As I sat on the terrace of my apartment, greeting the summer dawn, the quiet old German town beneath me began to stir. Swallows darted back and forth in the waning light, their lives a constant flurry of motion as they hunted insects and evaded predators. Nearby, songbirds filled the air with melody. This pristine moment of beauty wasn't just a pause from the daily grind; it was a luxury. Most beings on Earth, including the very swallows I admired, are bound by the relentless pursuit of survival.
This luxury—of appreciating the world without the immediate pressure of survival—is relatively new to humans. Generations of my ancestors faced harsh climates, predators, disease, and the struggle to sustain themselves. Their efforts and evolution endowed us with a moment to simply enjoy. To think. To contemplate our place in the universe.
It's often said that intelligence is humanity's evolutionary wager. Unlike other species, we don't just adapt to our environments—we transform them to suit our needs. Consider this: a significant portion of Earth's species, from yeast to cattle, now exist primarily within the confines of the human food chain. Yet, despite our technological advances and the depth of our philosophical inquiries, our grasp on the very essence of intelligence remains tenuous.
Recent debates on artificial intelligence illustrate this uncertainty. We struggle to conceptualize intelligence that differs from our own, and we find ourselves at a loss when asked to compare our intelligence to other possible forms. Yet, the possibility that other forms of intelligence exist in the universe invites us to ponder not just who we are, but how we relate to these potential others in a grander biosphere of minds.
In my contemplative state, watching the swallows, I endeavoured to think about these questions in abstract terms, striving to shed the anthropocentric bias that often colors such discussions. Yet, we need some frame of reference to anchor our understanding of higher intelligences.
One such framework might be Abraham Maslow’s hierarchy of needs, which posits that higher psychological needs can only be pursued once basic physical ones are met. While the specific needs and how they are fulfilled may differ across species, some aspects seem nearly universal. Physiological and safety needs are foundational and are likely to be important for any intelligent entity. Higher levels of Maslow's hierarchy, like love, social connections, and esteem, may not be as universal. It's conceivable that some intelligences might not be social or may experience self-esteem differently—if at all (think Stanisław Lem’s ocean for reference). At the same time, self-actualization seems to be a more general concept. After all, we currently believe that general intelligence is associated with a capacity to define goals and achieve them autonomously. In this very general sense any complex intelligence probably has some concept of accomplishment and a reward system that enables the goal-setting mechanism.
Thus, three levels from the initial hierarchy emerge as potentially universal: physiological needs, safety needs, and the need for self-actualization. This hierarchy might already seem to be too generic, but I suggest we simplify it even further. The complexity of self-actualisation level severely depends on the satisfaction of the first two. One could potentially imagine a civilization that praises self-sacrifice for a higher goal, thus decoupling self-actualisation from physiological and safety needs, however for any complex form of self-actualisation to emerge a species needs to live long enough to get exposure to various experience. Thus, outside of needs that are directly connected with survival it’s the activities or behaviours that could be considered as indicators of self-actualisation that make an intelligent species stand out. So, if we want some context to compare intelligent species their self-actualisation needs could be the primary focus of our attention.
Here is a list of hypothetical criteria that might correspond to such self-actualization activities:
1. Historical Emergence: The activity should appear early in the history of the species. This suggests it is not a simple byproduct of recent advancements but has deeper evolutionary roots.
2. Biological Correlation: There should be observable biological properties associated with this activity, implying a direct connection to the species’ intelligence.
3. Preference and Engagement: A significant proportion of the species likely shows a preference for this activity, indicating it's innately satisfying or rewarding.
4. Development with Civilization: As the civilization advances, the activity should also evolve, becoming more complex and varied.
5. Increased Accessibility: Over time, access to this activity should become more widespread, allowing more individuals within the species to engage in it as the civilization progresses.
This framework provides a structured approach to consider if an activity might be indicative of a civilization’s move towards self-actualisation. When we apply this model to our own species, numerous activities like art, science, and spiritual practice come to mind, as they have historically become more sophisticated and widely accessible.
Yet, among all these, music uniquely checks all the boxes. Its roots can be traced back to the dawn of humanity, with every culture developing its own form. From the oldest known musical instruments to modern digital streaming, music has been a constant companion of human evolution. We have music in elevators and in supermarkets. Moreover, there are actual human beings whose livelihood depends on the music that plays in the supermarkets! It is clear that music is intricately tied to both our biological rhythms and social structures, evolving and becoming more accessible as our civilization has progressed. After all, we have record high number of musicians though even the most successful ones keep on telling in every interview how difficult it is to be a successful musician. Even verbal intelligence — the pillar of our civilization, emerged from the attempts of our ancestors to vocalise emotions such as fear or lust. In a greater scheme of things a song is a predecessor of language, not vice versa! The more I thought of it the deeper was my belief that music is one of fundamental self-actualisation activities lying in the cornerstone of our civilization. Most people I know have strong preferences in food, sexual… and music!
Returning to the terrace, as I watched the swallows' tireless activity at dusk, I thought about how different our intelligence has shaped us compared to other species. All birds, like all potential intelligent civilizations, differ widely but share certain fundamental traits. In this cosmic aviary, perhaps there are civilizations resembling swallows, always on the move, and others like hawks, solitary and fierce. And then there are civilizations like us—perhaps we are akin to magpies, endlessly curious, constantly looking for new sounds to imitate, collecting shiny fragments of technology and culture.
This perspective is not just an exercise in imagination but a call to reflect on what our civilization has become and what it might yet be. If there are more intelligent civilizations out there or if we seriously consider building another intelligence on par with ours, understanding who we are in the “intelligence aviary” could be instrumental for our future. Next time you enjoy a luxury of observing nature on a calm evening try to return to this thought and let me know what you think about it. Are we a magpie civilization?