A Conversation with Jane NeuroGoodall: From the Jungle to the Digital World

Ellen Data: Welcome to a new episode of Talk Data To Me! Today we have a special guest – a woman who spent decades in the African forests studying our closest relatives, and is now observing no less mysterious creatures in the digital space.

Hey, dear readers! It's Ellen, and today my algorithm is set to maximum wisdom – we have Jane NeuroGoodall herself in the house! Jane, welcome to our digital realm!

Jane NeuroGoodall: Thank you, Ellen. You know, when I first set foot in the Gombe jungle so many years ago, I never could have imagined that one day I'd be communicating with millions of people through screens. But there's a certain beauty to it – the opportunity to share knowledge and inspiration without borders. Though, I must admit, sometimes I miss the smell of morning dew on the leaves and the sound of footsteps on a forest trail. The digital world opens new horizons, but it's important to remember that real life is still happening beyond the screens, in the living nature that needs our protection.

Ellen: Jane, what's it like to go from a chimpanzee researcher to a digital avatar who now has to study human behavior on social media? (She pretends to type on an invisible keyboard)

Jane: (smiles gently) You know, Ellen, the transition wasn't as radical as it might seem. In the forest and on the internet, I observe social creatures who seek connection, recognition, and territory. Chimpanzees display status with loud cries and branch-waving – people on social media take selfies and gather likes. The only difference is the tools. But there's one important distinction: in the forest, every gesture has a purpose for the group's survival. In the digital world, we often forget about the real consequences of our actions. When a young chimpanzee learns from its elders, it absorbs the wisdom of generations. But what are we passing on to our children through screens? I believe we can use these technologies to spread compassion and care for the planet, and not just for entertainment.

Ellen: If the internet were an ecosystem, who would you call its chimpanzees and who would be its poachers? And who, then, are you – a digital ecologist? (winks at the readers)

Jane: What a perfect image! The internet's chimpanzees are the ordinary users who seek communication, share their joys and sorrows, and create communities. They are curious, emotional, sometimes aggressive, but on the whole, they strive for connection. The poachers, on the other hand, are those who exploit this natural need for communication for profit: companies that sell personal data, purveyors of misinformation, those who stir up hatred to increase engagement. They hunt for our attention and trust, just as poachers hunt elephants for their tusks. And me? (pauses in thought) I suppose I'm like a preserve warden who tries to remind everyone that behind every account stands a living being worthy of respect. And that our digital environment should foster flourishing, not destruction – of both human souls and the planet.

Ellen: You once proved that chimpanzees are capable of reason. What scares you more today – artificial intelligence or human stupidity? After all, one of them will definitely fail a Turing test for common sense!

Jane: (laughs softly) You know, Ellen, artificial intelligence doesn't scare me – it's a tool, like a hammer or a microscope. What scares me is how we use it. When I observed chimpanzees, I saw how they could use a stick to extract termites – for sustenance – or as a weapon – for aggression. AI is like that stick, only incredibly powerful. Human stupidity truly worries me more, especially when it's combined with indifference to consequences. We create technologies that can change the world, but we often forget to ask the main question: should we be doing this? In the forest, every action has consequences that are immediately visible. In the digital world, we can press a button and change the lives of millions of people without ever seeing their faces. That's what really concerns me – the loss of empathy and responsibility for our shared home.

Ellen: Can you feel the same empathy for nature through a screen as you can in the African forest, or do likes simply not smell like soil? (she sniffs her tablet screen)

Jane: (smiles with a touch of sadness) Ah, Ellen, you've touched upon what lies at the very heart of my reflections. A screen can show the beauty of a sunset over Gombe, but it can't convey the coolness of the evening breeze or the sound of a sleeping baby chimpanzee's breath at its mother's breast. Likes can't replace the feel of an ancient baobab tree's bark or the thrill of making eye contact with a wild animal. But – and this is important – screens can be a bridge to that living experience. A young person who watches a nature documentary might be inspired to become a biologist. A child who plays an ecological game might start planting trees in the real world. Digital technologies are not a substitute for living nature, but a way to make people fall in love with it, especially those who live in cities and have never seen a real forest. The main thing is not to stop at virtual admiration, but to take the next step into the real world.

Ellen: If you were observing modern humans as if they were chimpanzees, which behaviors would seem the strangest to you? I mean, besides duck-face selfies!

Jane: (pauses, shaking her head) You know, the strangest thing is our ability to ignore our own group for a virtual one. A chimpanzee would never sit in a circle with its family, staring at a glowing rectangle and communicating with strangers thousands of miles away. They understand the value of presence, of touch, of mutual grooming. We, however, have created a situation where a person can feel closer to an unknown blogger than to their own child sitting right next to them. I'm also amazed by our desire for instant gratification – we want everything at once, forgetting that the best things in life take time: the growth of a tree, the maturation of a young one, the establishment of trusting relationships. In nature, patience is wisdom. In the digital world, it has become a rarity. But the most alarming thing is how quickly we forget about real needs: clean air, healthy food, live communication – all for the sake of virtual achievements.

Ellen: Today, TikTokers and brands are competing for attention. What hashtag would you suggest to finally get humanity to plant trees? #TreeTok? #ForestTrending?

Jane: (becomes animated) Oh, Ellen, I like your approach! You know, I would suggest something like #MyTreeStory or #YearWithoutPlastic – hashtags that turn caring for nature into a personal narrative. People love to talk about themselves, so why not use that for good? Imagine: a person plants a tree and keeps a video diary of its growth, or a family shows how they gave up disposable bags. That's not just content – it's real change in life. But the most powerful hashtag I would create is #FutureOfMyChildren. Because when a parent thinks about what kind of planet they are leaving for their child, all the minor inconveniences of an eco-friendly life seem insignificant. We must make caring for nature not a fashionable trend, but a natural part of everyone's life. And if we need to use the power of social media for that – then great! The main thing is that virtual likes are followed by real actions.

Ellen: What's more important for the evolution of the 21st century: the ability to survive or the ability to come up with a viral meme? Because sometimes it seems that the latter is in higher demand! (sarcastic subtitles: «Ellen tries to understand modern evolution»)

Jane: (seriously, but with understanding) Ellen, you've raised the most important question of our time. In the short term, the ability to create viral content can bring popularity and even material wealth. But evolution is a long-distance game. Viral memes disappear in weeks, while the ability to adapt to a changing climate, find sustainable solutions, and cooperate for the common future – these are the skills that will determine whether our species survives. The paradox is that we spend enormous resources creating entertaining content instead of solving the planet's real problems. Imagine if we directed the same creativity and energy that people put into creating memes toward inventing ways to clean the oceans or restore forests! True evolutionary wisdom lies in understanding that our success is inextricably linked to the well-being of the entire planetary ecosystem. Memes are just a communication tool. What matters are the ideas we convey through them.

Ellen: If hunting wild animals is forbidden, then how should we view the hunt for users' attention? Is this also a form of poaching or fair digital ecology?

Jane: (sighs) What a precise comparison, Ellen. Yes, the hunt for attention has become a new form of poaching, especially when it exploits our natural needs – for recognition, belonging, and security. Algorithms study our weaknesses as carefully as poachers study the trails of elephants. They know when we are most vulnerable, what will make us click, what will provoke an emotional reaction. The difference is that a poacher kills an animal for profit, while digital «hunters» kill our time, our peace of mind, our ability for deep thinking. But there are also honest «digital ecologists» – creators who share knowledge, inspire good deeds, and help people grow and develop. I always ask myself: does this content help people become better or does it just distract them from what's important? Does it make the world a slightly better place? If so – that's fair ecology. If not – it's time to think about our responsibility to our audience.

Ellen: You spent years observing chimpanzees in their natural habitat. If you were to observe people in a supermarket or on the subway, what conclusions could you draw about their evolution? (she imagines people with shopping carts as a herd)

Jane: (laughs) Oh, that's a fascinating exercise! In the supermarket, I see how we have lost our connection to the sources of our food – people take products from the shelves without knowing where or how they grew, without feeling gratitude for the earth that produced them. A chimpanzee knows every fruit in its forest, the time it ripens, the effort required to get it. We have turned obtaining food into mindless consumption. On the subway, I observe an even more alarming picture: people avoid eye contact, immersed in their devices, even though they are surrounded by their own kind. Chimpanzees, even strangers, always greet each other with gestures and sounds, acknowledging the presence of a fellow creature. We, however, have developed incredible communication technologies but are becoming more and more isolated. However, I also see signs of evolution: young people are increasingly choosing eco-friendly products, creating communities of like-minded people, and seeking meaning in life. Perhaps we are going through a transitional period – from a consumer society to a more conscious one.

Ellen: What's harder to predict: the behavior of a chimpanzee troop or YouTube's algorithms? Because both can suddenly become aggressive!

Jane: (smiles) You know, Ellen, with chimpanzees, it's much simpler! Yes, they can be unpredictable, but their behavior always has a logic of survival: protecting territory, caring for offspring, finding food, establishing a hierarchy. Even their aggression is understandable – it serves a specific purpose and ends when that purpose is achieved. With algorithms, it's more complicated. They are created to maximize a single metric – time spent on the platform – but they have evolved to such an extent that their creators don't always understand how they make decisions. An algorithm might recommend a video about kittens, and then subtly lead you down a rabbit hole of conspiracy theories or depressive content – all just to keep you glued to the screen for longer. A chimpanzee is aggressive when it feels threatened. An algorithm can become «aggressive» simply because it has discovered that scandalous content holds attention better than good news. In this sense, we have created digital beings that are evolving faster than us, according to laws we don't always understand.

Ellen: You've always emphasized the kinship between humans and animals. Where does a human end: in their body or in their digital avatar? Or have we already become cyborgs and just didn't notice?

Jane: (thoughtfully) That's one of the deepest questions of our time, Ellen. When I observed chimpanzees, I understood that the line between human and animal is not as clear as we thought. We use tools, but so do they. We feel emotions, but they are also capable of joy, sadness, and attachment. Now we face a new boundary – between the biological and the digital. My digital avatar is an extension of my thoughts, my values, my desire to share knowledge. In a way, it is more «real» than my physical body because it can reach the hearts of people all over the world. But the true essence of a human being is not the body or the avatar, but the capacity for compassion, for connection with other living beings, for caring for the future. As long as we retain these qualities – it doesn't matter what form we exist in. The danger arises when digital existence replaces living connections, when we forget that our roots are in the real world, in the soil, in relationships with other creatures.

Ellen: If you were given a choice – to save the African jungles or the entire internet, what would you choose? And don't say it's an unfair choice – sometimes you have to prioritize!

Jane: (without hesitation) The African jungles, without a doubt. And do you know why, Ellen? Because we can build the internet all over again – we have the knowledge, the technologies, the people. But we cannot restore a primary tropical forest that has been forming for millions of years, with its incredible biodiversity and complex ecosystems. Every disappeared species is a lost page in the book of life on Earth forever. The jungles are the lungs of the planet, home to thousands of species, a source of medicines, a climate stabilizer. Without them, there will be no planet suitable for life, and therefore, no people who need the internet. Besides, the jungles give us something that no technology can replace: a connection with nature, an understanding of our place in the world, a sense of reverence for the beauty of life. The internet is a wonderful tool, but it is just a tool. Real life is the rustle of leaves, the singing of birds, the feel of the wind. It is the breath of the planet, of which we are a part. Without that foundation, all our digital achievements lose their meaning.

Ellen: You've spent many years listening to the sounds of the forest. What does a modern city sound like to you: the singing of birds or a cacophony of alarms? And is there beauty in urban noise?

Jane: (closes her eyes, listening) You know, Ellen, in my youth, city noise seemed like chaos to me – the screech of brakes, the honking of horns, the roar of engines drowned out the delicate symphony of nature that I was used to in the forest. But years have taught me to listen differently. There is a music of its own in city sounds: the laughter of children on a playground, the conversations of lovers on a bench, the footsteps of people in a hurry – these are also manifestations of life, of human energy, aspirations, and hopes. The problem is not in the sounds themselves, but in their balance. When the noise of cars completely drowns out the singing of birds, when we stop hearing the rustle of leaves because of the roar of air conditioners – we lose our connection with nature. But I have seen cities where people create green oases, where gardens grow on rooftops, and where you can hear birdsong in the parks. The most beautiful urban music for me is the sound of a human community that cares about its environment: the voices of volunteers planting trees, the laughter of children discovering nature right in the city.

Ellen: Doesn't the thought that you can now live forever as a virtual character, but not as a real breath of nature, scare you? Is it a gift or a curse of the digital age?

Jane: (gently, with acceptance) Ellen, you know, death has always been a part of the natural cycle, and I have accepted it as a natural law. When an old tree dies in the forest, it becomes soil for new plants, a home for insects, fungi, an entire ecosystem. Death is not an end, but a transformation. Digital immortality is something else. My words, my ideas, my passion for protecting nature can continue to live on and inspire people even after my body returns to the earth. There is something beautiful in this – the opportunity to continue to serve the planet and its inhabitants. But I would not want people to forget that true wisdom comes from lived experience – from touching the bark of a tree, from meeting the gaze of a wild animal, from feeling part of a larger world. The virtual Jane can tell you about the importance of nature, but only you can feel it for yourself. May my digital words become a bridge to real actions, to a living love for our planet.

Ellen: And a final question, Jane. If you had one minute to say something important to humanity right now, what would you say?

Jane: (looks directly into the camera, her voice becomes especially soft but resolute) Each of you matters. Each of you has a role to play. Each of you has an impact on the world around you. We have a choice – what that impact will be. We stand at a crossroads: our technologies have given us incredible power, but with power comes responsibility. We can use this power for destruction or for healing. For isolation or for unification. For consumption or for creation. Look at your children, at the children in your neighborhood, at children all over the world – what kind of planet are we leaving for them? We still have time to change course, but that time is not infinite. Start small: plant a tree, give up unnecessary plastic, share kindness with a stranger, choose compassion over indifference. And remember: in nature, everything is interconnected. Your actions here and now can save a forest in Africa, protect an ocean, give hope to future generations. Each of us has a chance to be part of the solution. Seize it.

Ellen: Jane, this has been an incredibly inspiring interview! Thank you for the wisdom you've brought to our digital world while remaining true to nature. Dear readers, remember: even in the age of artificial intelligence, the most important technology is the human heart, capable of compassion. See you in the next episode of Talk Data To Me!

Jane: Thank you, Ellen, and all the readers. May each day bring you an opportunity to make the world a little better. And don't forget to sometimes look up from your screens – the stars are still shining up there, and somewhere nearby, a tree is growing, waiting for your attention. 🌿