After a startling encounter with a cuttlefish, Australian philosopher Peter Godfrey-Smith set out to explore the mysterious lives of cephalopods. He was left asking: why do such smart beings live such a short time?
Inches above the seafloor of Sydneys Cabbage Tree Bay, with the proximity attained possible by several millimetres of neoprene and a scuba diving tank, Im just about eyeball to eyeball with this animal: an Australian giant cuttlefish.
Even allowing for the magnifying effects of the mask snug across my nose, it must be about 60 cm( two feet) long, and the peculiarities that abound in the cephalopod household, that includes octopuses and squid, are the more striking writ so large.
Its body shaped around an internal surfboard-like shell, tailing off into a fistful of tentacles has the shifting colouring of velvet in illumination, and its W-shaped pupils lend it a stern expres. I dont think Im imagining some recognition on its part. The question is, of what?
It was an encounter like this one at exactly the same place, actually, to the foot that first prompted Peter Godfrey-Smith to think about these most other of intellects. An Australian academic philosopher, hed lately been appointed a prof at Harvard.
While snorkelling on a visit home to Sydney in about 2007, he came here across a giant cuttlefish. The experience had a profound effect on him, establishing an unlikely framework for his own examine of philosophy, first at Harvard and then the City University of New York.
The cuttlefish hadnt been afraid it had seemed as curious about him as he was about it. But to imagine cephalopods experience of the world as some iteration of our own may sell them short, given the many millions of years of separation between us nearly twice as many as with humans and any other vertebrate( mammal, bird or fish ).