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Alex & Me: How a Scientist and a Parrot Discovered a Hidden World of Animal Intelligence--and Formed a Deep Bond in the Process
Alex & Me: How a Scientist and a Parrot Discovered a Hidden World of Animal Intelligence--and Formed a Deep Bond in the Process
Alex & Me: How a Scientist and a Parrot Discovered a Hidden World of Animal Intelligence--and Formed a Deep Bond in the Process
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Alex & Me: How a Scientist and a Parrot Discovered a Hidden World of Animal Intelligence--and Formed a Deep Bond in the Process

Rating: 4 out of 5 stars

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New York Times Bestseller

The remarkable true story of an extraordinary relationship between psychologist Irene M. Pepperberg and Alex, an African Grey parrot who proved scientists and accepted wisdom wrong by demonstrating an astonishing ability to communicate and understand complex ideas.

"You be good. I love you," were Alex's final words to his owner, research scientist Irene Pepperberg, before his premature death at age thirty-one on September 6, 2007. An African Grey parrot, Alex had a brain the size of a shelled walnut, yet he could add, sound out words, understand concepts like bigger, smaller, more, fewer, and none, and he disproved the widely accepted idea that birds possess no potential for language or anything remotely comparable to human intelligence.

Alex & Me is the incredible story of an amazing, irascible parrot and his best friend who stayed together through thick and thin for thirty years—the astonishing, moving, and unforgettable story of a landmark scientific achievement and a beautiful relationship.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherHarperCollins
Release dateOct 6, 2009
ISBN9780061980459
Alex & Me: How a Scientist and a Parrot Discovered a Hidden World of Animal Intelligence--and Formed a Deep Bond in the Process
Author

Irene Pepperberg

Irene M. Pepperberg is an associate research professor at Brandeis University in Massachusetts and teaches animal cognition at Harvard University. She is head of the Alex Foundation and author of The Alex Studies: Cognitive and Communicative Abilities of Grey Parrots.

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Rating: 4.0813953488372094 out of 5 stars
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  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    Not until the end of this book does Pepperberg wax philosophical to any degree. The story of the amazing Alex is one much more important than a cute parrot playfully challenging its owner and its trainers. It’s a story of giving the animal world its due as a full fledged member of the same universe that man occupies. Not as equals, but with the same importance in the scheme of things. The farther we as a species have gotten from this notion, the more destructive we have become. And if current political arrogance toward climate change is any indicator, we’re doomed.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    This was a wonderful look into the work with Alex the parrot, who participated in groundbreaking studies to show that animal intelligence is far more than just response to stimuli. Alex comes across as a wonderful personality, and of course the last words he said, "You be good. I love you," are tearjerkers! We have come far in our understanding of animals, and Alex was a big part of that. This is a wonderful story.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Alex and Me tells the surprisingly moving story of a 30 year professional relationship, scientific experiment, and dare I say "friendship" between Alex the parrot and his owner, the author Irene Pepperberg. Pepperberg, fell in love with birds as a lonely, shy, sad and silent little girl. She earned a Ph.D. in chemistry from MIT but fell out of love with it around the same time that she learned that serious science was being conducted on the topic of animal behavior and communication. After some self-study, she embarked on a new career. Alex and Me describes Alex in charming detail. He was a roguish and imperious bird, but awfully sweet. Everyone loved him. Because he could do things that no one thought a bird could do: develop a decent vocabulary, count, add, spell, reason, communicate, he became a bit of a media celebrity. Pepperberg does a good job describing the experiments, conveying Alex's talents and personality. She also conveys the long and at times lonely struggles she endures in her career, as an academic outside the mainstream, dependent on grant funding or a university brave enough to hire her. Alex died at age thirty in 2007, twenty years earlier than expected. His accomplishments proved a great deal about the power of bird brains. This book is a wonderful tribute to a remarkable parrot.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    This book did not convince me that Alex's vocalizations originated with Alex, as opposed to being responses to subliminal cues from the experimenters (the Clever Hans phenomenon). To be fair, it would be necessary to read the scientific papers to determine that. See the recommendation I have made from this book to The Alex Studies. Pepperberg may be right.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    I listened to the audiobook which was 5 segments, a fairly short book. I very much enjoyed the biographical bits of Pepperberg's youth, her education experience leading to a PhD in Chemistry, her struggles throughout her research and the descriptions of the variety of places where she did the work, and the descriptions of the training method and information found. The best parts were the little stories about Alex and her which went above and beyond the strict science. I loved this book.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Book CoverIn this touching and eye-opening memoir, Irene Pepperberg reflects on the three decades she spent both teaching and bonding with the amazing African Grey Parrot, Alex. Pepperberg, a life-long bird lover, describes Alex's life in great detail, from the nervous first days of Alex's homecoming to the gradual instruction into the cognitive tasks that eventually become his hallmark. Alex is a bird like no other and shows that for a bird with a brain the size of a shelled walnut, being a bird brain is not such a bad thing. In his amazing ability to label objects, his ability to add and his stunning demonstration of expressing the concept of zero, he begins to show the world at large that he is indeed an exceptional animal. This in turn begins to change the way that scientists and the average population view the intelligence and capability of animals in general. Along the way, Alex becomes a cultural icon and a much loved celebrity. But Alex's story is not only filled with his remarkable accomplishments, it is also full of his particular brand of humor and the displays of independence that truly made Alex one of a kind. Both riotously funny and blindingly sad, Alex & Me takes a peek into the life of a truly exceptional bird and the woman who shared and celebrated his life.I love animal books, so I was really delighted to get a chance to read Alex & Me. I had previously seen Alex and Irene on television and thought that he was a simply amazing bird. But until reading the book, I had no idea just how amazing he was. From the very beginning of the book, the stage was set for Alex to come along and wow me, which he did. But the parts of the book I really enjoyed the most were the parts where Alex shot from the hip and became a comic genius. Like the time he told a very upset Irene to "Calm down," or when, failing to receive a treat after competing a task successfully, he phonetically spells out the name of the treat that he wants. Or the times when he admonishes another bird in the lab to speak more clearly. There were lots of really great moments like that in the book, and as I read it became harder and harder for me to see Alex as just a trained animal and easier for me to see him as a very intelligent and sentient creature of nature.A lot of the page space in this book was given to describing the experiments that Pepperburg was working on with Alex. I thought this was interesting because it really highlighted the methodology and inventiveness of what Alex was being taught and compared it to the tests that had previously been run by other animal behaviorists. I was also surprised to discover that Alex always surpassed what was expected of him and that he sometimes taught himself new concepts. Though Pepperberg worked with several other birds, and speaks about them in this book, it is clear that Alex was her greatest success and the star of the show.The book also explores some of the problems that Pepperburg had securing funding and lab space for her work with Alex, and her frequent moves across country in her attempts to find the right place for the continuation of her work. I was particularly fond of her descriptions of her stint at The Lab at MIT, a sort of geeky technological warehouse that hosted a smorgasbord of studies and a host of inventive departments.Though most of the book was very informative and funny, the first sections deal with Pepperburg's tremendous grief at Alex's unexpected death, which occurred on September 6, 2007, and the huge public outpouring that the announcement of Alex's passing received. I think that it was very clever to start the book off this way, because it immediately drew me into Alex's story and really humanized him for me. It was also astonishing to see how much support flooded in for Pepperberg. Some people even included testimonials about how seeing Alex perform his wonderful feats had changed their lives in some way.One thing that was very interesting was the fact that early in the book, Pepperberg mentions how she had really wanted to attempt to limit the personal bonding that she and Alex shared. She had been afraid it would taint the work she was doing with him and their attachment to each other would not enable her to see him in an objective light. I find this kind of funny, because it is clear throughout the book that Alex is not just another project to Pepperberg, and that despite her attempts, she and Alex had formed a very unique and special relationship that went way beyond anything that I have ever known with even my most beloved pets.I really enjoyed this book and think it's a must-read for people who love animal stories. I have to admit that I laughed out loud a lot while reading this book, both at Alex's cleverness and at his inventiveness. It makes me sad to realize he is gone and that Pepperberg lost such a close companion and friend. The matter-of-fact tone of the writing coupled with the extraordinary story it captured was really a winner for me, as I think it would be for may others. A greatly engaging read.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    I never would have thought that a book about a bird could make me cry, but Alex & Me succeeded. I'm not much of a bird person. I've never had a bird for a pet, and when I've visited bird owners in the past the incessant chirping of their pets was less than endearing. After reading this heartwarming (and informative) book however, I found myself dreaming about life with an African Grey parrot.

    A big part of this book centered on the linguistic and cognitive abilities of Alex, and as someone who studied linguistics in college that really appealed to me. The text is written for the layperson though and is easy to understand, telling Irene Pepperberg's story as well as Alex's.

    In college I remember spending a very short amount of time learning about animal communication (probably a week or two out of my entire college education). We learned about chimpanzees using sign language, the intelligence of dolphins, and how birds communicate using birdsong. I have just a vague recollection of reading about Alex the parrot.

    Part of what I thought was so fascinating about Alex was not just his cognitive and speech abilities (which were amazing), but how prejudiced the scientific community was against the idea of birds being intelligent enough to communicate with meaning. By that I mean that Alex was speaking words and knew what he was saying, not just mimicking speech.

    I did cry when I read the passage where Alex died. I actually paused in my reading in order to soak in that section, went to check my email and found out that Michael Jackson died. I think I was more emotional about the news that Michael Jackson died than I would have been otherwise, because I was already misty-eyed from reading about Alex's passing.

    Alex and Me is an enchanting and informative read. I highly recommend this book to anyone who has any interest in learning more about the capacity of animals to communicate with humans.

    Oh, and I looked up how long African Grey parrots live - about 60 years. I guess that's not a pet you want to adopt without putting a lot of thought into it.
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    By science memoir standards, this one is pretty dry, but the work summarized within it is quite interesting.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    The books gives a simplified synopsis of the thirty years Alex and Irene worked together in answering the question "Does a parrot have the capability of developing language?" I believe that Alex provided the answer, Yes. In their years together Alex learned to label objects, he understood numbers up to six, he knew his colors, he had a concept of "none" and much more. This book was a lovely tribute to a little guy who died too soon.
  • Rating: 2 out of 5 stars
    2/5
    This book was interesting, but not really my style. I didn't really know that parrots were that smart. On the other hand, the author is a crazy parrot lady. I'm not really interested in pursuing anything related to parrots or this author.
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    It's interesting enough, but Pepperberg seems really detached and unfeeling. I get that she was trying to maintain academic and scientific distance from the experiments, but it's obvious from her own observations and videos I've seen of her with Alex (and later the other birds) that they really needed affection and love. As her own research proved, they're highly intelligent creatures (as well as being extremely sociable) but she deprived them of the love they need. It just seems so cruel.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    This was a book that I could not put down once I started it. Because I knew from the beginning that Alex, the African Grey parrot who helped Dr. Irene M. Pepperberg with her research, was no longer alive, I wanted to find out what happened to him. Along the way, I was introduced to two separate worlds. One was world of the investigator and how Dr. Pepperberg had to cope with the difficulties of obtaining research funding to carry on what was deemed as "off-the-beaten-track" research. The other was the world of the intellectual capabilities the African Grey parrot. Dr. Pepperberg had several of these, but Alex was the one with which she began her research and who became best-known of all her birds. Dr. Pepperberg describes the intertwining of these two worlds in a way that is captivating, humorous, and surprising. She ends her story with a beautiful note of how all nature is connected and Homo Sapiens are really not as supreme as we would like to think.
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    I'd been looking forward to this book but found it quite disappointing. The workmanlike prose grew tiring after a while; there were too many descriptions of the experiments and the author's various career moves and labs, at the expense of her thoughts on what these birds' intelligence consists of. And it was incomplete as well - I wanted to know what he died of, and how did he move from single words to complete sentences like Will you be in tomorrow? If he indeed said that, that's a big departure from three green triangles.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    A great and amazing story, but just an ok book. I loved learning about Alex and all he had learned and what an amazing bird he was, but as far as a good book to sit down and read this isn't it. If you have even a little interest in this subject you'll find this very interesting, however if you don't really care about animal communication I doubt you'll enjoy this book. i felt like the time periods went by at varying speeds which was a little weird, and I felt it jumped from idea to idea. I think the book could've been organized better becasue sometimes things came out of nowhere. I love the story of Alex but I wish this book had been composed differently so others who may not have a strong interest will still enjoy this book!
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    This book was written clearly (nothing special) but it was great to read about the authors' various experiments and experiences with Alex and her other Grays. He really was amazing.
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    This is the story of a woman trying to find her place in the world and the African Gray parrot who helped her do it. Dr. Irene Pepperberg was, and is, a female scientist working in the maligned field of research on animal intelligence. Much of the book is about her constant struggle to have her work accepted by the scientific community. Despite her rigorously designed experiments and meticulous methods, many scientists are not yet ready to believe the amazing things she, and other animal intelligence researchers, have discovered. And what Dr. Pepperberg has discovered is that birds are far more intelligent then we ever could have expected. The star of the book is Alex, the bird who has taught her most of what she knows. I was most amazed by Alex's brilliant personality. He was bossy, jealous, affection, and sometimes very funny. Many times during the experiments Alex would leap ahead displaying understanding many times greater then Dr. Pepperberg ever could have hoped. Those moments are breathtaking and I loved those parts of the book.Unfortunately the book is not as well written as I would have liked. Dr. Pepperderg is a serious scientist and her writing retains the seriousness and structure of a scientific document instead of a more easy, flowing style. Still, if you have any interest in parrots, animals, or the subject of animal intelligence the book is well worth the read.
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    Pepperberg’s ode to Alex is both entertaining and endearing, and the question of the African gray’s potential for language and thought is intriguing. To her credit, Pepperberg is conscientious in her attempts to apply scientific protocols to her work with Alex, though I was unable to entirely shake the anecdotal sources of some of her conclusions. That said, I am reminded of the pre-Darwinian debate over whether mankind occupies a uniquely privileged place in the cosmos. Is it equally unfounded to insist that language, thought and reflection belong only to us? While it is impossible in Alex’s case to rule out a complex form of operant conditioning, there seem to be no categorical reasons that the rudiments of something language-like could not occur more than once throughout the tree of life. Our kinship to other living organisms runs at least as deep as our propensity to anthropomorphize.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    A fascinating and uplifting story of friendship between a scientist and a grey parrot. Recommended for everyone who thinks only humans (or only mammals) have intelligence.....
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    In Sept. 2007, Alex, a 31 year- gray African parrot, the most famous parrot in the world, died, emotionally devastating the women who had had him for 30 years and was the cause of his fame. Irene Pepperberg grew up with birds all her life, then got her Ph.D. in theoretical chemistry. Yet the work didn't satisfy her, and she turned to studying cognition and language acquisition in the African gray parrot. African grays were chosen because their pronunciation is better than other birds capable of speech.Pepperberg began trauning Alex to recognize shapes, colors, and numbers. His capabilities for doing so were astounding. During the 30 years of training, he on his own picked up the abstract concept of none, was able to recognize what was same and what was different, and more. With other scientists studying animal cognition, this has caused a revolution, showing that animals are capable of thought, and that a creature with a brain the size of a shelled walnut was capable of abstract concepts.Pepperburg summed up her scientific studies in her previous book, The Alex Studies. This book in more personal, about her life and how it led her to this work, about her deep bond with Alex, the depth of which even she was not aware of until his loss, and about the studies she did with Alex. His personality emerges as the alpha bird, bossy, playful, and loving. His last words to her were "You be good. I love you. You'll be in tomorrow"?There are great moments of humor. In one, Alex was at the vets and near the desk of the accountant. He asked the accountant, "want a nut?" "No". "Want corn" "No, Alex, thank you"... this went on a while. Finally, Alex petulantly asked, "Well, what DO you want?". The accountant laughed and started paying attention to Alex, which is what he wanted.The book begins with a discussion of what Pepperberg calls her "It's a Wonderful Life" moment. After Alex's death, emails and letters poured in from people who let her know just how much she and Alex had meant in their lives... from scientists, animal lovers, and others.The book is fairly short, written for a lay person, and written well. Marvelous!
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Book OverviewThe subtitle for this book is "How a Scientist and a Parrot Discovered a Hidden World of Animal Intelligence—and Formed A Deep Bond in the Process." I think this sums it up pretty well as this book is many things—a memoir of Irene Pepperberg and her work with Alex, an exploration of animal intelligence, and a love story between Alex and Irene.Irene and Alex worked together for 30 years, and, in the process, shattered ideas about what level of communication animals could achieve. Alex was an African Grey parrot and had a brain the size of a shelled walnut. Yet his work with Irene proved he was capable of complex intellectual feats—such as adding, sounding out words and understanding concepts such as bigger, smaller, more, fewer and none. He demonstrated that birds have a capacity for language that is deeper than simple imitation. He also exhibited a sense of humor, playfulness and seemed capable of emotions. Consider his last words to Irene: "You be good. I love you."The book begins with some background on Irene Pepperberg's formative years—her lonely childhood, her early experiences with pet birds, her scientific background and her eventual decision to pursue human-animal communication as her life's work. Her work with Alex was ground-breaking and often occurred at great personal expense to both Irene and Alex—both financially and emotionally. For much of her career, Irene had to hustle to find lab space, funding and staff support. Multiple moves to different academic environments characterized her early career until her research began getting recognition and financial support. In fact, much of her research happened only because of Irene's own tireless efforts to raise funds for The Alex Foundation, which supported her work when funding and academic positions were scarce.The bulk of the book documents Irene's work with Alex—descriptions of his training, first-hand glimpses at his multiple breakthroughs, understandable explanations of linguistics and why what Alex was doing was so remarkable. Throughout her research with Alex, Irene always applied scientific methods and approaches. Conscious of the naysayers who criticized the field of human-animal communication, Irene was careful to avoid being too "close" to Alex—rigorously documenting their training and forcing Alex to repeat tasks again and again to ensure her research was scientifically sound.Yet when Alex died prematurely at the age of 31, Irene succumbed to grief and allowed herself to feel—perhaps for the first time—the full measure of love she had for Alex. With his death, she finally allowed herself to discard the clinical distance she always attempted to maintain with Alex and feel the full wave of her love, respect and grief for him. With this book, Irene is finally able to present the full story of her work with Alex—not just the scientific aspects but the emotional bonds they shared and developed over their long relationship.My ThoughtsI first came across the story of Alex when I read his obituary in The Economist Book of Obituaries. Alex was the only non-human in the book (and even made the cover). I was intrigued by his obituary, which talked glowingly of Irene's work with Alex. I then saw reviews of this book on several book blogs and knew I had to read it.This book was wonderful on so many levels. The writing is clear-eyed and accessible, and the descriptions of the training and breakthroughs are down-to-earth and easily understandable. Yet Irene also manages to provide a loving and affectionate look at Alex himself, who the reader comes to know and love during the course of the book. Irene does a brilliant job of explaining just enough so that non-scientific readers understand what was so remarkable about their research together but balances it out with anecdotal stories that make Alex's personality come alive.Although the book sometimes covers Irene's personal life, she keeps the focus firmly on her work with Alex. In the course of the book, Irene gets married and eventually divorced, but she doesn't spend too much time on these aspects of her life. Most of the personal information is provided simply as a way to explain how she came to her life's work and some of the personal costs involved in her dedication to her work with Alex. I admire Irene for not delving into self-pity as it is clear that she sacrificed much of her life to her work with Alex. She never comes across as sorry for herself or regretful of the high price she may have paid in her personal life.The book was a fast and enjoyable read, though I can't imagine any reader coming away without being moved and saddened by Alex's early death. (African Greys typically live up to 60 years.) As I read, I kept marking page after page of passages I particularly liked and wanted to share in my review. Here are just a few of them to give you a feel for Irene's writing and the tone of the book.***** He'd answered these kinds of questions dozens of times, and yet we still kept asking them, because we needed our statistical sample. You could imagine him thinking, I've already told you that, stupid or simply, This is getting very boring. He was like the bright little kid at school who finds none of the work challenging and so passes the time by making trouble. Sometimes, however, Alex chose to show his opinion of the boring task at hand by playing with our heads. For instance, we would ask him, "What color key?" and he would give every color in his repertoire, skipping only the correct color. Eventually, he became quite ingenious with this game, having more fun getting us agitated rather than giving us the answers we wanted and he surely knew. We were pretty certain he wasn't making mistakes, because it was statistically near to impossible that he could list all but the correct answer. These observations are not science, but they tell you a lot about what was going on in his head; they tell you a lot about how sophisticated his cognitive processes really were.***** By now I had realized he was just messing with my head. I knew he knew the correct answer. "OK, Alex," I said sternly. "You're just going to have to take a time-out." I took him to his room and closed the door. "Two...two...two...I'm sorry...come here!" Linda and I immediately heard coming from behind Alex's closed door. "Two...come here...two." Linda and I were laughing to the point of tears. "I guess Alex is fully himself again," I finally was able to say to Linda. "The little rascal!"***** After a local television program that featured Alex, someone sent him a toy parrot, one that played songs when you pushed a button. We suspended it over one side of Alex's table, and he completely ignored it. After about a week, one day he looked intently at the suspended parrot, walked up to it, and said "You tickle." He then bent his head over toward the toy, the way he would to a student, who would then dutifully tickle Alex's neck. Nothing happened, of course. After a few seconds he looked up at the toy, said "You turkey," and stalked off in a huff. The students sometimes said "You turkey" to Alex when he did dumb things. He had apparently learned how to use that stinging epithet without any training.My Final RecommendationThis is a charming book that was a delight to read. Not only does it provide insight into human-animal communication and animal intelligence, it is also a deeply felt book about the strong bonds that can develop between animals and humans. In addition, you'll learn a bit about linguistics and the travails of being a research scientist. It is hard for me to imagine anyone who wouldn't enjoy this book at some level. And, if you own a parrot, I think this book would be a must read for you.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Important story, both philosophically and scientifically. Pepperberg earns a major foul for not sharing Alex's autopsy results though--a seasoned scientist should know better.
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    Alex is a fascinating bird. However, the book was not as interesting as it could have been. I really wanted to know more about the bird and the experiments and less about the author. Also the book didn't feel authentic. It felt as though she was trying not to offend anyone she wrote about in the book. Also she was trying to show that she was not too close to Alex to do good scientific research. But all of that made for a boring book.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    A wonderful account of Irene Pepperberg and her amazing African Grey parrot, Alex. Alex was well known for disproving many theories about animal cognition, and his death was a shock and sadness to so many people. In this book, Pepperberg talks about her life with Alex, and other birds, and the discoveries they made. There were many problems, such as finding funding, figuring out the right training methods, and just dealing with the stubborness of Alex who did his best to get what he wanted, when he wanted it. The book also has some cute anecdotes about Alex.
    Overall, I enjoyed this book. As someone in the science field, I had heard many things about Alex and his accomplishments and was very saddened to hear of his death. It was nice to see a bit of insight to his daily life and the efforts that went into discovering just how smart he really was.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    Thanks to Pepperberg readers have been given a wonderful story (and study) of how an animal, most especially one who was thought to only mimic, was capable of "sophisticated information processing - thinking." Alex was a remarkable birdbrain.
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    I had read the obituary of Alex, an African grey parrot, in an anthology of Economist obituaries, but didn't know much beyond that. In this memoir, the scientist who trained Alex (an acronym for Avian Learning EXperiment) tells their story. Without getting too technical, the author tells about how she did research -- often with minimal funding and without much support from the scientific community -- that changed the way the world looks at "bird brains." This is a short book, with large type, a quick read. It's simple enough to be read by precocious eight-year-olds, but this adult didn't find it altogether satisfying. It will be interesting to see what kind of discussion it engenders at our non-fiction group.
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    This is a very interesting story. I learned about Alex the parrot in a class of mine and instantly wanted to know more. This provides a great background into what Alex (and therefore many other creatures) can be capable of. If you're looking for more information about animal communication and thought processes, this is a great resource. Do be wary if you're looking for a good read, though--to put it bluntly, scientist ain't no writer. It drags on at points (if the title gives you any indication), waxes poetic quite a lot at the end, and so on. But don't let that stop you if you're interested in the subject.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    This is Irene Pepperberg's moving tribute to Alex, the African Grey parrot that she worked with for thirty years, and whose linguistic and mental abilities helped upset assumptions about animal cognition. Pepperberg does hit the high points of her research results, but readers who are really interested in the science of their work should read her 2000 book The Alex Studies. Pepperberg chronicles her life, and the book is also interesting for its look at the life of a researcher and professor: it can be quite stressful, having to constantly be searching for grants and a new job, when one doesn't get tenure. When one is doing edgy research that contradicts long-held assumptions, it only becomes harder. The human-bird interactions are both fascinating and amusing. Alex knew what he wanted, and intended to make sure that his humans gave it to him. He would refuse to work when bored, demand treats whether or not it was convenient, and generally attempt to make it clear that he was top bird, a position perhaps exceeding top person. It was certainly eye-opening for me: I had no real appreciation of the personality and intelligence of birds. I was left with a question: was Alex unusual, even unique? But I suppose that I should take my own advice and read the Alex Studies. Particularly interesting for people with an interest in human-animal interactions, birds, and linguistics.
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    While I did admire this woman for tackling what was thought (at that point in time) to be a man's job as a scientist and while I found some of the stories endearing, it did drag....
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    Simply one of the greatest books ever written in the field of ethology, because it is not so much about ethology as about the extraordinary relationship between one person and a parrot. Pepperberg's reluctance to step outside an objective approach to her work with Alex makes this more than a good or interesting book, because in the end it is her transcending objectivity (but blink and you'll miss it) that takes this story into exceptional territory.
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    I was expecting a more heart-wrenching story, less about scientific facts and more about Irene's bond with Alex. Instead it seemed like a bunch of little snippets of things Alex could do with some funny emotional things in-between. I enjoyed it, but the book did not meet my expectations. This is not what I expected from reading the synopsis on the back.

Book preview

Alex & Me - Irene Pepperberg

Chapter 1

My Wonderful Life Moment

How much impact could a one-pound ball of feathers have on the world? It took death for me to find out. And so I write the story of a particular bird’s life, but it must begin at the end.

"Brainy Parrot Dies, Emotive to the End," ran a New York Times science section headline on September 11, 2007, the day after our press release announcing Alex’s passing. He knew his colors and shapes, he learned more than 100 English words, wrote Benedict Carey, and with his own brand of one-liners he established himself in television shows, scientific reports and news articles as perhaps the world’s most famous talking bird. Carey quoted my friend, colleague, and expert on dolphin and elephant communication, Diana Reiss: The work revolutionized the way we think of bird brains. That used to be a pejorative, but now we look at those brains—at least Alex’s—with some awe.

I found myself saying much the same thing in the newspaper, magazine, radio, and television interviews that overwhelmed me those first few days. People would ask, What is all the fuss about, why was Alex so special? and I’d say, Because a bird with a brain the size of a shelled walnut could do the kinds of things that young children do. And that changed our perception of what we mean by ‘bird brain.’ It changed the way we think about animal thinking. That was the scientific truth I had known for many years, and now the idea was beginning to be accepted. But that didn’t help me with the personal devastation.

Friends drove up from Washington, D.C., that first weekend to ensure I would not be alone, that I would eat and at least try to rest. I functioned each minute, hour, day on automatic pilot, doing whatever was necessary, deprived of sleep, torn by grief. And all amidst this very public outpouring. I was aware of it, of course, yet not fully aware, not then, anyway. I was cognizant of the gathering acclaim, inevitably so because of this endless stream of interviews. But it seemed to involve someone else, or at least had an unreality to it. The phone would ring and I’d click into interview mode, responding as I had many other times when something Alex had done occasioned a media blitz, responding in a professional manner to the inquiries. This time, however, I’d fall apart until the next call.

Pictures of Alex appeared on CNN, in Time magazine, and in scores of other places across the country. National Public Radio ran a story on All Things Considered: Alex the Parrot, an Apt Student, Passes Away. ATC’s host, Melissa Block, said, Alex shattered the notion that parrots are only capable of mimicking words. Diane Sawyer did a two-and-a-half-minute segment on ABC’s Good Morning America—long for morning television, I’m told. And now I have a kind of obituary, she began, and I want to inform the next of kin about a death in the family. And, yes, the next of kin would be all of us. She said that Alex had been a kind of bird genius, opening new vistas on what animals can do. She aired a video that showed Alex answering questions about the color, shape, and number of objects, and so on. The video landed on YouTube. The previous day, CBS anchor Katie Couric devoted more time to Alex’s life and death than to major political stories.

Two days later, the prominent British newspaper, The Guardian, wrote, America is in mourning. Alex, the African Grey parrot who was smarter than the average U.S. president, has died at the relatively tender age of 31. The story was spreading around the world, eventually to Australia. Robyn Williams, from the Australian Broadcasting Corporation’s radio Science Show, interviewed me, the second time we’d talked about Alex and his achievements. The first time, five years earlier, we’d talked about what other feats Alex might achieve in his future. Not this time.

I was told that the New York Times article had been the most e-mailed story of the day, even while General David Petraeus was testifying in Washington, D.C., on Iraq. A second New York Times article, on September 12, in its Editorial Notebook section, was titled simply Alex the Parrot, by Verlyn Klinkenborg. This piece was a little more philosophical than most. Thinking about animals—and especially thinking about whether animals can think—is like looking at the world through a two-way mirror, Klinkenborg began. There, for example, on the other side of the mirror, is Alex…. But looking at Alex, who mastered a surprising vocabulary of words and concepts, the question is always how much of our reflection we see. The article ended: The value [of the work] lies in our surprise, our renewed awareness of how little we allow ourselves to expect from the animals around us. A lovely piece, another acknowledgment. But it still felt unreal.

Even Jay Leno had a crack at Alex, on his late-night TV show. (A friend told me about it; I don’t have a working TV.) Sad news: a thirty-year-old parrot by the name of Alex, who had been used by researchers at Harvard University to study how parrots communicate, has died, said Leno. I believe his last words were, ‘Yes, I want a cracker!’ He went on, This parrot was very intelligent. They say he knew over one hundred words. They say his intelligence was somewhere between a dog and Miss Teen South Carolina. Sigh.

By now every major newspaper had covered Alex’s death, noting his remarkable cognitive skills and our breakthrough work together. Even the venerable British science journal Nature wrote about it in Farewell to a Famous Parrot. Pepperberg has published dozens of scientific papers about Alex’s verbal, mathematical and cognitive abilities, noted David Chandler, and the two have appeared on a wide variety of television programmes and popular press stories. Chandler continued, In the process, they have transformed people’s understanding of the mental abilities of non-human animals. (A bittersweet irony here: when I started working with Alex three decades earlier, a paper I submitted to Nature was summarily dismissed without review—as was another I had submitted more recently.)

If, in retelling this outpouring of public recognition, I seem oddly absent, it is because in truth I was. Inasmuch as I was aware of article after article—and friends were assiduous in sending them to me—I continued to let them and their message wash over me. Yes, I was busy with the issue of facing and surviving each new day, busy being interviewed, busy with the lab. At the same time, I could hardly hear what was being said. I had for years been hoping that Alex’s achievements would be fully acknowledged, and now it had happened, but I couldn’t see it clearly, hear it clearly. Not immediately, anyway.

When, a little more than a week after Alex left me, the New York Times did a third article, "Alex Wanted a Cracker, but Did He Want One?" I began to take notice. George Johnson, a senior science writer, beautifully described the research, and addressed the issue of intention, implicit in the article’s title. In the United States, the Times is a touch-stone for public recognition, whether in politics, the arts, or the sciences. And here was Alex, appearing three times within a week in the paper of record. Hmm, I thought. Maybe there’s something to all this?

Then, a few days later, a friend called. "Irene, you are never going to believe this. Alex is in the Economist!" She was right. I wasn’t going to believe it. The Economist is probably the world’s preeminent weekly magazine on politics, finance, and business. Each week it has a one-page obituary of some notable dignitary. In the September 20 issue, Alex was that dignitary. Alex’s death, said the article, brought to an end a life spent learning complex tasks that, it had been originally thought, only primates could master. The obituary went on to say that by the end [of the study] Alex had the intelligence of a five-year-old child and had not reached his full potential. Not reached his full potential—how true, how tragically true.

Given that in the weeks prior to Alex’s obit the Economist had run Luciano Pavarotti’s, Ingmar Bergman’s, and Lady Bird Johnson’s, I knew just how big an honor it was for Alex to be on this obituary page. It really caught my attention.

In the days and weeks following Alex’s death I was roiled by multiple tsunamis of surprise, around me and within me, while struggling to deal with the practical matters, answering phone calls, making arrangements, and much more, because of who Alex was. And my mind was desperately churning: What’s to become of the lab? What’s to become of the research? What’s to become of everything we’ve created? What’s to become of me?

I felt swept up in the kind of speeded-up, whirling, swirling cloudscape that one sometimes sees in movies. Except that the concept of the cloudscape went beyond the physical image of chaos to a reality that turned upside down everything that I knew, or thought I knew, about my life.

And surprise was indeed the correct term, even if too simple a word to impart the true weight of its message. The sense of loss, grief, and desertion that tore viscerally at my heart and soul at the passing of my one-pound colleague and companion of three decades was of a degree and intensity I had never anticipated, nor could have imagined. A huge torrent of love and caring, assiduously kept in check by a solid dam for all that time, suddenly burst through; the liberated flood of emotions swept all reason before it. I have never felt such pain nor shed more tears. And hope never to again.

Now, I said that a great torrent of emotions had been assiduously kept in check for three decades, as if by some third party I’d hired to do the job, some outside contractor, Emotion Controllers, Incorporated. Of course, the one doing the controlling all that time had been me. My decision. My plan. My implementation. But I had become so good at implementing my plan of emotional distance that this profound torrent of feelings that was the subterranean currency between Alex and me lay out of sight, invisible even to me, beyond the rugged mountains of the cause of scientific objectivity. Mostly invisible, anyway. Mostly out of sight.

I realize that what I just said might make little or no sense to many people, might seem a little Tolkienesque, even. But, in truth, there is something a little Tolkienesque about the thirty-year journey that Alex and I undertook together: the struggles, the initial triumphs, the setbacks, the unexpected and often stunning achievements. And, of course, the premature, final separation. All will unfold, including the rationale for erecting the emotion dam, in the following pages of Alex & Me. But my point here is that the internal tsunami I experienced after Alex left me and traveled to what many call the Rainbow Bridge was the seismic shock of previously unexpressed emotion, emotion now set free. Yes, I had always cared about Alex, always referred to him as my close colleague, and always treated him with the kind of affection and respect one would have for any close colleague. But I also always had had to maintain my distance, to report the science objectively. Now there would be no more science, at least with Alex, and I could no longer maintain that objectivity.

The external tsunami was no less surprising. As I weathered the media onslaught, e-mail condolences began to arrive. A trickle at first, but within a few hours it became a torrent, then a flood. Jaimi Torok, our Web master, set up a separate condolence site, Remembering Alex, so as not to overwhelm the server of the foundation that supported my research with Alex. More than two thousand messages were posted within a week, three thousand by the end of the month; my own e-mail was awash with just as many. Some were from people I knew, such as former students; I was comforted by hearing how their time with Alex and me had been so important to them and had helped steer them in their lives. Some were from people who had visited the lab just once and wanted to remember that special occasion and share it again. But most were from complete strangers, people who were simply moved to write. Many were parrot people, of course, but not all. And what they wrote truly astonished me, another of those tsunamis of surprise.

Of course, I wasn’t totally unaware of Alex’s impact. Soon after Alex and I started working together, I began to be invited to talk at parrot clubs and conferences, to tell people what I had discovered in my work with Alex. Parrot owners are passionate about their birds, and what I told these parrot people about Alex vindicated what they knew about their own birds. They could tell their skeptical friends, See, I told you so! This theme was prominent in the condolence Web site. Let me give a few examples:

It goes without saying that Alex and Irene pushed into realms others thought at minimum silly and otherwise absurd, but we Grey folk know better, wrote Laurence Kleiner, a pediatric neurosurgeon at Children’s Hospital in Dayton, Ohio. He is also president of Wings Over the Rainbow, a rescue/rehab organization for abandoned or unwanted birds. Alex was the beacon and Irene the charge to make it happen; to show the world how truly remarkable our avian friends are. Displaying so elegantly the talents and feelings hithertofore attributed only to humans; how egocentric of us as a species…Alex will be remembered always by thousands.

I cried like a baby when I heard about Alex’s untimely death, wrote Linda Ruth. As a biologist, veterinarian and lifelong bird owner, I found Alex’s accomplishment to be a remarkable demonstration of the intelligence and abilities many animals have…. Using Alex [as an example] I have been able to convince many skeptics that the gulf between humans and animals is not nearly as deep as once thought.

As a co-owner of an exceptional Grey, I am devastated by this shocking news, wrote a male financial executive in New England. I am not an overly sensitive or maudlin person, but I had to leave work for a while upon learning of Alex’s death, and my eyes have been welling up at various points throughout the day. My deepest sympathies to all of you who have worked so hard with this inimitable, surpassingly beautiful creature.

Gandhi once said ‘Be the change you want to see in the world,’ wrote Karen Webster, the managing director of the Anchorage chapter of Parrot Education & Adoption Center. Irene and Alex were that change. One woman working with one (in the beginning, anyway) gray ball of personality has helped bring greater understanding and thus vast improvement into the lives of parrots worldwide. Quite a legacy.

As you will come to see in the following chapters, science was what drove me so hard over the years as I tried to understand the workings of brains of creatures other than ourselves, lowlier than ourselves. Many people wrote beautifully about this aspect of our lives, and how the science was bound together with Alex’s emotional impact:

I taught an undergraduate course in animal behavior a few years ago and introduced the class to Alex, showing the infamous PBS video with Alan Alda, said Deborah Duffy, a researcher in animal behavior at the School of Veterinary Medicine, University of Pennsylvania. "They were amazed! Alex made a strong impression on my students and

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