Jane Goodall, animal cognition, and recognition for Félicette the Astrocat

Let’s start by meeting Ken Allen. He was incredibly adept at his job, and led a peaceful life. Liked and respected by his local community, he achieved fame as an escape artist, demonstrating forward thinking skills and dexterity. Even as an adolescent, Ken displayed the aptitude with mechanical skills that would serve him well as an adult. Admired by his fans, he passed away in 2000 at the young age of 29.

Oh, and I forgot to mention, Ken Allen was not a person, he was a Bornean orangutan. Dubbed the ‘Hairy Houdini’ by the local media, Ken escaped captivity from San Diego zoo nine times from 1985 till the late 1990s. After climbing what were thought to be escape-proof walls, he would wander around the zoo like a tourist.

He was never aggressive or violent towards any human or animal. Well, just once, when he threw rocks at another orangutan Otis, the latter known to be obnoxious and unpleasant to other animals and humans. Zookeepers were constantly amazed at Ken Allen’s ingenuity. He could unscrew bolts, remember the location of pathways to follow, and even enlisted the support of other orangutans.

The zoo authorities provided Ken with three females, hoping to divert Ken’s energies from wanderlust to just plain sexual lust. They were wrong. One of his female companions found a crowbar left behind by a zoo worker; she opened a window and Ken climbed through it in yet another escape.

Zoo keepers went ‘undercover’, posing as tourists in the hopes of finding out how exactly Ken was escaping. The other orangutans, and Ken, spotted the zoo agents. Lulling them into a false sense of security, Ken would stage elaborate wall climbing ‘escape attempts’, thus fooling the zoo agents to relax their guard. Ken, increasingly aided and abetted by orangutan accomplices, would carry out the real escape days later.

Sadly, Ken was diagnosed with a type of cancer – lymphoma – and euthanised in 2000. His exploits as an escape artist provide us with an interesting insight into animal cognition. Can our primate cousins understand the world the way we do? Certainly Ken demonstrated a level of planning, tool use and perception sophisticated enough to outsmart the San Diego zoo authorities.

Jane Goodall (1934 – 2025), the English primatologist, passed away in October this year. Multiple commentaries have elaborated her astonishing career and accomplishments as a scientist, a woman in a male-dominated field. Let’s highlight a few of the ways she made us rethink our relationship with primates.

Rather than mindless, brutish simpletons, our primate cousins display in basic form the emotional and social complexities that humans navigate every day. For instance, chimpanzees and gorillas have used tools, experience emotional states, and form webs of interrelationships. Goodall made us consider the emotional and social lives of primates, even in their embryonic form. We can see them demonstrate what we regard as intelligence.

Animal cognition is not the exclusive preserve of primates; there is a growing and extensive body of literature documenting and exploring the realm of cephalopod intelligence. Cephalopods are a class of marine animals which include squid, cuttlefish and octopus. The latter, a marine invertebrate, seems like an unusual candidate for the study of animal cognition. Yet, there are numerous documentary specials and biological studies examining the remarkable smarts of the octopus.

The octopus not only has eight tentacles, but nine brains. These brains, rather than located in one spot, operate as a distributed network of information gathering and processing centres. Octopuses are known to have used coconut shells as protection from predators, even using corals as a defensive shield. In captivity, they have been observed opening jar lids to extract food, even escaping through gaps in the water pipes, swimming hundreds of metres to an open ocean.

The octopus, unlike other molluscs, lost its protective shell millions of years ago. Without it, the soft flesh of the octopus became vulnerable to predators. Compensating for this loss, the octopus had to rely on developing street smarts, so to speak, outmanoeuvring its hunters. The octopus did have defence mechanisms before it lost its shell, to be certain. But that crucial change provided an enormous boost to the development of cephalopod intelligence.

While being solitary creatures, octopuses display moods and emotional reactions – hiding under rocks being shy, but also curious and attempting interactions with observers or objects in their vicinity.

We cannot conclude our exploration into the world of animal cognition without paying our respects to C341 – the number assigned to Félicette, the first cat to survive a journey into space. Long forgotten in the rough and tumble Cold War competition for spaceflight supremacy, Félicette was a stray cat launched into space by the French authorities in 1963.

From the 1950s onwards, scientists wanted to study the effects of space travel and cosmic radiation on living organisms. Both the US and USSR had sent mammals on cosmic journeys; the most famous was that of Laika the dog in 1957.

Launched into space on Sputnik-2 by the Soviets, she became world famous for this mission. However, at that time, there was no technology for reentry to Earth. The Moscow space scientists knew that Laika’s first voyage would be her last. She died in space.

Félicette was one of 13 stray cats recruited into the French space medicine agency, the Centre d’Enseignement et de Recherches de Médecine Aéronautique (CERMA). Passing a rigorous training programme, Félicette was selected to be the first cat launched by France into space.

The mission was launched from the Sahara, French Algeria in October 1963. Félicette passed the Karman line, the technical boundary between the upper reaches of the Earth’s atmosphere and outer space. Lasting 15 minutes, Félicette spent a longer time in space than Katy Perry and her glitzy friends.

Scientists back on Earth were monitoring the cat’s heart rate, breathing and other vitals through electrodes implanted in her body. The capsule carrying Félicette detached from the rocket, and parachuted safely back to Earth. She had made history for the French space programme.

A few months after she completed her mission, Félicette was euthanised so the scientists could examine her brain for any impact from cosmic radiation. What they learned from the autopsy is exactly nothing. She was gone, and forgotten – well, not quite.

In 2019, a bronze statue of the intrepid feline was unveiled at the International Space University near Strasbourg, France. It depicts sitting atop the Earth. She takes her place among the other animals sacrificed for space exploration.

Studying animal cognition and behaviour will hopefully lead to a better understanding of ourselves, our relationship with the natural world, an equip us with the skills to comprehend the subjective experience of our animal relatives.

The lessons of the Holocaust, the Nuremberg trials and the violence against the Gaza Palestinians today

This month, 80 years ago, the Nuremberg trials began. What were they and why are they important as a starting point for the current article? In brief, the trials were a series of international military tribunals formed for the express purpose of prosecuting the top Nazi German politicians, military commanders and economic leaders for the crimes they committed in pursuit of aggressive predatory warfare.

The victorious allies – the US, Britain, France and the USSR – agreed to form a tribunal, assembling irrefutable evidence of Nazi atrocities, such as the extermination of European Jews, exploiting forced labour in concentration camps, and systematic violence directed at civilian populations. Indictments were filed against the main Nazi defendants in October 1945, and trial itself commenced in November.

The network of concentration camps established by the Nazi hierarchy was extensively documented, and its inner workings were elaborated in full detail. The horrific nature of these camps constituted a powerful indictment of Nazi atrocities.

Let us now examine an irony of history.

In 1945, British soldiers, among others, helped to liberate the Bergen-Belsen concentration camp complex in northern Germany. Originally a prisoner of war camp, it was expanded during the war to accommodate civilian prisoners. The full horrors of the place, the use of forced labour, mass starvation of prisoners, the sadistic beatings of inmates by SS guards, were publicised to highlight the crimes of the Nazis.

Only a few years after that, the British military and colonial authorities in Kenya, established a nation-wide network of internment camps, where Kenyans were held without trial, subjected to inhumane torture, and used as forced labour.

The British military was waging an anticolonial counterinsurgency against the Kikuyu nation, and its military wing, the Mau Mau. The English took civilians as hostages, a practice that had been condemned as a crime against humanity at the Nuremberg trials.

In our own times, the genocidal violence inflicted by the Israeli military on the Palestinians, and the US invasion of Iraq in 2003, constitute grievous crimes against humanity. Millions were killed and displaced, and many more Iraqis and Palestinians are still suffering. The perpetrators of these crimes, the politicians whose decisions led to these criminal actions, remain free and unaccountable.

Multiple human rights and nongovernmental organisations are explicitly stating that Israel’s actions in Gaza constitute genocide. I am not making this up; no, I am not motivated by a homicidal antisemitism. Numerous scholarly and mainstream organisations, such as Amnesty International, Doctors Without Borders, (Medicins sans Frontieres) are all collecting evidence that the Israeli government, and its military forces, are guilty of genocide in Palestine.

Omer Bartov, a professor of Holocaust and genocide studies and former Israeli military officer, arrives at the inescapable conclusion that Israel is committing genocide. His article ‘I’m a Genocide Scholar. I Know It When I See It’ is worth reading in its entirety.

We should always be cautious when applying serious terms, like the word genocide, to a given situation. There is no disputing the unspeakable horrors of the Holocaust. The immediate results of the 1945-46 Nuremberg trials were to establish a framework of international laws and rules by which all states (and nonstate forces for that matter) must comply when dealing with each other, and their respective populations.

We must continue to teach the lessons of the Holocaust, so that future generations never forget. The phrase Never Again is certainly one way of sensitising ourselves against those who would repeat the crimes of the past.

The Nuremberg trials, and the subsequent Nuremberg proceedings, established a precedent where individual military officers, politicians, and businesspeople could be held to account for crimes against humanity.

The subsequent Nuremberg trials, held by the International Military Tribunal, prosecuted second-level Nazis, and those in the wider business community who assisted and actively participated in the commission of crimes against humanity. For instance, one of those trials – out of a series of twelve – charged German doctors and administrators with conducting inhumane medical experiments on concentration camp inmates, without their consent.

One of the main defendants at the original Nuremberg trials with Arthur Seyss-Inquart (1892 – 1946), an Austrian-born Nazi and Reichskommisar (Reich commissioner) of German-occupied Netherlands. He was basically the governor of the Netherlands for Germany. When the Dutch resisted his rule, he cut off the supply of food and coal (the latter used for fuel) as collective punishment.

The 1944-45 winter is known as the Hunger Winter. Intentionally starving large portions of the Netherlands, thousands died of malnutrition and freezing. The effects of this human-made famine are still examined by medical professionals and historians today. Dutch authorities commemorate – if that is the right word – that particularly painful chapter in their nation’s history out of respect to the victims.

Seyss-Inquart was convicted of crimes against humanity, sentenced to death and hanged in 1946.

The BBC, hardly a bastion of leftist propaganda, published an article in August this year detailing how Israel’s actions have resulted in a human-induced famine in Gaza. Citing spiralling rates of child malnutrition and poverty, the situation for the Palestinians is dire. Who are the Israeli politicians and military commanders responsible for this crime? Who are the Israeli equivalents of Seyss-Inquart?

Let us perform a revealing comparison when it comes to the treatment of genocide. This examination owes its origin to Caitlin Johnstone, a political writer. There is no shortage of condemnations of the genocidal atrocities committed by the Sudanese Rapid Support Forces (RSF). The massacres carried out by this murderous militia are plain for all the world to see.

The United Arab Emirates (UAE) is a major funder and military ally of the RSF. The UAE receives extensive financial and military backing from the United States. Numerous American politicians have been able to draw the dots – the US is complicit in the genocidal actions of the Darfur-based paramilitary group.

No-one has lost their job because they denounced the RSF. No-one been canceled or silenced for speaking out about the genocidal RSF. No-one has faced an army of online trolls, hysterically accusing the anti-genocide voices of being hateful, or propaganda tools of a foreign power, or apologists for racial hatred.

Yet pro-Palestine advocates face precisely that kind of sustained, organised political pressure. And there are academics who have lost their jobs for speaking up about Palestine.

The state that claims to be the inheritor of the victims of the Holocaust has been misusing and repurposing the memory of the dead to insulate itself from any and all criticism. If the phrase Never Again is to have any meaning and relevance today, it must be applicable to all victims of genocide, including the Palestinians.

Is there an age or year of your life you would re-live?

Is there an age or year of your life you would re-live?

There is no specific year or age I would choose to re-live, because every year has its achievements as well as its challenges. However, to answer the question above, let’s specify particular experiences from different ages and years that have remained with me as impactful and significant.

I would re-live being a founder of the junior high school debating team. From the age of about 11 or 12 until 15, I was a participant on the debating team every week. Being of introverted disposition, I had to overcome my fear of public speaking, and channel my energies into making a coherent argument in front of an audience.

When I say audience, that usually consisted of only ten or twenty people. Every week, we would debate other schools in a friendly competition. Either taking the affirmative or negative, I would help to construct a persuasive case for our side.

My voice broke over the course of the debating years, and the teachers noticed that I had matured from a nervous, gangly youth into a more experienced person. Those years of experience made me unafraid to speak in front of large crowds; in subsequent years, I have addressed thousands of people at demonstrations and political gatherings.

No, you do not have to possess any supernatural or magical powers to be an effective public speaker. No, you do not require the intellect of an Einstein or Hawking to get up and speak in front of an audience. Just know that everyone in the audience is just a person, and do not worry so much about what they may think.

Indeed, when I was 14, I got to added the entire school population, teaching faculty and visiting clergy in the main chapel next to our school. While the nerves were there, I stood up to the microphone and saw hundreds of faces, both adolescent and adult, looking at me.

Taking a deep breath, I began the first sentence. Just get that far, I thought. Then the next sentence. Before I knew it, to was speaking to the crowd. How did I know I was successful? The main guest of honour at this event, the new archbishop, (the special mass was held to welcome him), got up and made a joke after I had finished. The mood relaxed – and I kept that memory for inspiration.

The years at university were wonderful, involving the free-flowing exchange of ideas about politics, philosophy, psychology, history and economics. The humanities curriculum was difficult but rewarding. If I could re-live those years, I would compose a better transitional programme from high school to university.

The changeover from the largely carefree days of senior high school to university was a challenging transition. Apart from a guidebook from the universities and colleges admission organisation, we never received any guidance about transitioning from high school to higher education.

Students from immigrant families can find the transition to university particularly difficult, navigating two languages and cultural traditions. In recent years, tertiary education institutions have made a greater effort to provide a pathway for students from non-English speaking backgrounds (NESB) to integrate into university life.

The parents of NESB children, because of language and cultural barriers, feel a bit lost in trying to help their children transition to university. No, I am not suggesting that parents did not support me going to university – far from it. When I graduated, my late father was so happy, he was jumping out of his skin. I had never seen my normally quiet, mild-mannered father react that way – i thought he was going to do cartwheels. I was very glad that he was happy.

If I could re-live that transition experience, I would provide a structured pathway, or recommend a program, for high school students to make the difficult jump from school to university.

In a way, the impact of artificial intelligence (AI) in current times recapitulates the issues we confronted back in the 1980s and 90s when computerisation was implemented on a societal scale. The changeover from reliance on paper to widespread computerisation was, in a sense, good preparation for the current increasing ubiquity of AI. How does this new technology impact our way of thinking, our relationships, our social lives, our shopping habits?

Witnessing the rise of AI – or rather, having AI shoved down our throats – is making us re-live the original era of personal and office computer expansion. While I can see the benefits of using AI to perform the menial tasks, removing drudgery, I would question whether it is necessary for every single person to have AI on their mobile phone.

How we respond to AI, and the problems it raises, provides a feeling of deja vu – we are re-living all the questions we asked when the age of computerisation began. I hope that humanity has enough wisdom and learns from the experience to implement AI in a way that supports human connection, rather than enabling the tech giants to make us outsource our cognitive faculties to the algorithm.