A comment by a reader prompted a more elaborate response than could be produced in a response comment. So here is the comment:
Okay, I am an animal lover, and especially of dolphins, who love to gang-tackle (catch the euphemism) their females.
And there is no doubt that other sub-language, sub-human animals, like dolphins, have more to their psyche (I mean that in the original Greek sense of moving-animating substance) than is usually assumed, especially in our stupid, computer oriented times.
That said, a mammal playing with bubbles, however perfect and frolicsome, does not compare to humanity at its peak–Chopin playing with subtle chord variations, Monet playing with subtle color variations, Nietzsche playing with subtle word echoes, etc., etc.
I love my dolphins and would not eat their meat. But the same complexity as homo sapiens at their most complex? More evidence besides bubbles, Mr. Scientist.
Thought 1:
And there is no doubt that other sub-language, sub-human animals, like dolphins…
This comment has a lot of implications. The suffix “sub” implies a lower standard or level to begin with, both under “language” and then under “human.” We humans do not know if other “animals” have language. There is evidence that primates have language, but there is even stronger evidence that cetaceans have language. The whistles and clicks we can hear have been analyzed by researchers for years and they have detected patterns. Furthermore, the bandwidth of the sonar capabilities of cetaceans is much larger than that of humans, so there is a lot of variation on the ultrasonic scale that we can’t access without instruments. I have also read of a study (and I must apologize that I cannot find the reference anymore now) where dolphins in two separated tanks, only connected through a telephonic link, were able to replicate complex behaviors without ever being together. This would imply that one dolphin can tell another solely through sound to do something specific that the other has never done before. I admit that this might not be “evidence” of language, but it would certainly qualify as a strong indicator and warrant more research.
Thought 2:
That said, a mammal playing with bubbles, however perfect and frolicsome, does not compare to humanity at its peak–Chopin playing with subtle chord variations, Monet playing with subtle color variations, Nietzsche playing with subtle word echoes, etc., etc.
Coming out of my comments on thought 1 above, I would venture to say that cetaceans with their far larger sonic bandwidth, both in range in both directions beyond the human range, as well as in resolution, could not only understand subtle chord variations by Chopin and others, but are probably using them every day in their own songs. As far as Monet, and colors, we can assume that cetaceans do not have the ability to see as well as humans, based on their environment, but their echolocation capabilities indicate immense capacity to see using an entirely different process than is even available to us humans. Since this comment references human art forms, and applies anthropomorphic standards to cetaceans, I might just suggest that since we do not even have the senses to detect echolocation signals and our sonar sensors are so limited, that if there were cetacean art forms based on sonar, we simply couldn’t even detect them, let alone appreciate them.
So assume for a moment that a dolphin is indeed as complex in thought as a human, and if there were art based on sonar, a dolphin would view humans terribly poor by artistic standards, because it simply could not even perceive what a Monet painting was, let alone analyze it. If I dolphin were to try to communicate through its art to a human, it would think of the human as a dull brute.
Thought 3:
I love my dolphins and would not eat their meat. But the same complexity as homo sapiens at their most complex? More evidence besides bubbles, Mr. Scientist.
I have often stated that humans, should they ever come into direct contact with extraterrestrials, would be terribly ill-equipped to communicate even in the simplest form. Here we live right next to a friendly “extraterrestrial” species of intelligence, one that is tens of millions of years older than we are one we can touch (at least in the pools of Sea World), see, interact with, hear and one that we have common DNA with. And yet, we haven’t exchanged a single thought.
The skeptic might say it’s because there is no thought in cetaceans. I say that it’s because we simply don’t have equipment in our own limited thought capabilities to make the connection, and they don’t either.
Conclusion:
Are my comments in this post science? Of course not. I leave the science to the scientists. But I follow the advances, I marvel at our what I really think sentient brothers in the oceans, and if I were 18 again, I might well take this up as my chosen field of study. I am excited about it.