Animals communicate with each other, and sometimes with us. But that’s where the similarity between animals and us ends, as Jason Goldman explains.
When Alex unexpectedly passed away after only thirty-one years of life,
his last words to his dearest friend were, "You be good. See you
tomorrow. I love you." A touching sentiment indeed, but all the more
impressive because Alex was an African Grey Parrot.
What is language and what are the chances you ever get on the same wavelength with your pet?
Over the course of thirty years of work between psychologist Irene
Pepperberg and Alex, purchased from a Chicago pet store at one year of
age, the parrot amassed a vocabulary of some 150 words. According to one report,
he was able to recognize fifty different objects, could count
quantities up to six, and could distinguish among seven colours and five
shapes. He also understood the ideas of "bigger" and "smaller", and
"same" and "different".
Alex isn’t the only non-human to display
such talents. Kanzi is a 31-year-old male bonobo who lives in a small
social group with others of his species at the Great Ape Trust
in Des Moines, Iowa. Bonobos, together with chimpanzees, are our
closest living relatives. After years of working with primatologist Sue
Savage-Rumbaugh, Kanzi can now understand several thousand words, and
can communicate using a kind of keyboard that contains around 400 visual symbols called lexigrams.
Then there's Rico,
a border collie who knows the labels of around 200 different items, and
can retrieve them on command. Compared to Alex and Kanzi, this might
not seem particularly impressive or interesting. However, Rico can learn
the label of an item that he's never seen before after only hearing the
word once. If there are 20 items in front of him, 19 of which he
already knows the labels for, and he is instructed to retrieve an item
using a word he had never heard before, Rico can infer that the
unfamiliar item matches with the unfamiliar word. Weeks later, he still
remembers the pairing. This process of word-learning, called
fast-mapping, is identical to the process through which young children
learn new words.
Not to be outdone by the
feathered or furry, there’s the female Atlantic bottlenose dolphins
Akeakamai and Phoenix who lived at the Kewalo Basin Marine Mammal
Laboratory in Honolulu, Hawaii. A famous paper by marine biologist Louis Herman
and colleagues in 1984 described Akeakamai and Phoenix's abilities to
understand sentences in visual or acoustic artificial languages.
The
researchers gave the dolphins instructions constructed entirely of
familiar words, but in various combinations that would only be
understood by knowing the grammar of the sentences, not just the
vocabulary. For example, "Phoenix Akeakamai Over" was an instruction for
Phoenix to swim to Akeakamai and jump over her, while "Akeakamai
Surfboard Fetch Speaker" instructed Akeakamai to get the surfboard and
bring it to the speaker. In each case the dolphin had to interpret the
verb "over" or "fetch" according to the noun: did "fetch" apply to the
surfboard or to the speaker, for instance?
Language barrier
Primates, birds, cetaceans,
dogs and other species have proven able, through extensive training, to
understand human words and simple sentences. And as Ed Yong explained, in some exceptional cases, such as Kanzi and Alex, they've even been able to engage in two-way communication with humans.
However,
language is more than a process through which meaning is attached to
words or short sentences. Language might be described as the ability to
take a finite set of elements (such as words), and using a set of rules
(grammar and syntax) to create infinite combinations, each of which is
comprehensible. Given this definition, it is perhaps not surprising then
that cognitive psychologists sometimes speak of a "grammar of action".
Like
sentences, the catalogue of human actions is infinite. We stretch,
bend, and kick. We build bridges and prepare meals. We perform an
endless variety of dance routines. We make paper airplanes. A complex
action, like hammering a nail, can be broken down into its constituent
actions – grasping, striking, reaching – just as a sentence can be
broken into its units – nouns, verbs, adjectives. In 1951, cognitive
psychologist Karl Lashley proposed a link between language and action. [...]
What is language, then, if it can describe the way we process actions
as well as the way we manipulate words? Understand from this
perspective, language is not a method of communication, per se, but a
rather method of computation. Other animals clearly communicate with one
another, sometimes in fairly elaborate ways. Whale sing, monkeys howl,
birds chirp. Lizards bob their heads up and down to communicate, and
some squid do it by regulating the colouration of their skin cells. But
none of these processes can be explained by language.
What makes
human language unique is not that it allows us to communicate with each
other, but that it allows us to do so with infinite variety. A monkey
can scream to warn its troopmates of an approaching predator, or alert
them to a cache of tasty food, but it can't communicate something like
"doesn't that hawk have a funny looking beak?" or "with a little salt,
this fig would taste divine". It certainly can't create nonsensical yet
understandable sentences like “Colourless green ideas sleep furiously”.
No, only humans can utter that sort of grammatical nonsense.
For source go here.
No comments:
Post a Comment