“Having a dog is like caring for a teenager.” And: “Dog’s have the equivalent intelligence of a two-year old child.” I’m sure you’ve heard these or similar statements before. And while you would be right for saying they are anthropomorphic statements, and therefore factually incorrect, it may not be for the reason you think. Dogs are highly intelligent, they posses a sense of self, as well as an awareness of other minds, and they engage with their environment with a remarkable degree of mental acuity. They just so happen to manifest that intelligence in ways that are distinctly different to that of the human mind.
This is partly due to their evolution and the way nature has dictated how they sense and engage with their environment, but it is also down to humanity’s first foray into eugenics: We created the dog through selective breeding, we shaped their intelligence to suit our purposes, and to a large degree, therefore, we are responsible for their mental wellbeing.
In order to truly understand canine intelligence, one needs to sense through a dog’s eyes, nose, and ears how it perceives the world, acquires its knowledge, applies that knowledge to act upon its environment, and engages with those with whom it shares that space.
The Adaptable Dog:
Dogs are one of the most adaptive animals on the planet. When you consider they have not only adapted to all manner of environments around the world – from the Arctic to the West Africa – but have also been integrated into a broad range of human cultures and societies.
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In order to discern canine intelligence, its probably best to first define what intelligence actually means. Intelligence is the manifest ability of a mind to acquire knowledge of its surroundings, formulate new paradigms based on that information, and then to apply that knowledge in a manner that produces consequences for it and/or others within a given setting.
Dr Stanley Coren, psychology professor and neuropsychological researcher, distinguishes between three types, or modes, of intelligences in dogs, namely: Instinctive intelligence, adaptive intelligence, and working (or obedience) intelligence.
Instinctive intelligence is the innate abilities and behavioural predispositions of a dog, determined by its genetic and hereditary makeup. In other words, it reflects the ability of a dog to perform the function for which it was bred, be that guarding, herding, or tracking. For instance, a scent-oriented beagle has an extraordinary facility for tracking down prey but would never be predisposed to herding sheep like a border collie, as it’s senses are naturally attuned to smell rather than to sight.
Adaptive intelligence is the learned abilities of the individual animal, borne of its experiences, toward retaining and retrieving information, and applying one set of learned skills from one environment or situation to another. In other words, this mode of intelligence is geared toward problem solving.
Instinctive & Adaptive Intelligence:
Digging to bury a bone is instinctive to all dogs, but digging a hole to lie in is adaptive. In hot weather, some dogs will scoop out bowl-shaped cavities in the earth to lie in so that they can cool down. Some will simply use holes that have previously been dug out by others, while a few will learn to mirror the behaviour of those that are doing the digging.
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Working (or obedience) intelligence relates to the dog’s ability to learn from and work with humans, such as by providing assistance-based care or applying their instinctive intelligence to fulfil a specific human need, such as through herding livestock or in airport security. Your dog employs his working intelligence whilst undergoing training with you.
Working Intelligence:
Dogs have been trained to fulfil a range of functions, from police work to service and therapy, undergoing rigorous training to perform the activities necessary for that job. As times change, so do their roles. So while Dalmatians were originally bred as carriage dogs, they are now often chosen as mascots by fire departments owing to their past association when fire fighters were carried by horse-drawn wagons.
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However, intelligence does not necessarily denote consciousness. This is why we can refer to artificial intelligence without necessarily having to assume that a machine is capable of conscious thought. In order for there to be consciousness there needs also to be self-reflection, or an awareness of oneself, and, by extension, an awareness of other conscious minds, as well.
So how do dogs fare in this regard?
Is your dog self-aware? Well, why don’t you call to him to find out? Inasmuch as he knows that particular sound refers to him alone, and not to some one or thing else in the room, that he takes that sound as a cue to being summoned, is to say that he has an awareness of self.
Concomitant with that sense of self is a dog’s capacity for experiencing emotions. These range from anger to joy, from contentment to distress, from elation to depression, and even include that singular emotion upon which we humans place such great stock – namely love. In fact, one of the hormones most commonly associated with that emotion, that plays a key role in both social bonding and intimacy, is oxytocin. It has been discovered that substantial levels of oxytocin are released in both humans and dogs when owners and pets gaze into each other’s eyes.
While dogs do feel, it is important to emphasise that there are certain emotions that do not feature in their experience, but seem confined solely to human modes of self-reflection. These include feelings of contempt, guilt, and shame. And while many would include pride in that list, it is sometimes difficult to discern what a dog may be feeling as he struts down the path, carrying an oversized log in his mouth with his tail stuck up like a flagpole in the air!
What is certainly the case is that, unlike humans, dogs cannot rationalise their emotions, and hence cannot distance or disassociate themselves from their feelings. Dogs would wear their hearts on their sleeves if they had shirts on, but because they cannot verbally express themselves, we often miss their telltale signs.
Depression in Dogs:
A depressed dog may exhibit signs of listlessness, loss of appetite, minimal drinking, and a disinterest in play or in socialising. He may be suffering from a physical illness that has left him in discomfort, unable to perform as he used to. Equally, there may have been a major change in his life, such as moving home or a loss within the family. The latter can be particularly acute, as not only will his routine have been disrupted but he too will be feeling grief at the absence of a familiar figure, be it human or another pet. Finally, if your dog has developed a phobic response or is made to feel fearful about something he can do nothing about, then this can result in both a state of learned helplessness and depression.
The best thing you can do is engage with the dog by introducing him to new and varied experiences. Take him for walks to new locales, stimulate his mind with basic training. Let him meet up with other dogs. If the cause is medical, find a way to stimulate him that is within his means. But don’t pamper him, for this will only reinforce his current disposition.
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However, dogs are exceedingly good at reading our own human emotions, as they are masters at reading the nuances of body language. Even our body odour can betray our feelings, and one sniff from Fido can tell him whether you’re angry or sad.
This awareness of other’s emotions extends to an awareness of other’s minds, as well. As with humans, dogs are masters at the art of deception, employing it even in their play as they tempt you with a toy only to duck and weave away. In multi-dog households, it is not unusual for one dog to steal another’s treat or favourite toy, and then to hide it from the other, being careful to do so when the other is not watching.
But perhaps the most touching of signs of a dog’s awareness of self and of others stem from such altruistic qualities as loyalty and sacrifice. Take the story of Delta, a Roman dog that died during the eruption of Mount Vesuvius near the city of Pompeii. His silver engraved collar was discovered in the cavity that had formed around his remains, and it revealed that he had thrice before saved his master’s life: Once by pulling him from the sea, saving him from drowning; a second time by fending off attackers attempting to rob him; and a third time by intervening when a wolf had tried to kill him. Sadly, Delta was not successful during the destruction of Pompeii, for sheltered beneath his remains was a second cavity belonging to his master, whom the dog had tried to shield from the volcanic ash in vain.
If it takes intelligence to make sense of the world around us, then it stands to reason that it is how we sense our world would shape our intelligence. Our senses act not only as conduits for information but also set limits on what we are able to discern and process, leading potentially to sensory bias. While you see what I mean, a dog would sniff at the idea.
So how do canine senses compare to our own, and what does that tell us about how a dog might perceive the world?
When it comes to vision, a dog’s ability to perceive the world is far more restricted than ours, although with a few qualifications.
To a dog, the colours of the world are restricted to varying shades of blue, yellow, and a brown-grey. The colour spectrum extending from violet through to blue would appear blue, while the spectrum from yellow to orange would appear yellow. Shades of green would appear as gradations of a grey. Nor do dogs see red (although you may think differently if you made him angry!). Instead, he perceives red as a brown-grey. With this in mind, you may now have a better understanding of why, after you throw a green or red tennis ball for your dog, he may wander around sniffing for it when you can see it as plain as day beside him on the grass. Through the lenses of a dog’s eyes, a green or red tennis ball on green grass is more likely to blend into the background.
Dogs also tend toward nearsightedness, being less able to perceive detail from a distance. They also have far fewer nerve fibres in their optic nerves, which further reduces the level of detail that they are able to glean. However what they lack in being able to discern detail is made up for by their ability to detect objects in motion. They not only perceive motion more readily but are able to detect familiar objects based on their motion pattern better than any human eye ever could.
Dogs are also much better able to see in dim light. Not only do their eyes have more light-collecting rods than the human eye, but they also have a layer of tissue, called the tapetum lucidum, tucked behind the retina, which acts as a mirror to reflect incoming light back to the retina, increasing the light available to the photoreceptors. It is this layer of tissue that makes a dog’s eyes shine at night as incoming light is reflected back out.
What dogs lack in sight, they certainly make up for in their sense of smell. In fact, a dog has over forty times as many scent receptors in their nose than in a human nose, and the proportion of their brain devoted to analysing scents is just as great when compared to the allocated space within a human brain.
Olfactory Layering:
A dog’s nose is so sensitive that they can actually separate out individual smells much as we can separate out the colours in a painting, appreciating the individual brushstrokes while still admiring the artwork as a unified piece. Their sensitivity is so refined that dogs can even sniff out illness and disease, from cancer to migraines.
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So if you’re ever wondering how it is that your dog manages to know when to expect you home from work when he clearly can’t even read the time on a clock face, just know that it is down to his nose. With such sensitivity, dogs can quite literally smell time. The smell of morning will be different to that of midday, and so too for afternoon and evening. The smell of autumn will be different to that of spring. And what smells travel on the breeze toward him hint only at what is yet to come.
So don’t begrudge your dog when he presses his cold, wet nose against you, for it is that very moistness that helps him to detect all those hidden flavours of smell. The mucus on his nose traps the scent molecules in the air, allowing for those 220 million scent receptors in his nose to do their work, to paint a picture of his world for him in all its glorious detail.
Why Do Dogs Lick Their Nose?
By licking their nose, a dog licks off scent chemicals trapped within the mucus, passing it to the olfactory glands on the roof of their mouth. Many people notice their dogs licking their noses when anxious or uncertain. While this may be partly self-soothing, it is also a way by which they try to make sense of the situation.
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A dog’s auditory acuity is greater than ours not only in terms of distance but also sensitivity. Generally, they can hear up to four times the distance of a human ear and are better able to triangulate the position from which that sound originated.
A dog’s ear is better attuned to picking up higher pitches of sound, even beyond the human range, although this is dependent on both the size and shape of their ear. The smaller the ear, the better it is attuned to detect higher pitches, while a larger ear is better tuned for picking up lower pitches. Hence, smaller dogs tend to detect higher pitched sounds, while larger breeds are better at detecting lower pitch sounds.
The ears of a dog are far more flexible than that of a human being. Like two aerials, they are able to cock each one independent of the other, thereby being able to discern not only the nature of the sound but also the direction from which it originated.
For a dog, the touch sense is probably the least evolved of all the senses in terms of his means to map the world. That makes sense, for with his keen sense of smell and sight, even in dim light, there is very little that would evade his senses whilst being able to get so close. Nevertheless, he has one sensory backup should such an occurrence occur, and that is his whiskers, or vibrissae.
These hairs are so sensitive that they can even sense the movement of air around him, helping him to navigate in dark or confined spaces. When air currents bend round or bounce off the surface of an object, those finely attuned senses will tell him not only that the object is there but also its size, shape, and distance, as well as the speed that it might be travelling.
There are two aspects to linguistic communication: First there is the ability to comprehend a message, and second there is the ability to produce the sounds or signals to communicate back. Some may presume that the ability to produce the sounds or signals would necessarily precede the understanding of the message, but in fact the opposite is true. Even in young children, the ability to understand what their parents are saying comes before their ability to articulate a coherent response (sadly, some might say, that period is far too short-lived!).
What is truly amazing with a number of species, but particularly with dogs, is that they are not only able to communicate in their own way but are also able to comprehend our language. In fact, it’s believed that the average trained dog may understand well over a hundred of our words.
Of course, dogs do not have the vocal complexity of a human being. Not only are there physiological impediments to their being able to articulate such a broad range of sounds – the fact that we stand upright means that our airway bends at 90 degrees, leading us to have two resonating cavities instead of one, and we have a larger, rounded tongue – but their evolutionary path from pack hunters would preclude the development of vocalisation as a primary means for communication. After all, what hunter would want to alert its prey to every signal that it sent. Hence dogs are more cued to communicating via body language. Refer to our page on ‘Dog Body Language & Communication’ for more information.
That’s not to say that dogs do not vocalise. Anyone who ever owned a Beagle or a Terrier would tell you otherwise! But their vocalisations tend to follow the same rule of thumb as for most other species, in which pitch, duration, and repetition rate all come together to form a type of grammar for ‘woofish’.
High pitch vocalisations are indicative of anxiety and excitation while a low pitch will tend toward threat-assertiveness (either through barking or growling) or even contentment (manifested through moans). The higher the pitch, the more scared the dog (with a whimper or yelp, or series of yelps expressing pain and/or tremendous fear), while a low pitch is indicative of confidence. The shorter the duration or sharper the sound, the more likely it is to be an expression of anger or fear, with the associated pitch expressing whether the dog is feeling confident or afraid. The faster the repetition rate, the greater the urgency, whilst the slower the repetition rate, or indeed if not even repeated, the more likely it to be simply a passing state of mind.
In order to make true sense of all these sounds, though, one needs to take into account the body language of the dog, for, as has been said before, the primary and most nuanced mode of communication for a dog is through body language.
Grinning & Baring It:
Not all snarls are growls. Some dogs – most notably Dalmatians – are known for ‘smiling’. This is usually at a point of high excitation, and is in fact a friendly gesture. Usually this is associated with a great deal of tail wagging, and ‘schluffing’ and snorting on the dog’s part. Some dogs are known to do this a little more quietly, with heads slightly bowed, as an appeasement gesture. In such instances, it is considered to be a submissive grin.
While some believe dogs have learnt to smile after having observed us doing the same, the fact is that it is a behaviour associated more with certain breeds than others, suggesting a genetic or hereditary cause. That is not to say that such gestures cannot be reinforced or learnt by other dogs who observe our positive responses to such behaviour.
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Breed-specific intelligence relies heavily on instinctive intelligence but is equally dictated by the reason for which that dog was bred. For instance, some breeds tend to be more companionable than others, being a trait that was specifically selected when those breed-lines were established. Other traits were adapted from instinctive intelligence for our own purposes, such as herding and pointing.
Pointing for a Purpose:
Often predatory animals will pause before attacking, as they lock eyes on their target-prey to gauge its size, speed of travel, and distance. Pointers and other breeds, such as Setters, have been selectively bred based on their natural ability to hold that pose for longer and longer, eventually making the transition to freezing at the whiff of a scent.
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Some of these purposeful interventions have had knock-on consequences further down the breed-line. For instance, if you’re wondering why your Terrier is an incessant barker, it is because his breed was specifically bred to bark. Terriers were bred to follow game into burrows, and their barking was their means to alert the hunters as to what hole they had got themselves into in the event they became trapped.
Hence, while most breed-specific behaviour has its origins in instinctive intelligence, humans have tailored that intelligence to their advantage, accentuating certain traits while dampening down on others. In effect, breed intelligence is as much a result of human intervention as it is of instinctive ability.
When weighing up the breed intelligence of a mixed-breed dog, consider which of its breed-lines the dog most resembles. Chances are it is that line which is most dominant and will dictate how that dog will likely behave.
Many behaviourists and scientists don’t talk about a dog’s personality, only its temperament, because personality implies a level of consciousness and self-awareness. In order to ascertain if dogs do indeed have personalities, it is worth taking a moment to reflect on the meaning of each of these terms.
Temperament is that which is considered innate, or in other words is what one is born with, and usually described as being along a spectrum between extroversion and introversion. It may also include such traits as: Adaptability, distractibility, intensity, sensitivity, and persistence. As these characteristic traits engage with their environment, they give rise to the six basic emotions, namely: Anger, disgust, fear, happiness, sadness, and surprise.
Both our temperament and our early experiences inform our behaviour and further learning, which all come together over time to form our personality. Personality, therefore, is that which arises within the individual, borne out of his or her own experiences, and is generally considered to be stable both over time and through different circumstances. It encompasses characteristic patterns of thinking, feeling, and behaving, commonly described in psychology by variations across five basic personality traits, known as the ‘Big Five’, which has been successfully modelled across a range of population groups in more than fifty countries.
So, do dogs have personalities, or do they only have temperaments? Or is this splitting hairs (and fur)? Is it, in fact, helpful to continually compare human qualities and modes of thought with those of a dog?
After all, human beings go through an extended period of maturing, from infancy through adolescence, which just so happens to be the length of the average dog’s entire lifespan. So is it at all surprising that humans are able to develop a keener sense of self, with the ability for greater self-reflection, and hence access to emotions such as guilt or contempt that are beyond the grasp of a dog?
We also have language to aid us in our recollection of past events, a fundamental aspect in the development of identity. There is not much that one can recall prior to having learnt a language, and the reason for this is that it is language that helps us to codify our experiences, to share them and to store them in our long-term memory. Dogs do not have this facility. Their memories are confined to people, places, and objects, with concomitant associations based on sight, smells, and sounds.
Perhaps it is time to accept that we are simply comparing two different modes of intelligence, two types of consciousness, each taking in the world and then expressing itself outwardly in its own unique way, resulting in gradations to personality structure as opposed to a simple binary choice of there being one or none at all.
In 2012, a team of researchers investigated a small tribe of hunter-gatherers in South America and discovered within that community that only two of the “Big Five” personality traits were in fact present, suggesting that personality traits have indeed evolved over time, as our interactions with our environment and between each other became ever increasingly complex.
Perhaps, then, the risk of anthropomorphism stems not from the consideration that a dog may indeed be conscious or aware, but that by conceding that they are we therefore should feel the need to imbue it with a human sense of self. Perhaps a dog does not have a personality as we understand it, but rather another level of persona. For want of a better description, let’s simply call it ‘caninality’.
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