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WedNesdAY, sePTeMBeR 21, 2022

5

PATRIck BARkHAM

Tom Mustill was kayaking with his friend Charlotte in

Monterey Bay, California, when an animal three times the

size of the largest Tyrannosaurus Rex hurtled from the water

and crashed down on their tiny craft. As the flying

humpback whale fell upon them and their kayak was sucked

beneath the waves, Mustill assumed he would die.

Miraculously he and Charlotte found themselves gasping for

breath, clinging to their capsized kayak. How had they

survived a smash with a creature three times the weight of a

double-decker bus?

What happened next was almost as weird. Mustill and

Charlotte went viral. Passing whale-watching tourists had

videoed the pair's near-death encounter and stuck it on

YouTube. Mustill, a wildlife filmmaker, became what he calls

"a lightning conductor for whale fanatics". Interviewed by

the global media, he was soon quivering with different and

extraordinary stories of whale meetings from around the

world: a submariner told him about whales singing to his

ship; a book publisher reported being apparently scanned by

the sonar-like echolocation of a pregnant female dolphin - a

few days later, she discovered that she too was pregnant. "It

was really addictive finding out all these other stories," says

Mustill, "because each one was like another lens on the

animal and our relationship to them."

These stories alone could fill a book, but Mustill first made

a BBC documentary about humpback whales, before writing

his book, How to Speak Whale, which is a thrilling

exploration of past, present and future scientific endeavours

to communicate with animals and better understand

cetaceans in particular. What begins with questions about

his own brief encounter soon plumbs profound scientific

and philosophical depths.

As Mustill explains when I meet him beside a watery realm

- a reservoir close to his home in east London - his

wondering about how he survived became a bigger question.

Professor Joy Reidenberg, a whale scientist, told him the

footage suggested the whale veered away from Mustill's

kayak mid-breach, as if it didn't want to hit them. "It made

sense because I couldn't figure out how it hadn't smashed us

to bits," he says. "More spiritual friends said, 'Ah well, the

whale didn't want to hurt you.' I felt it was more like walking

into a cellar at night, hearing a rat squeak and not wanting to

tread on it - it's not necessarily out of compassion. The whale

might have thought, 'Urgh, what's that?'"

Did the whale mean to spare Mustill? "You can't just ask a

whale," said Reidenberg. But perhaps we will soon. "This is

the beginning of augmented biology," he says, "where our

human deficiencies - what we can't sense, where we can't go,

what we actually have the time to find patterns in - all seem

to be falling down." We're at a moment in time, he argues,

comparable to Antonie van Leeuwenhoek's mid-17thcentury

invention of the modern microscope and

microbiology. Today, big data and machine learning could

probe an impenetrable frontier - the chasm between our

consciousness and those of other animals. Can we

communicate with whales? If so, what will we say? And what

will they say back?

The history of human relations with whales is mostly

bloody and exploitative, but Mustill argues that science and

technology helped change it for the better. One of many

scientific heroes in his book is American researcher Roger

Payne. In 1967, when commercial whaling was at its peak,

Payne received recordings of whale sounds from the US navy,

whose underwater listening stations were eavesdropping on

Soviet submarines. Payne was haunted by the beauty of the

sounds, and by the fact that they repeated themselves. His

1971 Science paper on whale "song" was a blockbuster; Payne

also released albums of humpback whale song, which moved

millions of people. His science - and the power of song -

chimed with the nascent environmental movement and Save

the Whales became a sound of the 70s. Whale hunting was

banned in US waters in 1972 and a decade later came a global

moratorium on commercial whaling.

Nevertheless, scientific attempts to communicate with

animals are also fraught with gimmicks, eccentrics - the

researcher who injected LSD into one of his study dolphins

discredited the field for years - and heated debates over

whether animal communication can ever be "language".

Mustill believes these old struggles will be ended by new

technology. After graduating in natural sciences at

Cambridge University, he began his own scientific career by

taking a fieldwork post in Mauritius, where he was tasked

with monitoring the pink pigeon, working for Carl Jones, an

inspirational biologist who defied scientific orthodoxies to

ALex HeRN

In the fight for theme park

visitors the battle lines have

been drawn - monster trucks,

virtual reality zombie warfare

and "smellscaping", just

thankfully not all at the same

time.

And while there was a sombre

atmosphere around parts of

London as tens of thousands

lined up to pay their respects to

the Queen, there were 10,000

more gathered in a convention

centre in East London

experiencing the future of the

theme park.

The convention centre's hall

was dominated by a monster

truck on hydraulics rocking

riders and a nine-foot-tall alien

3D-printed in a matter of hours.

Alongside that were several

full-size bowling lanes and more

soft play areas than you could fill

with a whole primary school's

worth of birthday parties.

Pinball manufacturers Stern

did, however, delay the launch

of its James Bond pinball

machines as a mark of respect

for the Queen.

Anyone taking a walk down

the cavernous hall couldn't help

but notice the vast quantity of

virtual reality headsets. Through

VR, riders on the monster truck

experienced being thrown about

as though they were being

driven around a real arena,

while

rollercoaster

manufacturer Mack Rides could

demonstrate some of its own

rides without needing to ship

Can AI bridge the gap between

interspecies communication?

captive-breed species on the brink of joining the dodo,

saving them from extinction.

Jones is a hero, but Mustill's fieldwork was ill-fated - there

was a cyclone and the pigeon pairs he watched failed to rear

any young. Mustill concluded he could do more for

conservation by becoming a filmmaker. Today, he's excited

that new technology is vastly improving the efficiency of

conservation fieldwork. Tiny audio recorders are used to

detect rare birdsong in Hawaiian forests, for instance. "The

machine never gets distracted. It's much better than me at

doing that job, which is a bit galling."

Computers flicking through vast reams of biological data

learn to recognise patterns that would take humans

Fluke shot of a tail slap by Tom Mustill.

centuries to detect. Recognition programmes are now

widespread in popular apps that identify plant species or

birdsong.

Mustill discovered the power of big nature data when he

met Ted Cheeseman, founder of the Happywhale website,

which collects people's whale snaps to identify individual

animals. When Cheeseman replaced the laborious human

study of each whale tail, or fluke, with an algorithm, they

exponentially increased the number of flukes they could

identify. "They have now identified almost every whale in the

Pacific, which would once have been a pipe dream for any

team of biologists," says Mustill. Cheeseman also helped him

discover the individual whale that may have spared his life:

it was named Prime Suspect.

Recognising individual whales is one thing, but Mustill

then met Aza Raskin and Britt Selvitelle, two Silicon Valley

entrepreneurs leading efforts to communicate with animals

via the Earth Species Project (ESP), a not-for-profit mission

billed as Google Translate for whales. AI successfully

translates human languages; ESP's AI experts backed by a

multimillion-dollar budget are working on other species.

"ESP is looking at every technological bottleneck across all

animal communication and trying to design solutions that

everybody can use," says Mustill.

They are creating tools, not new information, but just after

Mustill handed his book into his publisher, Roger Payne -

still championing whale research aged 87 - rang him at 11pm

on Christmas Eve with some new facts. "He was like, 'I'm

really sorry to say your book's not finished.' I'm so glad he

did call because he loops back into the book like a human

boomerang."

Payne led Mustill to the Cetacean Translation Initiative

(CETI), a supergroup of scientists with an awesome target:

VR and the future of theme parks

attendees out to the company's

own Europa Park in Germany.

The technology also helps

provide interactivity, something

that Mark Beumers, chief

executive of Dutch "dark rides"

vendor Lagotronics Projects,

thinks is going to become

increasingly crucial to the

experience.

"Visitors expect more and

more, since they grew up with

Bumper cars with VR headsets, at the IAAPA expo in London. Photo: Linda Nylind

technology, nowadays, and they

want to experience technology

in a theme park in a different

and better way than they can do

it at home. And since they

already have a lot of technology

at home that they experience in

a good way, a theme park needs

to be the extra step."

But, Beumers says, virtual

reality has its limits. Simply

getting headsets on and off

riders can add unacceptable

delays to loading up rides, and

the technology limits one of the

best aspects of going to a theme

park: sharing the experience

with the friends and family you

visit with.

And while the technology was

just starting to be installed in

parks towards the beginning of

2018, the impact of Covid in the

last couple of years has given

operators a chance to consider,

and shift their approach.

"In 2019, people were

thinking, this is the new thing,

this is going to take off," says

Emily Popovich, of theme park

design agency Outdoor Factory.

"But then Covid hit, and

everyone sort of forgot about

that.

"And then, after Covid,

everyone is calm and developing

new awesome things, there's so

many geniuses in this industry.

So we come out of Covid and

everything is better than it was

in 2019 and nobody cares about

that any more."

In its place, says Maximilian

Roeser, Mack Rides' head of

marketing, is a new push for

augmented reality that lets

riders experience all the benefits

of VR without being stuck in a

bubble that shuts them off from

the real world.

In the company's latest

creations, riders even put the

headsets on long before they get

on the rollercoaster itself, with

the queue, boarding and

to communicate with a whale well enough to exchange ideas

and experiences. By 2026. Led by marine biologist David

Gruber, CETI is throwing everything at a well-studied

population of sperm whales off the island of Dominica:

multiple underwater listening stations; drones carrying

hydrophones; whales tagged by drones; soft robotic fish

swimming among the whales gathering audio and video.

Will they converse with a whale by 2026? "Everything that

David Gruber has done before he has nailed," says Mustill.

"It's going to be the biggest animal behaviour data set ever

recorded. The voyage of [Darwin's] Beagle didn't just require

loads of specimen cases and somebody who could capture

these species, it needed people back home ready to

catalogue, compare and preserve these specimens. The data

version of that is data centres, formatting, and they're

making it open source so other people can do it."

There's a long history of scientific breakthroughs used for

ill. If we begin conversing with other animals, it's easy to

imagine them being manipulated: pigeons could carry

diseases to enemies or migratory turtles instructed to deliver

drugs to a distant shore. But Mustill is heartened by the fact

that both ESP and CETI are run on open-source principles -

their data and tools are free for others to use. "That's both a

way of fostering collaboration and allowing scrutiny,

because one of the only protections against exploitation is

being open," he says.

For all the fears of abuse, when - and if - we learn to

communicate with other animals, it seems likely to trigger

profound changes in inter-species relationships. Selvitelle,

says Mustill, has described ESP as "a machine for making

vegans". Imagine subtitles from footage of abattoirs. Animal

rights will be revolutionised if animals can advocate for

themselves. "In the history of people being mean to lesspowerful

people, who controls the story, whose voice is

heard and who is considered to have a voice is one of the key

things that allows manipulation," says Mustill.

Of course, if we can hear animals, we might not like what

they have to say. Facial-recognition apps translating what

our pets are "saying" is an obvious commercial innovation,

but what if they reveal that our pets hold us in contempt?

Mustill sees conversations with whales as potentially

comparable to missionaries meeting indigenous people.

"We unwittingly transfer things aside from good vibes when

we make contact with previously separate worlds. If sperm

whales talk to each other and transmit information that

shapes their culture and actions, and we're ready to speak to

alighting experience all having

virtual additions.

But Roeser says the biggest

changes are likely to be those

behind the scenes that such

technology enables. "Theme

parks will develop in a way that

you'll have more and more

interactivity.

"More and more

customisation to your

customers as well: all the parks

will know who is coming in,

their name, their age, probably

what they like and what they

dislike, and therefore they can

transform the park for each

guest. And each guest

experience will be different and

probably fitted directly to that

guest.

"We already worked with

that, because we have some

alpha options for our coaster

ride so that you can choose your

own experience: one person

that is sitting on the lefthand

side could see another movie

than the person on the

righthand side."

The classic experiences aren't

going anywhere, though. For

many, like Julie Rice-Witherell

of conference organiser IAAPA,

the global association for the

attractions industry, there's still

nothing that matches the thrill

of riding a new rollercoaster for

the first time.

"Every time they build a new

one anywhere near me, it's like -

it's just something different. I

wouldn't say it's better, but it is

faster, or it has more turns or

you know, hits higher G forces,

whatever. It's always something

new that you've never

experienced."

Photo: Ru Mahoney

ToRsTeN BeLL

Scrolling Twitter or refreshing Facebook

definitely feels like it's bad for you, as our

attention spans rot and meaning is drained

from our lives. Despite those strong feelings,

we're usually told the evidence isn't yet there to

prove social media damages our mental health.

The evidence of surging mental ill health is

strong, with 30% of 18- to 24-year-olds

reporting a common mental disorder in 2018-

19, up from 24% at the start of the millennium,

so it's hard not to worry that this debate echoes

the mid-20th-century arguments that we

hadn't absolutely proved cigarettes cause

cancer. Despite the strong correlation between

smoking and dying, many doctors didn't

believe the link had been proved even by the

1960s.

Reinforcing my prejudices is new research

examining the staggered introduction of

them, are they ready to be spoken to?"

Mustill remains convinced that, if possible, conversations

with animals will engender new human respect and,

potentially, new consciousness. It would certainly become

less comfortable sitting on a sofa made from animal skins if

those beasts could speak. But will we listen? Pleas from

indigenous Amazonians to halt the destruction of the

natural world fall on deaf ears in the west. "Industrialised

western society hasn't listened to them, but some of us have,

and ideas from those cultures - such as the idea that a river

can be alive - changes how you look at a river," says Mustill.

Suzanne Simard, the professor who discovered trees'

subterranean exchanges and communications via fungal

networks, was recently asked what she would ask a tree if

they could talk. "What do you think of us?" she replied. What

would Mustill ask a whale? "'What do you think of us?'

would be really interesting from their perspective because

they'd sense us in such a different way, but I'd also be

interested in 'How are you?' Because the answer to that

question would reveal both what is important to them and

whether they have a sense of the individual," he says. "One

of the biggest problems we have is individualism and the

feeling that we're supposed to get as much out of our lives as

we can. Perhaps other social animals offer us more collective

ways of looking at our lifespan and relationship to the

world."

What if you could design a mission to record a data set of

whale communications perfectly optimised for the latest

machine-learning and language-processing tools to scan?

What if you could capture not just whole conversations but

hundreds of thousands of them, from scores of different

whales totalling millions, perhaps billions, of vocalisation

units? Would you then have a chance at speaking whale?

This is the plan of the Cetacean Translation Initiative, or

CETI.

CETI is an interdisciplinary A?team of badass scientists:

marine robotics specialists, cetacean biologists, AI wizards,

linguistics and cryptography experts and data specialists.

They were all brought together at a meeting of academics at

Harvard in 2019, which was chaired by David Gruber.

Gruber is a marine biologist and inventor, crafting cameras

that can capture the glow of sea turtles and soft, robot

graspers to gently handle fragile deep-sea animals.

The team is huge, with scholars from Imperial College,

MIT, Harvard and other universities and help from among

others Twitter, Google and Amazon. Their goal, Gruber told

me, was: 'To learn how to communicate with a whale well

enough to exchange ideas and experiences'. CETI's plan is to

throw everything they've got at the population of sperm

whales off the island of Dominica in the Caribbean.

CETI will rig the seafloor with multiple listening stations.

They will cover a 12.5?mile radius and form the Core Whale

Listening station, recording 24 hours a day. Alongside will

be drones and 'soft robotic fish' equipped with audio and

video recording equipment, able to move among the whales

without disturbing them.

CETI hopes to place tags on mothers, grandmothers,

teenagers and great bull males from different pods. There

will be weather sensors and other contextual data, and they

will link vocalisations to behaviour and what they know of

each individual whale: was it hungry, fishing, pregnant, or

mating?

All of these data will be available for the open-source

community, so that everyone can get stuck in. Then the AIs

will really be unleashed. They will analyse the coda click

patterns that whales use to communicate, distinguishing

between those of different clans and individuals. They will

seek the building blocks of the communication system. By

listening to baby whales learn to speak, the machines and

the humans guiding them will themselves learn to

speak whale.

All of the machine-learning tools will be part of an attempt

to build a working model of the sperm whale

communication system. To test this system, they will build

sperm whale chatbots. To gauge if their language models are

correct, researchers will test whether they can correctly

predict what a whale might say next, based on their

knowledge of who the whale is, its conversation history and

its behaviours. Researchers will then test these with

playback experiments to see whether the whales respond as

the scientists expect when played whale-speak.

Finally, they will try to speak, back and forth, with the

whales. What do they expect to say? I asked David. 'The

important thing to me,' he said, 'is to exhibit that we care and

we are listening. To show the other beautiful life-forms that

we see them.'

Evidence that proves the negative

impact of social media

Facebook across US universities, launching in

Harvard in 2004 and then spreading across the

country. Using surveys of students, it shows the

platform's arrival saw them being more likely to

report poor mental health with increases in

depression and anxiety of 7% and 20%

respectively. We're talking about the negative

impact of Facebook being around 22% of that of

losing a job - this is big. The authors argue the

impact is from increasing social comparisons.

Seeing everyone else having a great time isn't

good if you're not. The research shows that

Facebook's arrival increased students'

perceptions of how much other students were

drinking - a fairly good proxy for how much fun

you think others are having at that age - but had

no effect on actual drinking levels.

The youth of today might not smoke but it's

hard to believe newer forms of addiction are

completely harmless.

The negative impact of Facebook is about a fifth of that of losing your job.

Photo: Pixellover RM

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