When we think of communication, most people think of communication between humans. But with the ever-increasing media focus on the expansion of human habitat and the associated decline in biodiversity, our interactions with non-human living beings are becoming something even we city dwellers have to think about. But what etiquette should we observe when communicating with our counterparts in the animal kingdom?

In the summer, while hiking, I met a cow. I call her Daisy. My friend and I were about to eat when we heard the tinkling of her bell, and there was Daisy standing next to us. Curious, she inspected our backpacks and sniffed the food my friend had put out for her dog. Daisy stuck out her tongue and grimaced. She didn’t like the dog food.

Daisy also eyed us intensely. We had sought refuge when she turned up, my friend with the growling dog under a distant tree and me a little closer on a rise.

Daisy looked at me with challenging eyes, as if to say: Is that all you have?

I spoke to her and waved. But that didn’t satisfy her. After a while, she moved a few steps away from our picnic site, turned her backside towards me, demonstratively let drop a cow pat and went on her way.

Kinship with all living beings

According to Duden, the verb to communicate was borrowed in the 18th century from the Latin communis. It means “common to all”. I’m fascinated by the word’s origin. It implies that communicating is also the basis for community or kinship. If I communicate with someone, I’m their kin or part of their community.

For a long time, this kinship only extended to other humans. But ever since the Anthropocene, the age of human influence on the climate and the earth, it has also included non-human living beings and our environment.

Communicating with respect

Communicating can be problematic if the other being is an animal. Other species have different senses and a different approach to the world. Cows, for example, are equipped with a vomeronasal organ in the palate that makes their sense of smell very sensitive to impressions that humans don’t perceive at all. Dog food, for instance, takes on a meaning for Daisy that I can’t relate to.

In his 2022 book An Immense World, science journalist Ed Yong shows that human influence on the perceptual worlds of other species is becoming more and more widespread. He pleads for respectful interaction.

But what exactly does respect mean in this context? And how can I communicate it? These are difficult questions and misunderstandings are inevitable. But if we humans adopt an open attitude towards other needs, we can start to get to grips with interspecies etiquette.

Interspecies etiquette

Ingredients for respectful communication with non-human beings are:

1. Curiosity: We can deduce the motivation of another animal by carefully observing body language. Often, as in the case of Daisy, the other creature also meets us with curiosity.

2. Respect: The other creature must feel noticed and taken seriously. By giving them space and behaving in a restrained manner, I signal to them that there’s room for manoeuvre.

3. Patience: Other species move at a different pace and with different senses. It’s important not to overwhelm the other creature.

4. Non-threat: I am not the only potential threat to the animal. Other disturbing factors, such as an approaching car or a barking dog, could also frighten it. So it makes sense to keep an eye on the situation and create a safe environment.

5. Trust: If we take the time and turn the encounter into more than just a fleeting contact, we can build trust across species boundaries.

Reflection

Since the hike I’ve been thinking a lot about the experience with Daisy. The encounter between the three species could have had a different outcome. For example, instead of sniffing cautiously, Daisy could have trampled over our belongings, especially as she found the dog food disgusting and I didn’t provide her with the entertainment she was hoping for. Or the dog, afraid of cows, could have barked aggressively at Daisy. Or we two humans could have misunderstood Daisy’s curiosity and made off. The closer encounter would never have happened.

Instead, a moment arose in which all four of us engaged with each other through careful glances, cautious sniffs and well-meaning words. In the end we parted amicably, even though Daisy made it clear that this was her territory. Her cow pat was a minor provocation, but I imagine her respectfully stepping away from our picnic site as more of a mischievous grin or wink between humans. So if we allow it to happen and engage in communication with non-human animals, the possibility for humour even arises.