, balancing it on their rostrum, lifting it to the surface to breathe despite knowing it no longer can. This behavior is energetically costly and offers no survival benefit yet it is seen again and again. Pods often gather around a dead individual. They may swim slowly, vocalize less, or remain unusually quiet. Some groups linger in the same area long after a death, altering their normal travel patterns. This happens during mass strandings, even when freed, whales will beach themselves again, trying to save other members of their pod.
These are just a few examples of how animals display intelligence in the most remarkable ways. Through these windows of insight, it becomes evident how little we know of animal minds and how they relate to the world. How similar or dissimilar is theirs to ours? The plethora of unanswered questions fills one with excitement at the vast potential for what we have yet to learn.
