June 17, 2025 – Andy is in OurLittleCorner today
How do you know what’s (not) going on in a dog’s head?
It’s funny how some seemingly small things can remain stuck in our brains. One of those small things that I can’t dislodge occurred more than 40 years ago while teaching a graduate seminar.
I was in the midst of explaining the difference between how humans and nonhumans think and was using the example of how our dog at the time responded when I caught her eating a pork chop she had snatched from our countertop. I told the students that despite her appearance, she was not feeling any guilt or remorse. I had barely finished that sentence when a hand shot up and one of the students indignantly asked, “How do you know what ‘s going on in a dog’s head?”
I don’t recall exactly how I responded, but I probably offered some lame deflection -while trying not to show my irritation that a student had the gall to question me. But to be honest, I didn’t know what was going on in our dog’s head back then and I’m still struggling with that question today.
I bring this up because the specter of that raised hand and annoying question came back to me the other day when I came across a Guardian article by Emine Saner entitled “Who’s a clever boy: the average dog has a mental age of about two. But what are they really thinking?” Perhaps this would be what I needed to put to rest that stubborn question nestled in my brain.
Saner’s article provides an overview of what experts currently claim to know about canine cognition, which is more impressive than I had thought. To start with, a dog’s mental capacity is estimated to be about that of a 2 to 2 .5 year-old human child, which means that dogs can learn hundreds of words for objects. They also can figure out that pointing to something is not all about your finger but about what’s in the direction of the pointing finger. And, they can count up to five. Clearly, dogs are no mental slouches.
But what was of particular interest to me was how dogs process emotions and why we humans have such a hard time reading them. According to Stanley Coren from the University of British Columbia, dogs have all of the basic emotions that a 2.5 year old child has- fear, aggression, love, surprise, and disgust… “but complex social emotions like guilt don’t show up until a child is about four” (emphasis added). In short, to feel “guilt” requires processing a complex set of conditions that goes beyond a dog’s cognitive ability (and that of children under four): they must understand the rules in our society, know that they have broken the rules, and know that they’ve been found out. Dogs just don’t have that capacity.
It follows then that what many dog owners assume are signs of guilt or remorse is something else. As Cohen puts it, attributing feelings of guilt to a dog is”anthropomorphism at work… Dogs don’t feel guilt, and those expressions you see are really fear.” (This must be bad news for the folks posting all of those “guilty-dog” videos on Youtube ).
After cogitating on all of this I’ve decided that if I ever cross paths again with that former student I would tell her that she had asked the wrong question. She should have asked how I knew what was not going on in a dog’s head. Then I could point to the recent research on canine cognition that indicates there is no way that a dog could experience “complex social emotions” such as guilt, shame, pride, or embarrassment. And as a zinger, I would tell her that if she really believes that dogs can experience any of these complex emotions she’s putting herself at risk of being labeled an anthropomorphist – and nobody wants that.
Of course the likelihood of bumping into that former student is almost nil. This means that in lieu of that annoying question I’ll be cursed with an unfulfilled retort stuck in my brain – which will be just as annoying.
Hi Andy
Good essay.
I have an anecdote about dog guilt. Some years back, we had two dogs. One was about two. The other one was nine or ten. So, I’m at home and hear a crash in another room. When I investigate, I discover a potted plant had fallen to the floor and made a big mess. The dogs are standing next to the scene of the crime with “Who me?” expressions. I put my hands on my hips, scowled, and in a theatrical voice said “Who did this?” The young dog immediately crouched down with her tail between her legs, turned, and slunk out of the room.
Good times!
Obviously the younger dog hadn’t developed the social skill of hiding her guilt – which is comes with experience. Also, the older dog had probably learned that your bark is worse than your bite. Thanks for the comment.
There are harder problems. How could you know what was going on in your student’s head? Or she yours? And more important ones. How do you know what’s going on in your own head? And even harder and more important still: How do you know what’s going on outside of your head? I hope me asking about this doesn’t epistemuoff.
I cannot imagine I haven’t told you this before, but someone has figured out how to translate dog language and it turns out that they say only one thing,
“Hurry!, hurry!”
And cats…they say only,
“Wait….Wait.”
David
thanks for the comment. I don’t claim to be able to know what goes on in the heads of others (or in my own head for the matter) but I do know what people say goes on in their heads (and the heads of others – including dogs).
BTW, I love your epistemological pun.
I hadn’t heard about the dog and cat translations, but it does remind me of the last line of one of my favorite Billy Collins poems “The Revenent” which is about his dog coming back from the dead and telling him what he really thought while alive. His dog ends by saying, “everyone here can read and write, the dogs in poetry, the cats and the others in prose.” If you haven’t already seen it, here is a Youtube link of him reading the poem.
Have you read the Chet and Bernie mysteries by Spencer Quinn? He at least purports to know what a dog is thinking, and it’s hilarious.
I haven’t read those mysteries but will look into them. Thanks for the suggestion – hilarious is much needed nowadays.
[Note: The below comment is from Peter VB and was cut and pasted from an email]
Good essay, indeed, Andy, thought provoking but not for the dogs. It makes me wonder about the range of cognition and emotions that different breeds of dogs exhibit. So many breeds have been bred over generations to behave in expected ways. For example, we have a lovable mutt, Lady, who was rescued in averse circumstances in Ukiah, she has always been sweet and belly-rub happy especially with the grandkids. But couldn’t be trained to fetch unless it was a biscuit, instantly gobbled of course. When I ponder what Lady is thinking, food, a food deprived upbringing, always comes to mind. I compliment her often with the phrase, you’re a good, regular dog.
Compare with our son and daughter-in-law’s well-bred, newly acquired golden retriever puppy, Sally, who fetches and responds to voice commands much more readily, somehow waiting at the door to go out by sitting upright, alert, with no training at all. Talk about anthropomorphic interpretations, the mind reels. I swear she is reading out thoughts. But you know, dogs are dogs and we just love both of them, we are fortunate they are in our family. As for biscuits, I’m that way with Triscuits.
Peter VB