The subtitle sums up this book in just a few words, but to be more specific, the author talks to people who have been studying elephants, wolves, and whales (and travels to the places to see the animals). One additional section does not focus on any one specific type of animal, but looks at many different animals and various studies of animal observation and behaviour.

If there are still people out there who think animals don’t think or feel, they are deluding themselves. Anyone who spends any time around animals at all has to realize. And it seems most or all are smarter than we think. And how do we define “intelligence”, anyway? In human terms. Even IQ tests are biased. The author points out many instances where if we held humans to the same standards as scientists hold animals when they are being studied, humans may not fare very well, either.

Of the three animals that were mainly focused on, I have read very little about whales, so I probably learned the most in that section. Sadly (and to no surprise for most of us), each of these animals are having a hard time surviving with everything humans are doing to their world, and this is touched on toward the end of the sections for each of the animals. If we start to “understand” them a bit better, will that help change things we are doing to our world (as it affects them so much)? ( )

Pretty good. Lots of cool animal stories.
Writing's not top-notch and he has a weird thing with italics, but an enjoyable book. ( )

Broadly speaking this book comes in three parts, each focussing on the family- and wider social-dynamics of a single species: first elephants, then wolves, then killer whales. More specifically, though, it’s about us too: the way we humans look at both ourselves and the world; about the imaginary dividing line we draw around ourselves to separate us from the rest of the animal kingdom; about the idea that we are different—special. And I say “imaginary” because the author’s aim is to show how absurd this idea is.
   Here’s a list of some of the things which have been hailed as the hallmark of “what makes us human”, what “sets us apart” from all those others:

• large brain • brain structure, the way the brain is organised overall • special types of brain cell (e.g. spindle cells, mirror neurons) • high intelligence • tool-use • not just using, but making tools • the capacity to feel pain • consciousness • emotions (any emotions at all that is) • and if other animals do feel fear, rage and so on, then human emotions • language • empathy • possessing a “theory of mind” (an absurd term from psychology meaning the ability to infer and understand another’s mental state • passing the mirror test (realising that the face looking back at you from a mirror is yourself) • the ability to plan ahead • deception (not camouflage, instinctive hiding and so on, but the premeditated deceiving of others) • teaching (parents sacrificing their own time to introduce their offspring to, and coach them in, new skills) • sharing food with complete strangers • an understanding of death • playing (and inventing) games / having fun / just “messing about” • abstract representation (the use of symbols to represent objects) • using one object to represent another.

It’s quite a list (though not an exhaustive one; there are plenty more too silly to bother even writing down).
   For one thing, it’s fantasy; aside from those items on it for which the jury may still be out on ourselves too, in each case there are other species who either do, or have, or use, or make—or simply are—all these things. And for another, it expresses not only a cringe-inducing arrogance, but straw-clutching: humans clearly need to feel superior, special. But why? And why is this prejudice so difficult to see past? Is it part of a more fundamental view that the world is here for our use? Because how can you use others if you recognise them as equals?
   This is a stunning book, the section on killer whales a true revelation—and as Safina himself points out, since the study of the behaviour, emotions, intelligence and consciousness of our fellow creatures is such a relatively new field (mere decades, barely begun) there are more revelations to come. And yet, surprisingly perhaps given its subject, Beyond Words is not an angry book; it’s remarkably restrained—albeit through gritted teeth at times when describing some of the grosser idiocies and atrocities routinely perpetrated on other animals by us.
   The message here is that we humans are as much part of the world as everyone else, that the similarities overwhelm the differences, that we are essentially the same, “…beneath the skin, kin. There is no other animal like us. But don’t forget: there are no other animals like each of them, either.” ( )

Trying to figure out what animals are thinking and what emotions they feel is such a tricky business that scientists have come to see it as a landmine capable of destroying their reputations and careers for good. Attribute too much logic or awareness to a non-human species, and you just might become a laughingstock within the scientific community forever. Carl Safina took that risk in 2015 in Beyond Words: What Animals Think and Feel, a 411-page book in which he emphasizes that, “Speculation about animals’ mental experiences happens to be the main quest of this book. The tricky task ahead: to go only where evidence, logic, and science lead. And to get it right.”

It’s hard to read Beyond Words without coming away with the impression that Safina did exactly that. What fascinates me most about Safina’s work, however, is how he came into the study wanting to learn two things: how animals are like humans and what observing them can teach us about ourselves. Instead, what he ended up walking away with was just the opposite: a better understanding of how humans are like animals and what being human can teach us about animals. The more he learned, and the more he thought about his goal, Safina realized:

I’d somehow assumed that my quest was to let the animals show how much they are like us. My task now — a much harder task, a much deeper task — would be to endeavor to see who animals simply are — like us or not.

Beyond Words is divided into a prologue, four parts, and a two-page epilogue. Part One is dedicated to elephants, Part Two to wolves, Part Three (the shortest section) to several different species, and Part Four to whales. Each section details the observations that Safina made during the time he spent working with small groups of scientists who have dedicated their entire lives to tracking and learning about a single non-human species. The big surprise about being around people like these scientists is how deeply they relate to individuals within the animal populations they have grown so familiar with. Often, it seems that the researchers have developed genuinely deep relationships with individual elephants, wolves, whales, and other animals. They have become friends in every sense of the word.

At first glance, it may sound as if these scientists may have strayed into dangerous territory. But as they observe their favored species, the “evidence, logic, and science” begin to pile up so overwhelmingly that it is difficult to disagree with what they say. Readers of Beyond Words will experience a wide range of emotions that includes skepticism, awe, surprise, anger, despair, and hope for the future.

Bottom Line: Beyond Words is an eye-opener, a book that reminds us of where our own species fits into the world, along with just how much damage we have done to other species during our ascension to becoming the most dominant animal on the planet. The ultimate takeaway for me, personally, is that being the most dominant species on the planet does not at all mean that we are the most “humane” species on the planet.

Books like Beyond Words have the power to rock your world. As one of Carl Safina’s neighbors (J.P. Badkin) put it: “If you’re not careful, you can learn something new every day.” Well, here’s your chance. ( )

This is one of the books that I will suggest everyone to read,
The book changes one perspective that no other documentary has done.
Really a work of art.
I am thankful to the author for writing this. ( )