Let's begin this monologue with an observation about myself: I wouldn't say I have a personality that is instantly endearing to pets. When a dog or cat comes up to sniff me for the first time, I could just be any human. There is no instant connection, there's nothing special about my demeanor or identity that draws animals to me.
But in my experience, after I've spent time with animals, I form pretty strong friendships with them. I consider pets to be family, and I would say that pets of mine have all grown to consider me either a friend or a "family" member of sorts. People are impressed by how much pets like me.
I assure you that it is not a reflection of anything impressive about me. I am not special. I simply allow animals to interact with me on their terms. I respect them, and I listen to them, and they ultimately appreciate that. So, I'm well-liked by nonhumans who I've spent a lot of time with. Especially if we're talking about cats. Cats like me more than they like most people. Dogs are naturally social with humans, but cats have to build those social bonds from scratch.
I believe I understand how to interact with animals. I'd like to share specific heuristics for doing so, rules of thumb for what to do to understand your pet. As subtle as it is, I think I've done enough introspection about it, and I have enough education in cognitive science that I think I can do a good job explaining this.
So, if you want to "talk to animals", then this is your guide from a first generation immigrant who's slowly picking up the language. I'll discuss first how to listen appropriately, then how to convey what's on your mind.
Your first obstacle to communicating with animals is your belief that your current method of communication is of use. Realize that the way humans communicate is not how other animals communicate. To anybody but another human, your words mean nothing. Your gestures mean nothing. Your facial expressions mean nothing. These things are universal to humans, but they are not universal to animals.
Eye contact can be useful. Humans use it in a very peculiar way. It's very complex and there are many ways to speak with your eyes. We certainly share a lot in common with other species in this regard. However, if you've spend some time with cats, you'll notice that they don't make nearly as much eye contact as people do. Why is that? It's partly because they're probably not trying to communicate with you. They probably don't think you'll be receptive to whatever they have to say. Probably they're right. Also, where humans will initiate eye contact to obtain information, cats frequently just figure out that information through other means. That certainly has something to do with the fact that human intraspecies eye contact is, in most circumstances, accompanied by an exchange of language.
Currently, I live with four cats. Spork likes me, but he's really shy and kind of just comes out to chill every once in a while. He has his haunts around the house. And he'll kind of just look at me and I get that he's just being friendly. Angel is always being affectionate to everybody, meowing as a greeting, and looking at people to be closer to them. Her eye contact is also friendly, but she goes a step beyond Spork and is always cuddling earnestly, even if she is pretty clumsy and has stabbing issues. But being stabbed by Angel is almost too cute to get mad at.
Chevy and Oreo are somewhat more complicated. Chevy is a distinctly frustrated individual. He's very fat, and as a result can't clean himself or move about in the ways that he used to. He's usually very hungry and is always looking for food. Nobody ever gives him food, because it would be irresponsible to overfeed him. So he's very conscious of the fact that we are refusing to give him what he wants, and he's disgruntled. We can't for the life of us figure out how to make him happier in his new home of college students, but I haven't let up trying to be friendly to him. Despite his sometimes inflammatory antics, I always let him know that I'm receptive and friendly, and he's gone from swatting me when I walk by to craving my attention. He basically demands it whenever I'm around, and gets angry when I turn my back. The way he looks at me is much more critical. He'll stare at people, whether they're looking at him or not, and it seems to me like he's trying to figure us out. He's distrustful, for sure.
Oreo is, completely contrary to Chevy, very content and very social. She's very curious and often tries to figure out how the things around her work, even if those things have been around for the entire time she's stayed at this house. Some thought or observation will garner her attention and she'll investigate whatever's on her mind. When it comes to people, she feels right at home with strangers and has no fear of meeting new people. And recently, she's spent most of her time following me around, napping nearby, sitting on my lap, or perching on my chair. If a person were to ask me whether animals can love, Oreo's my proof that they most definitely do.
Above all, try earnestly to erase your preconceptions about what animals think and feel. One thing that you don't have to cast off, that will certainly come in handy, is your sense of empathy. Empathy will get you much farther than intuition.
The critical maneuver that I'm trying to perform is to alert you to what you might unwittingly be doing wrong, and how you should think about certain words in the context of nonverbal communication. When it comes to cognitive science, our intuition and our words are extremely limited. To effectively change the way you think, you have to understand which cognitive processes you're using to do something, which you should be using, and how to switch to the proper process. Learning something that's taken for granted, as you will have learned if you've tried picking up a foreign language after adolescence, is difficult.
Human-nonhuman communication is like two people with autism communicating with each other without language. (As I don't personally have autism, or a lot of experience with it, I hope that this comparison is useful enough to warrant the appropriation.) People who can't naturally read body language or facial expressions will often practice intensively and with much frustration to learn this act that others take for granted. You're in essentially the same position if you intend to communicate with nonhumans. If you don't have autism, imagine that you have autism, and let it sink in that you are completely blind to a rich framework of social interaction that could exist, if you were simply tuned in a little differently.
Go forth. Talk to animals. Go to a shelter and take in a stray. Build a family. Make friends. There is much happiness in life to be gotten from living with nonhumans and expressing one's self non-verbally. It may restore your faith in the human condition, and shake up your ideas about humanity's position in its environment.
Your first obstacle to communicating with animals is your belief that your current method of communication is of use. Realize that the way humans communicate is not how other animals communicate. To anybody but another human, your words mean nothing. Your gestures mean nothing. Your facial expressions mean nothing. These things are universal to humans, but they are not universal to animals.
Next, you have to be aware of your preconceptions about animal thoughts. Reflect on how you view animals, and what you imagine that they're thinking. Notice the ways in which you anthropomorphize animals, then make an earnest effort to understand why you anthropomorphize them in those ways. By anthropomorphize, I refer to instances where you intuit how a human would react to a given situation and assume that the animal is reacting in the same way. There are instances in which nonhumans and humans would react the same way. There are instances where they would not. There are additionally instances where they may react the same way but also feel and think differently about what's going on. Don't assume you're wrong about everything--assume that you need more evidence to have a solid "theory of mind" for the nonhuman you're trying to communicate with.
Listen. There's a lot to be gained from the sounds that animals make if you really try to understand their meaning. The sounds are usually made in conjunction with some meaningful body language, and almost always depend on context, so sounds are only useful when you're already in tune with what they're feeling.
Watch. The body language of an animal is extremely important. Like sounds, though, you'll have to spend some time learning what their behavior means. Read about what ethology, the study of animal behavior, has to say about the particular animal you're interacting with. Some body language is universal between species, and some of it is universal for a given species. Other mannerisms will have a different meaning for each individual. Unlike Language, body language does not comprise discrete symbols. It is analog, and we don't perceive gestures categorically.
In short, the biggest thing is to pay attention. The thing about communicating without language is that there are many subtleties that you have to figure out over time. You have to always be aware enough that you can perceive those subtleties, and you have to think critically about those subtleties so you can develop a foundation for understanding those subtleties in context. You have to be aware of an animal's posture, the time of month, their health, their preferences, their typical mannerisms, the sounds they're making, their relationship with humans and nonhumans in their environment. You need background knowledge so you can understand the things that members of a species already have in common. The overall picture is one that you must piece together with logic and reason--those faculties that we often say are the domain of humanity alone--instead of relying on your intuition. Until you develop a knack for reading a particular animal's thoughts, your intuition is not going to help much. When you rely on your "intuition", you're effectively relying on "instinct".
It's human instinct to give social attention to humans. It's rhino instinct to give social attention to rhinos. Unless you give them a reason to think of you as a social cohort, no nonhuman is going to think of you as anything more than a figure of authority, or just some animal. To them, you are just an animal. They have their own social hierarchy in their own species, unless they have a reason to think that you're important to them. You can do this by trying to interact with them using a form of communication that they understand.
How does one convey something to to an animal? What if you want to express a sentiment in a situation where you would typically use words?
Keep in mind that, while language is a way of efficiently transferring data from one brain to another, it is only a vessel. The thoughts that underlie those verbal expressions are more fundamental than words. There are always other ways to convey those thoughts. Sometimes you'll have to be creative, because a thought can be hard to convey without a code. You'll have more success with this when you've developed a relationship where the two of you understand each others' peculiarities. Once you are in touch emotionally, you'll both be more receptive to each other's expressions.
Be quiet. Language makes communication fast. Without language, many methods of communication are necessarily slow and deliberate. A lot happens in nonverbal communication without sound, so don't distract yourself or your conversational partner with meaningless noises. They'll only act to confuse whoever you're trying to interact with. Prosody in speech is a way of inflecting the meaning of the words and phrases in a sentence, but it doesn't have intrinsic meaning. Tone has some meaning, but the utterances that humans make are acoustically quite different from the vocalizations that nonhumans make, and therefore take some time to discern.
Be forgiving. Humans have the tendency to be authoritarian pet owners. Regardless of whether this is a good thing, being a strict disciplinarian entails having a very normative outlook. If you're always yelling at a pet for doing what's wrong, they are likely to get confused. Think about how you learn things. When a pet is doing something you don't want them to do, they might be seeing their own actions in an entirely different light. Maybe they think it's really important and your chastisement only makes them indignant. Maybe they believe they're doing two things at once, and the "bad" thing is much less salient to them? Because they might have no reason to think either of their actions is wrong, they might assume that the other, completely innocuous thing is what you're calling wrong.
This is also important to keep in mind because you have an immense amount of power over these animals. Think of the contemporary discussion about privilege. Some people have power and privilege, and they should recognize that so that they can use it responsibly and work towards eliminating systems that perpetuate privilege. In the case of pets, it's ethically ambiguous whether it's a good thing or not. But even if you aren't going to work towards ending pet ownership, you should recognize the power dynamic between you and any nonhuman in a human household. Realize that constant reminders of being subordinate must be strenuous for certain individuals. If they are sensitive about their dignity, then you might very well be hurting them with your jokes. Pets don't like to be made fun of. Many people unwittingly bully their pets by splashing water at them, laughing at them, pushing them around, picking them up while they're expressing their anger, showing their authority in more...
When they're on the defensive, they're very keen on social environments, body language, the tone of a verbal exchange, etc. They can be put on the defensive much more easily than a human, and it's completely within their rights to feel what they feel. In a world that doesn't give much consideration to what animals feel, a pet should at least be able to expect compassion and respect from their owner.
Rethink physical contact. Don't just mindlessly pet your pet. You can communicate emotion effectively with touch. You can use physical contact to admonish, to praise, to show affection, to protect, et cetera. Treat this medium as a way to convey meaning rather than just a habit. Additionally, physical contact is not always desired! Think about the contemporary arguments against rape culture and patriarchy. Sometimes, the subject of your affection does not want your affection, and sometimes those you care about are not in the mood for your attention. Give animals the space they want, whether they be human or nonhuman.
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| Awkward photograph. |
Eye contact can be useful. Humans use it in a very peculiar way. It's very complex and there are many ways to speak with your eyes. We certainly share a lot in common with other species in this regard. However, if you've spend some time with cats, you'll notice that they don't make nearly as much eye contact as people do. Why is that? It's partly because they're probably not trying to communicate with you. They probably don't think you'll be receptive to whatever they have to say. Probably they're right. Also, where humans will initiate eye contact to obtain information, cats frequently just figure out that information through other means. That certainly has something to do with the fact that human intraspecies eye contact is, in most circumstances, accompanied by an exchange of language.
Currently, I live with four cats. Spork likes me, but he's really shy and kind of just comes out to chill every once in a while. He has his haunts around the house. And he'll kind of just look at me and I get that he's just being friendly. Angel is always being affectionate to everybody, meowing as a greeting, and looking at people to be closer to them. Her eye contact is also friendly, but she goes a step beyond Spork and is always cuddling earnestly, even if she is pretty clumsy and has stabbing issues. But being stabbed by Angel is almost too cute to get mad at.
Chevy and Oreo are somewhat more complicated. Chevy is a distinctly frustrated individual. He's very fat, and as a result can't clean himself or move about in the ways that he used to. He's usually very hungry and is always looking for food. Nobody ever gives him food, because it would be irresponsible to overfeed him. So he's very conscious of the fact that we are refusing to give him what he wants, and he's disgruntled. We can't for the life of us figure out how to make him happier in his new home of college students, but I haven't let up trying to be friendly to him. Despite his sometimes inflammatory antics, I always let him know that I'm receptive and friendly, and he's gone from swatting me when I walk by to craving my attention. He basically demands it whenever I'm around, and gets angry when I turn my back. The way he looks at me is much more critical. He'll stare at people, whether they're looking at him or not, and it seems to me like he's trying to figure us out. He's distrustful, for sure.
Oreo is, completely contrary to Chevy, very content and very social. She's very curious and often tries to figure out how the things around her work, even if those things have been around for the entire time she's stayed at this house. Some thought or observation will garner her attention and she'll investigate whatever's on her mind. When it comes to people, she feels right at home with strangers and has no fear of meeting new people. And recently, she's spent most of her time following me around, napping nearby, sitting on my lap, or perching on my chair. If a person were to ask me whether animals can love, Oreo's my proof that they most definitely do.
Above all, try earnestly to erase your preconceptions about what animals think and feel. One thing that you don't have to cast off, that will certainly come in handy, is your sense of empathy. Empathy will get you much farther than intuition.
The critical maneuver that I'm trying to perform is to alert you to what you might unwittingly be doing wrong, and how you should think about certain words in the context of nonverbal communication. When it comes to cognitive science, our intuition and our words are extremely limited. To effectively change the way you think, you have to understand which cognitive processes you're using to do something, which you should be using, and how to switch to the proper process. Learning something that's taken for granted, as you will have learned if you've tried picking up a foreign language after adolescence, is difficult.
Human-nonhuman communication is like two people with autism communicating with each other without language. (As I don't personally have autism, or a lot of experience with it, I hope that this comparison is useful enough to warrant the appropriation.) People who can't naturally read body language or facial expressions will often practice intensively and with much frustration to learn this act that others take for granted. You're in essentially the same position if you intend to communicate with nonhumans. If you don't have autism, imagine that you have autism, and let it sink in that you are completely blind to a rich framework of social interaction that could exist, if you were simply tuned in a little differently.
Go forth. Talk to animals. Go to a shelter and take in a stray. Build a family. Make friends. There is much happiness in life to be gotten from living with nonhumans and expressing one's self non-verbally. It may restore your faith in the human condition, and shake up your ideas about humanity's position in its environment.
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