I think most of us would agree that octopuses are intelligent.
YouTube is awash with clips of them navigating though complex puzzles, usually in search of some tasty morsel. Just like aquatic squirrels. On steroids.
Astonishingly, your average octopus is not averse to leaving water altogether, if the opportunity arises. As far back as 1875, researchers found intrepid jail-breakers lifting the lids of their tanks, crawling across the floor, slipping into neighbouring tanks, snatching fish and then carefully retracing their steps... trying to conceal their activities in a way that would leave Andy Dufresne happily hugging his rock hammer.
Of course, they have many other incredible qualities. With lightning-fast changes of skin colour and texture, effective camouflage isn't a problem. And if lunch is proving hard to come by, they will team-up with other creatures - including predatory fish - to increase the chances of a successful hunt. The Blanket Octopus has even learnt to use the highly venomous tentacles of the Portuguese Man O'War as a weapon, wielding them like spiked clubs in a Mad Max movie.
But perhaps the most stunning thing of all is the fact that octopuses have distinct personalities and perhaps even a sense of humour.
There's certainly no doubting their ability to recognise and remember human faces, such that people they like to interact with (as friends or enemies) can expect a well-aimed jet of water whenever they pass by the tank. Occasionally, tentacles are used to lash out at unsuspecting fish... the very definition of a sucker-punch, you might say.
Why would they do such a thing? It might simply be a case of reinforcing their dominance over other predators, especially when food is scare. Or they might just think it's funny.
Is this taking things too far? A case of attributing human characteristics to dumb animals?
Not if you've seen the documentary 'The Octopus in My House'. It's hard to dismiss the strength of the bond eight-legged Heidi forms with two-legged marine biologist David Sheel, and his daughter Laurel. Watching as the cephalopod affectionately wraps its tentacles around Laurel's arms and then shares TV time with her family is a strangely wondrous experience, and it speaks volumes of Heidi's innate intelligence.
Recognition that octopuses were not just conscious but capable of feeling emotions, such as pain and pleasure, led to their inclusion in the UK's 'Animal Welfare (Sentience) Act,' which passed its final hurdle in April 2022. It is now accepted that they are as smart as a 3-year old child. And a lot less annoying.
It hardly seems ridiculous to suggest that we should carve out a safe and secure niche for these animals, inside which they can be nurtured, studied and valued for the unique qualities they bring to our world. However, those with an urge for unbridled exploitation of our natural resources are reluctant to make any exceptions, even for a being with nine brains, three hearts and blue blood.
Enter Nueva Pescanova, a Spanish multinational that recently submitted proposals for the world's first octopus farm, on the shores of the Canary Islands.
If approved, this farm will raise and slaughter around one million of octopuses each year, using techniques that (according to the company's own studies) are so harmful up to 15% of their 'stock' will die before reaching maturity. Why so many? Because octopuses placed under extreme stress resort to cannibalism and self-mutilation.
Those that do reach adulthood will be killed slowly, by immersion in iced water - a method of suffocation that has already been proven to cause considerable distress to fish and is now shunned by some UK supermarkets.
What's more, most species of octopus like to live alone and in the dark. Conversely, the farm will force many hundreds into communal tanks, and subject them to round-the-clock lighting, in the search for increased growth rates.
Nueva Pescanova maintains that its proposals are not cruel, and commercial farming is a necessary step in beginning to alleviate the huge pressure on natural populations of octopuses, which are being culled at the rate of 250,000 tonnes per year. Indeed, the company is so impressed with this line of logic that - and you can't make this stuff up - it's applying for an EU grant, under a scheme that was introduced to help foster greener economies.
But it simply isn't greener. Quite the reverse. For instance, the farm will depend on provision of a fish-rich diet, inevitably increasing the pressure on natural fish stocks.
Misguided economic arguments are one thing. There are also wider moral - one might even say philosophical - issues to consider.
Over the past few decades, a dominant theme in Western science has been the gradual revelation of underlying depth and complexity in systems (and organisms) that were previously assumed to be relatively simplistic and predictable. In short, we know far, far less than we like to think and are extremely reluctant to admit it.
Or, to paraphrase Donald Rumsfeld: while we might have some awareness of the known unknowns (the total number of near-Earth asteroids waiting to slam into us, for example), we are, by definition, clueless as to the unknown unknowns. These are the complete mysteries that lie in wait, somewhere down the road, concealed in utter darkness, ready to leap out like a rutting deer onto the bonnet of a Robin Reliant.
Examples of our misguided confidence are two a penny. The results of the Large Hadron Collider continue to defy all expectations of a reality built on 'super symmetry'. Every time the James Webb Telescope points and clicks, another pillar of cosmology starts to wobble. Birds may well be using a quantum mechanical compasses to navigate along their migration paths (not Ordinance Survey maps), while plants are almost certainly using an equally bizarre effect, known as quantum coherence, to make photosynthesis work. Meanwhile, the smallest amoeba protect themselves by building tiny homes out of grains of sand.
And all the while, seems that nothing in the universe is 'locally real' - an innocuous phrase that actually means particles do not have inherent, objective qualities, nor do they occupy specific locations, until you take a measurement (or make an 'observation'). They're all potentiality and no actuality. They're everywhere and nowhere. Baby.
How can we think for one minute that we have a concrete grasp on any aspect of reality?
It's eminently possible that octopuses, along with many (perhaps most) other animals, will turn out to be intelligent in ways we do not currently understand, with emotions and levels of cognisance that will leave our descendants bemused... and, quite possibly, appalled... at the way they were treated.
In short, there's very good reason to believe that the known and unknown unknowns will turn out to be way, way weirder than we expect. Or, more accurately, don't expect.
We do not understand the origins or significance of sentient life, yet we have no hesitation in unnecessarily separating it from millions of beings daily. We take what we want, when we want, from creatures that are powerless to resist.
We are sucker-punching the entire planet, and maybe, just maybe, it's time we stopped.
Additional Sources:
'World's First Octopus Farm Proposals Alarm Scientists,' BBC (March 2023)
'The Case Against Octopus Farming,' Issues in Science and Technology (Winter 2019)
'The Octopus in My House,' Passion-Pictures (2020)
'Octopus Escapes Laboratory...' The Verge (April 2016)
'Amoeba Are Crafty, Shape-Shifting Engineers,'Science News Explores (Jan 2019)
'The Universe is Not Locally Real, and the Physics Noble Prize Winners Proved It,' Scientific American (October 2022)
* All images Wikipedia (commons), unless otherwise stated
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