A fourteen-hour discussion among the world’s leading academic psychologists, sociologists, biologists, anthropologists, and philosophers ended in consensus on a new definition of what it means to be human.
Previous definitions of what made humans distinctive within the animal kingdom, such as being “the tool-using species” or “the language-using species” have each briefly allowed us to hold ourselves above the brute beast, but have eventually fallen by the wayside as science uncovered greater and greater complexity in the lower orders: dolphins communicating with chirps and squeaks and chimps using stone and wood tools. Other potential distinguishing points, such as the ability to feel loyalty or devotion, did not withstand the barest observation of various bird species that have monogamy rates much higher than those found in human communities. Altruism has been proposed as another distinguishing feature, but after researchers defined it in such a way as to rule out behaviors such as maternal nursing and primate grooming, they could not locate the quality in humans either.
The idea that only humans drink beer from cans affixed to headgear was rejected as a difference of degree, not kind. The proposal that only humans ride sleds onto half-frozen ponds to see if they can get across was disproved when a drunk man in Vermont put his bichon frise on a sled and pointed it at the water. The dog was seen to bark happily before going under.
All of this background was revisited in the first seven hours of debate without resolution. But then one computer scientist ventured the definition that only humans could create a machine capable of outsmarting its creators. This led to three hours of discussion about whether machines were conscious. Another hour was lost comparing computers to bee hives.
Over the next two hours, discussion lagged, as the scholars became hungry; their sponsors had declared that no dinner would be served until the group had reached a final definition. The academics had all signed contracts agreeing to these terms before accepting their honoraria, and a sociologist was heard to complain that the group was not properly incentivized to reach broad consensus. A philologist referred to Sartre’s quip, “Hell is other people,” and said, “We’re all trying to eat from long spoons.”
Finally, a linguist ventured a definition that quickly gained wide backing: humans are “the acronym-using species.” Even the most experienced field biologists could think of no examples of animals using acronyms. A philosopher insisted that language was too indeterminate to form the basis of any definition, but she was shouted down.
The proposition received 99% support in a show of hands, and the participants proceeded to a cold dinner. “I think that is finally settled,” said Michael Willingham, a professor of psychology, as he drank his soup course. “This question of what makes us human has preoccupied thinkers for millennia. Think of all the brain power poured into this issue over time. Think of how much raw intellectual power can now be set upon other, more utilitarian issues. I don’t want to sound grandiose, but someday people will look back and see this discussion as a turning point. Our few hours of hunger back there, and it was quite bad toward the end, was a small sacrifice.”
The lone dissenter, philosopher Manuela Palma, commented, “They haven’t even defined the term acronym properly. Can you tell me definitively that bird songs aren’t sonic acronyms for terms we don’t comprehend? No. Where’s the rigor? This whole colloquium is a joke.”
The symposium was sponsored by the Ontological Mastery Guild (OMG).
