They're Made Out of Meat

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Terry Bisson
1990
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“They’re made out of meat.”

“Meat?”

“Meat. They’re made out of meat.”

“Meat?”

“There’s no doubt about it. We picked up several from different parts of the planet, took them aboard our recon vessels, and probed them all the way through. They’re completely meat.”

“That’s impossible. What about the radio signals? The messages to the stars?”

“They use the radio waves to talk, but the signals don’t come from them. The signals come from machines.”

“So who made the machines? That’s who we want to contact.”

“They made the machines. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. Meat made the machines.”

“That’s ridiculous. How can meat make a machine? You’re asking me to believe in sentient meat.”

“I’m not asking you, I’m telling you. These creatures are the only sentient race in that sector and they’re made out of meat.”

“Maybe they’re like the orfolei. You know, a carbon-based intelligence that goes through a meat stage.”

“Nope. They’re born meat and they die meat. We studied them for several of their life spans, which didn’t take long. Do you have any idea what’s the lifespan of meat?”

“Spare me. Okay, maybe they’re only part meat. You know, like the weddilei. A meat head with an electron plasma brain inside.”

“Nope. We thought of that, since they do have meat heads, like the weddilei. But I told you, we probed them. They’re meat all the way through.”

“No brain?”

“Oh, there’s a brain all right. It’s just that the brain is made out of meat! That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”

“So... what does the thinking?”

“You’re not understanding, are you? You’re refusing to deal with what I’m telling you. The brain does the thinking. The meat.”

“Thinking meat! You’re asking me to believe in thinking meat!”

“Yes, thinking meat! Conscious meat! Loving meat. Dreaming meat. The meat is the whole deal! Are you beginning to get the picture or do I have to start all over?”

“Omigod. You’re serious then. They’re made out of meat.”

“Thank you. Finally. Yes. They are indeed made out of meat. And they’ve been trying to get in touch with us for almost a hundred of their years.”

“Omigod. So what does this meat have in mind?”

“First it wants to talk to us. Then I imagine it wants to explore the Universe, contact other sentiences, swap ideas and information. The usual.”

“We’re supposed to talk to meat.”

“That’s the idea. That’s the message they’re sending out by radio. ‘Hello. Anyone out there. Anybody home.’ That sort of thing.”

“They actually do talk, then. They use words, ideas, concepts?”

“Oh, yes. Except they do it with meat.”

“I thought you just told me they used radio.”

“They do, but what do you think is on the radio? Meat sounds. You know how when you slap or flap meat, it makes a noise? They talk by flapping their meat at each other. They can even sing by squirting air through their meat.”

“Omigod. Singing meat. This is altogether too much. So what do you advise?”

“Officially or unofficially?”

“Both.”

“Officially, we are required to contact, welcome and log in any and all sentient races or multibeings in this quadrant of the Universe, without prejudice, fear or favor. Unofficially, I advise that we erase the records and forget the whole thing.”

“I was hoping you would say that.”

“It seems harsh, but there is a limit. Do we really want to make contact with meat?”

“I agree 100 percent. What’s there to say? ‘Hello, meat. How’s it going?’ But will this work? How many planets are we dealing with here?”

“Just one. They can travel to other planets in special meat containers, but they can’t live on them. And being meat, they can only travel through C space. Which limits them to the speed of light and makes the possibility of their ever making contact pretty slim. Infinitesimal, in fact.”

“So we just pretend there’s no one home in the Universe.”

“That’s it.”

“Cruel. But you said it yourself, who wants to meet meat? And the ones who have been aboard our vessels, the ones you probed? You’re sure they won’t remember?”

“They’ll be considered crackpots if they do. We went into their heads and smoothed out their meat so that we’re just a dream to them.”

“A dream to meat! How strangely appropriate, that we should be meat’s dream.”

“And we marked the entire sector unoccupied.”

“Good. Agreed, officially and unofficially. Case closed. Any others? Anyone interesting on that side of the galaxy?”

“Yes, a rather shy but sweet hydrogen core cluster intelligence in a class nine star in G445 zone. Was in contact two galactic rotations ago, wants to be friendly again.”

“They always come around.”

“And why not? Imagine how unbearably, how unutterably cold the Universe would be if one were all alone...”

"They're Made out of Meat" from OMNI by Terry Bisson. Copyright © 1990. Used with permission. All rights reserved.

Notes
AllDefinitionsFootnotes
Recon is an abbreviation for reconnaissance, which is a military term for inspecting or exploring an area.
Sentient (adjective) : conscious
Infinitesimal (adjective) : extremely small

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Assessment: What is the "meat" in this story, and how do you know? Use evidence from the text to support your answer.

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Answer 1

In Terry Bisson's short story "They're Made Out of Meat," the term "meat" is a metaphor for humanity and, more broadly, all biological life forms composed of organic matter. The dialogue between the two extraterrestrial beings reveals a profound irony: the notion that sentience can emerge from something as simple and corporeal as meat. Through the lens of the non-meat beings, the idea that intelligence and consciousness could arise from organic, fleshy material challenges their preconceived notions of what constitutes a sentient being.

Evidence that supports this interpretation includes the conversation about the nature of the "meat" beings. For instance, one character insists, "The brain does the thinking. The meat," indicating that the biological components of the beings are fully integrated with their cognitive functions. This line implies that their consciousness is fundamentally tied to their physical form, reinforcing the idea that intelligence can reside in what is often perceived as mundane organic matter.

Further evidence is found in the description of their communication methods. The meat beings "talk by flapping their meat at each other" and "can even sing by squirting air through their meat." This anthropomorphizes the "meat," showcasing its capacity for expression and social interaction, much like human beings do through speech and music. The humor in this depiction invites readers to reflect on the nature of intelligence and the attributes that define sentient beings.

Finally, the concluding remarks about the decision to erase the records and not make contact with these meat beings highlights a disconnect. The extraterrestrials deem the concept of "contacting meat" as absurd, ultimately illustrating a bias against biological life in favor of more complex forms of intelligence. The phrase, "who wants to meet meat?" underscores their reluctance to engage with beings that seem so fundamentally different from themselves, even though they share consciousness.

In conclusion, "meat" in this story serves as a metaphor for biological life and challenges readers to reconsider their own definitions and biases regarding sentience and intelligence. Through the humorous yet thought-provoking dialogue, Bisson critiques the limitations of perception when it comes to understanding consciousness in forms that differ from our own.