Research non-profits like the Earth Species Project and the Cetacean Translation Initiative are training machine learning models on vast collections of vocalizations from whales, birds, and other species. Even Baidu, China’s equivalent to Google, has filed a patent for an artificial intelligence (AI) system that interprets animal sounds and emotions.

Amid this ambition and optimism, this paper pauses to ask a harder question: What happens when animals finally answer? Using research from animal ethics, AI governance, linguistics, and political theory, the author explores how this technology might redefine our relationship with animals and what needs to be in place before that happens.

What Counts As “Talking”?

The author first questions whether true conversation with animals is even possible. For centuries, language was seen as uniquely human because it conveys abstract ideas and intentions from a limited set of sounds, organized by grammar and syntax. Animal calls, by contrast, were considered instinctive. Yet, studies now show that animal communication can be purposeful and structured, even if it lacks human grammar. Elephants may call each other by name and vervet monkeys use distinct alarms for leopards and eagles.

AI may someday detect patterns across species in how living beings express universal experiences like grief, fear, or hunger. But even so, translation isn’t the same as understanding.

AI doesn’t actually understand anything. It identifies patterns and makes predictions based on data it’s trained on. So when an algorithm turns a whale song into “I’m lonely,” it reorganizes their vocalizations to fit our linguistics and behavioral template. The output projects our worldview, and could be a mistranslation of what the whale was expressing.

Understanding, the author asserts, requires acknowledging that meaning arises from a creature’s way of being in the world. No algorithm, no matter how advanced, can make us know what it’s like to be another species.

Does Language Create Moral Standing?

Language and reason historically justified a hierarchy that reserved rights for humans and objectified animals. Modern ethicists contend that moral worth resides in sentience — the capacity to suffer, desire, and flourish — rather than language. Although we now widely accept that animals are sentient, most are still considered property under the law.

The author suggests that AI translators could be what finally changes this. If an animal could clearly express fear, pain, or distress — if we heard them say “I’m afraid” or “I’m hurting” — then it could make ignoring their suffering untenable. Direct communication could humanize animals in laws and culture, possibly granting them new rights or even personhood.

But the author is careful, as this could imply that speech is still the bar for moral consideration. They state that communication should reveal worth already present, not bestow it. Some animals might be easier for us to understand than others. Octopuses or insects, for instance, may stay silent and enigmatic because they’re very different from mammals. If we start valuing only the animals who can “talk back,” we risk rebuilding the very hierarchy this technology was meant to dissolve.

If They Talk, We Must Listen

The author argues that once animals can express distress, refusal, or preference, humans will gain new responsibilities. Namely, we’ll be expected to act on what they tell us.

To ask is to be prepared for an answer, and to respect it. We already recognize agency and moral worth in nonverbal humans, such as infants and individuals with cognitive impairments. We infer their comfort, pain, or will through behavior and treat those interactions as meaningful. The same consideration should be given to animals; we have a duty to seek and respect their consent where possible.

Animals will no longer be objects in our society. We’ll therefore need to overhaul how we farm, research, and manage other species. Presently, humans act unilaterally — we don’t ask permission before we experiment, transport, breed, or collect data from them. This would have to change. Animals, too, should be offered voluntary participation wherever possible. Their simple “no” should be respected, and we shouldn’t coerce them into doing what we want.

The Illusion Of Equality

In theory, AI translation could redistribute power, allowing society to recognize animal intelligence, emotion, and individuality. Ethics, laws, and policies that have long oppressed them could be revised with their input and animals might even become equal to humans.

Yet, the author warns that this kind of equality would be an illusion. Humans will design the technology and choose which species to use it on. We’ll give attention to charismatic animals who sound intelligent or relatable, while overlooking reptiles, rodents, insects, and fishes. We’ll also decide what’s acceptable for animals to say. If they express something we dislike, such as demanding their freedom, we could dismiss it as a translation error.

We’ll maintain power most of all by insisting that animals speak in ways we already understand. This will keep humans in control of what knowledge is and what animals mean when they talk. AI will inevitably render their voices through human syntax, semantics, and perspective. The familiar phrases it produces (“I’m hungry,” “I’m sad”) may make us feel we understand them, but those words belong to us, not to the animals.

Actual equality would mean listening to animals communicate in their own ways, even when we can’t fully translate what they mean. And unless we approach this technology with humility and restraint, our domination may just expand to control their narratives as well as their bodies.

Ethical Guidelines For Interspecies AI Communication

All technology is vulnerable to misuse. The same algorithms used to understand animals could be used to harm or control them for human benefit. AI translation devices could be used to track and lure animals for hunting or poaching, obscure the suffering involved in factory farming, manipulate animals for tourism, or commodify animal voices into content owned and controlled by corporations.

Before translators exist, the author urges researchers and policymakers to establish explicit ethical guidelines. If we wait until the devices are fully commercialized, companies will already own the patents and data pipelines that control the platforms. Fusing concepts from AI ethics, animal ethics, and bioethics, they propose these guidelines:

• Do no harm: Don’t use AI in ways that stress, coerce, or endanger animals.
• Act for benefit: Use this technology to improve animal lives, not just to entertain people, indulge human curiosity, or amass profits.
• Respect autonomy: Animals should be free to walk away or stop talking to us. Their participation has to be voluntary.
• Honor privacy and dignity: Refrain from surveilling, intrusive monitoring, or trivializing what animals tell us.
• Remain transparent: Be upfront about what we don’t know, and don’t alter translations to make them more palatable to humans.
• Justice and inclusivity: Don’t restrict the benefits of this technology to charismatic species, the wealthiest countries, or the richest people.

The author also suggests that education and outreach will be necessary to safely integrate this technology into our society. The public needs interpretive humility — to understand how little we actually know about animal minds, and that AI translations aren’t direct subtitles. Staying humble and honest about what we know and don’t know will be essential to using AI responsibly.

Above all, they stress that we proceed slowly with this technology. Every stage of development should be evaluated by a panel of multidisciplinary experts. Ethics boards and veterinarians should oversee pilot studies, and if animals show signs of stress or confusion, we should stop immediately.

Conclusions

Much of what this conceptual paper outlines is hypothetical, but plausible. Though the author’s recommendations target researchers and policymakers, there are active interspecies communication projects for which advocates can demand the same transparency, ethical oversight, and proactive governance.

The biggest takeaway is a reminder that AI itself isn’t moral or immoral — it only reflects the motives of its makers. So why do we want to talk to animals? What relationship are we trying to have with them? If humans approach animals as equals deserving respect, translation might help us understand them better. But if the motive is curiosity, control, or entertainment, it will only intensify our existing domination.

Most importantly, we must confront the author’s final question: even if we can talk to animals using AI, should we?