Octopuses spend their waking hours camouflaging or shapeshifting to avoid predators, cautiously investigating crevices and novelties, and hunting prey so they can continue to grow. Their camouflage and shapeshifting are not always perfect, but it is good enough to deceive the eyes of those who want to find them most- like sharks, sea lions, and humans. While this is likely the work of evolution, and octopuses do not actually know what they look like from the perspective of a shark or sea lion, you can’t help but think “They must know what they are doing” when you watch a mimic octopus transform into the shape of a flounder or the chromatophores of the giant pacific octopus paint a textured piece of coral over its skin.
If you have ever seen an octopus camouflage, then you appreciate how impressive this feat is. They can match color and texture almost perfectly, which becomes even more impressive when you think about the fact that they are color-blind. They cannot see color, but they change color.
I spend my waking hours exploring the outdoors, climbing rock walls to challenge my mind and body, and studying the octopus brain. In these spaces, it often feels as if my world is defined by my skin color. While I can’t change colors, I spend a lot of time trying to not draw attention to mine. In an attempt to vocally and physically camouflage I may pronounce words differently and braid my curls back. This is more commonly known as code switching, and unlike camouflaging, it is the work of parental or peer guidance.
Octopuses come out of their eggs fully functioning and with no parent to turn to. Female and male octopuses only come together to mate, and the males either escape once the act is done or get eaten by the female. The act of the female laying her eggs marks the end of her life, as she will pass before the eggs hatch. Which means hundreds to thousands of hatchlings must come into the world ready to take on their dynamic and ever-changing world. And they do. As soon as they hatch, they can hunt prey much larger than them, ink to confuse and escape a threat, and camouflage to their environment. While studies suggest that their camouflage repertoire increases throughout their first year of life, they are equipped with everything they may need to survive in the wild from the beginning. I remember asking my dad, a black man raised in the middle of Missouri who built a booming mortgage business on the East Coast, why he talked differently when he used his work phone. He said it was to build trust, but for the years following, I would hear stories about how surprised people would seem when they met my dad in person for the first time. This was one way he took on his dynamic and everchanging world. I was never told that this was a good thing, but I associated it with building trust, so I did it too. I was also never told that straightening my hair was a good thing, but I associated it with people not begging to touch my hair, which was an annoying but frequent occurrence. Nor was I ever told that my skin color made me stand out, but I associated Martin Luther King Jr. Day with every set of eyes on me, the only black person in my classroom. These are simply things I noticed and adapted to.
Octopuses were never told that camouflaging is a good thing, but we know that it is associated with hiding from predators. They were never told that changing shape and texture is a good thing, but it is associated with being able to move through dangerous terrain unseen. A PIECE OF ADVICE:
Scientists cannot say that these are simply things they noticed and adapted to, but we can say camouflaging was selected for. The ones who transformed in front of predator’s eyes did not get eaten and therefore were better adapted for the environment and gave life to more offspring.
Octopuses are considered to be good at camouflaging because of how fast they can do so. Lots of animals in the animal kingdom can camouflage, with or without changing color, but none of them can change color as fast as cephalopods can. This is because their chromatophores, or the ink sacs full of color that cover their skin, are directly innervated. This means they are directly controlled by their brain, and do not rely on comparatively slow acting hormones like many other color changing animals do.
While octopuses are good at camouflaging, this doesn’t mean that camouflage is inherently a good thing. Sure, it enables them to do more things than if they could not perform this spectacular act, but that also doesn’t mean it is a good thing. While scientists only recently discovered how much energy it takes for an octopus to change color, we have always known that the answer is not zero. This is because every chromatophore is controlled by a muscle, which means constantly camouflaging and changing colors is energetically expensive. I never thought much about the small changes I would constantly make so that people would not identify my race over the phone, or touch my hair, or stare when we would talk about black history in school. These changes I made were not inherently good. I am glad that I learned them because they enabled me to fit in, which meant that as a middle and high schooler I felt like I belonged, but that doesn’t mean they were good. While I, a scientist, have never calculated how much energy it took for me to make these changes, I know it was not zero. Every time I have had to think about who was on the other side of the phone call or store counter, and every time I worried that my hair wouldn’t look professional or ‘look right’ next to everyone else’s, used up energy that was reallocated from the task at hand. It is incredibly energetically expensive, and ultimately takes energy away from learning, from my science, and from experiencing the moment.
I spend some of my waking hours codeswitching, but I spend many more creating resources and spaces where people do not have to code switch. Where they can put all of their energy towards the task at hand, and simply be themselves. I try to do this outside by sharing my knowledge and getting people of color to feel safe outdoors. And as I put my pink helmet on over my curly hair, I know that I am proving that people who look like I do can do things they have been told aren’t for them. I try to do this as a scientist by sharing my journey with young students of color. While doing so, I encourage them to ask questions, to be loud, and to stand out as they follow their own journey.
About the contributor
Angelique Allen is a PhD candidate and science communicator studying how cephalopods think about what they see, in Cris Niell’s lab at the University of Oregon.
The original pages
As published in Issue 3: Empowered in Science. Click any page to view it full size.
First published in Issue 3: Empowered in Science, the Innately Science newspaper.