They challenge traditional notions of intelligence and consciousness from "summary" of The Soul of an Octopus by Sy Montgomery
The octopuses I have come to know challenge traditional notions of intelligence and consciousness. They are not like us; they are alien. Their very appearance - the lack of a skeleton, the multitude of arms that seem to have a mind of their own - sets them apart from any other creature on Earth. Yet, as I have spent time in their world, I have come to see that they are more complex, more sentient, than we give them credit for.
One octopus I met at the New England Aquarium, named Athena, was particularly adept at problem-solving. She could open jars, manipulate objects, even recognize individual humans. Watching her move, her arms reaching out with purpose, it was clear that there was something going on behind those eyes. Something that spoke to a deeper level of understanding, a consciousness that we may not fully grasp.
But it's not just their actions that challenge us. It's their very existence. The fact that an animal so different from us, so seemingly alien, can exhibit signs of intelligence and consciousness that rival our own. It forces us to reconsider what we think we know about the world, about ourselves, about what it means to be sentient.
As I delved deeper into the world of octopuses, I found that they are not just intelligent; they are emotional. They form bonds with humans, show signs of playfulness, even exhibit what appears to be a sense of humor. These are qualities that we have long thought to be uniquely human, yet here they are, staring back at us from the depths of the ocean.
In the end, what I have learned from the octopuses is that intelligence and consciousness are not binary, not limited to a select few species. They are fluid, existing in a multitude of forms, waiting to be discovered and understood. And in that discovery, we may just find that we are not so alone in our sentience after all.
