We’re typically not going to out-sniff a dog, but we’re not completely hopeless
Q. If you asked a pack of wild dogs what they thought about democracy, you might get a surprising answer. A. When deciding whether or not to move to a new location, a pack of African wild dogs will gather in a “social rally,” a high-energy greeting ceremony where individuals “vote” to move by emitting audible rapid nasal exhalations (“sneezing”). Writing in “Proceedings of the Royal Society B,” Brown University researcher Reena Walker and her colleagues report that more sneezes mean a higher probability that a pack will move. Wild dog packs have a strong dominance hierarchy, and rallies initiated by dominant individuals require only a few sneezes to elect relocation. But even without leader support, the rank-and- file can force relocation with enough sneezes. Conclude the authors, “We found that sneezes, a previously undocumented unvoiced sound in the species…, may function as a voting mechanism to establish group consensus in an otherwise despotically driven social system.” Q. Rather than some potentially painful swordplay, let’s opt instead for some wordplay from sword fighting. Can you explain how the following are used in the English language: “contretemps,” “ensiform,” “feint” and “hilt”? A. “Contretemps” was originally a fencing term meaning a thrust made at the wrong time, says Anu Garg on his “A.Word.A.Day” web site. So metaphorically the word can mean an unforeseen and unfortunate occurrence, or a disagreement or dispute. Next, from Latin “ensis” (sword) comes “ensiform,” shaped like a sword or sword blade.
Two older, more commonly known words are “feint,” a deceptive move, especially in fencing or boxing, first documented in 1330; and “hilt,” a handle of a sword or dagger, used in the phrase “to the hilt,” that is, to the maximum extent (earliest documented use around 1000).
As Garg says, “Sometimes just the right word, the right remark, the right joke can disarm an adversary. Remember, you may be swordless but you are never wordless.” Q. Compared to rats, pigs, mice and dogs, how does the human sense of smell stack up? And how would such a thing even be measured? A. The measurements aren’t easy. “People can tell you when a certain scent is no longer detectable. But each animal has to learn to associate a particular odor with a reward and then do something, like press a button, to let researchers know when they smell it,” says Ashley Braun in “Discover” magazine. Humans have sniffed over 3,000 different scents for science out of the trillions possible, but the highest number recorded for any animal species (spider monkeys) is only 81.
When odor sensitivity researcher Matthias Laska of Sweden’s Linköping University compared humans and 17 other mammals, he found that the more data he collected, “the more interesting the picture became.” Humans are more sensitive than rats for 31 of the 41 odorants tested for both species (76%), more sensitive than pigs for 3 of 5 (60%), more sensitive than mice for 35 of 65 (54%), and even more sensitive than dogs for 5 of 15 (33%). Dogs — carnivorous hunters — excel in detecting “meaty” smells, while humans — omnivorous fruit and plant eaters — have sensitive noses for vegetation.
As Laska put it, humans “are not as hopeless as the classical wisdom will tell us, and dogs are not the super nose of the universe for everything.”