Originally published 2018-07-08.
Talking to your dog, cat or rabbit is not proof that you are more intelligent than people who don’t, and no study has shown that. What research does suggest is that the habit behind it, seeing feelings and intentions in non-human things, grows out of the same social skills that make humans so good at understanding each other. Psychologists call it anthropomorphism, and it is one of the most normal things a human brain does.
So if someone raises an eyebrow when you ask your cat how its day went, you are in very good company. Here is what anthropomorphism is, why we do it, what our pets actually understand, and when treating animals like people can go too far.
What anthropomorphism means
Anthropomorphism is the attribution of human traits, emotions or intentions to animals, objects or forces of nature. Naming a car, apologising to a chair you bumped into, saying a storm is “angry” or describing your dog as “sulking” are all everyday examples.
Most pet owners do it constantly. They greet their animals in the morning, ask whether they are hungry, explain why the walk is late and describe them with human personality labels: the dog is a “baby”, the cat a “grumpy old man”. Children do it even more freely, and in them we tend to find it charming. In adults it has often been treated as a little silly.
Is it really a sign of intelligence?
The idea that pet-talkers are “smarter” comes mostly from a 2017 Quartz article by Leah Fessler that interviewed Nicholas Epley, a professor of behavioural science at the University of Chicago and author of Mindwise. Epley argues that anthropomorphism is “a natural byproduct of the tendency that makes humans uniquely smart on this planet.”
His point is subtle. Humans are extraordinarily good at reading other minds: guessing what someone wants, fears or intends from a glance or a tone of voice. The mental machinery that does this does not switch off when the “someone” is a dog, a robot vacuum or a houseplant. In Epley’s words, it is “a reflection of our brain’s greatest ability rather than a sign of our stupidity.”
That is not the same as saying individual people who talk to pets score higher on intelligence tests. The Quartz piece itself noted that this link had not been directly proven. Headlines that turned the argument into “people who talk to their pets are smarter” went further than the research. A fair summary is that talking to animals reflects a sophisticated social brain that almost everyone shares.
Why our brains do it
Psychologists Adam Waytz, Nicholas Epley and John Cacioppo proposed an influential explanation with three ingredients. We are most likely to humanise something when:
- Human knowledge is the easiest tool to hand. We know far more about people than about cats or cars, so we use what we know best to make sense of them.
- We want to understand or predict it. When something behaves unpredictably, a printer that jams only on deadlines, a dog that suddenly refuses its food, imagining a mind behind it offers an instant explanation.
- We want social connection. Lonely people anthropomorphise more, and pets can partly fill the need for company.
Faces are a powerful trigger. Our brains are tuned to detect eyes and expressions, which is why we see faces in electrical sockets and clouds. Epley notes that people are fooled by artificial eyes again and again. Stick a pair of googly eyes on the fridge and it suddenly seems to be watching you.
Movement matters too. In a classic 1944 experiment, psychologists Fritz Heider and Marianne Simmel showed people a short animation of simple geometric shapes moving around a box. Almost everyone described it as a story, with a bully, a victim and a chase. We read intention into motion automatically.
Cute animals get humanised most
Cuteness amplifies the effect. In a 2011 paper, psychologists Gary Sherman and Jonathan Haidt argued that cuteness works less as a trigger for caretaking alone and more as an invitation to social engagement, a cue to treat something as a mind worth interacting with. Quartz described findings in which people liked baby animals more than adults and were more likely to say they would name them, talk to them and refer to them as “he” or “she”.
The same pull explains why teddy bears, cartoon animals and many toys have big heads, large eyes and round faces. Designers know that these baby-like features invite us to talk to things, care for them and give them names.
As far as researchers know, no other species humanises the world in quite this elaborate way, although claims about what animals do or do not think are hard to test. What is clear is that the habit is deeply human and starts early in childhood.
What dogs and cats really understand
Talking to pets is not wasted breath. Dogs in particular have lived alongside people for many thousands of years and are remarkably sensitive to human voices and gestures. Most learn to recognise a handful of words such as their name, “walk” or “dinner”, and they read tone and body language very well.
A few go much further. Chaser, a border collie trained by retired psychology professor John Pilley in South Carolina, learned the names of 1,022 toys and could fetch them on request; Pilley and Alliston Reid described the results in the journal Behavioural Processes in 2011. She was exceptional, but she showed how much language a dog can learn with patient, playful training.
Cats get less credit than they deserve. Adult cats rarely meow at other cats; the meow is largely a signal they use with humans, probably a carry-over from kitten calls shaped by living with people. Observers have recorded up to 21 different cat vocalisations, plus a rich vocabulary of tail positions, ear angles and slow blinks. The joke that cats hear you perfectly well and simply choose not to respond is, at least sometimes, close to the truth.
When humanising pets helps, and when it hurts
Treating animals as feeling beings has real benefits. Research summarised in the scientific literature suggests that describing animals in human terms can make people more willing to help a dog in distress, and conversations with a pet can ease loneliness and add structure to the day.
But anthropomorphism can also mislead. A dog that looks “guilty” is often reacting to the owner’s angry posture, not feeling remorse. A cat that seems to be “smiling” may be in pain. Human-style interpretations can hide real suffering, and they have helped fuel demand for exotic pets whose needs are very different from what owners imagine.
A few habits keep the affection without the misunderstanding:
- Keep talking. A warm, consistent voice helps your pet learn routines and cues, and it is good for you too.
- Learn their language. Read up on the body language of your species, such as tail position, ear angle and posture, rather than relying on human expressions.
- Meet animal needs, not human ones. Exercise, diet, play and rest should match the animal’s biology. If behaviour changes suddenly, talk to a vet rather than guessing at its mood.
So next time you catch yourself asking the dog for its opinion on dinner, there is no need to feel embarrassed. You are using one of the most powerful social tools the human brain has, just aimed at a furry friend.
Sources: Quartz, Leah Fessler, 31 March 2017: why people name their plants, cars and pets; Wikipedia: Anthropomorphism; Wikipedia: Chaser (dog); Wikipedia: Cat communication; earlier summary by Thedailynet. Photos: Pixabay (illustrative); animation via GIPHY.
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