Why My Cat is Smarter Than My Smartphone: A Compelling Argument

Why My Cat Is Smarter Than My Smartphone
A Compelling Argument

The cat out‑of‑the‑bottle‑was‑in‑fact‑a‑technology‑savvy‑fur‑ball, and—since it unplugs the Wi‑Fi cord for a quick stretch while I endeavour to code—a few facts speak louder than any app‑based pitch

1. Intelligence is not measured by the number of “likes”

My smartphone, with its 100‑plus apps, can almost read my mind if my thumbs are any of a kind. Yet every time I try to post on social media, the glassy device refuses to recognise the difference between a cat‑mit and an ordinary cat‑meow—although it does recognise the meme (“I can’t get that litter box to work”).

Its “AI” (Artificial Ignorance) quietly flicks through algorithms that predict my top‑five interest lists: travel, cooking, conspiracy theories. My cat, on the other hand, has uploaded a single YouTube video—a tutorial titled "How to Fly".

So, cue the applause: one pause export, zero data usage.

2. A real-time conversation: my smartphone vs. my cat

The cat’s answers consistently beat the predictive text of the phone—particularly because the cat knows how to end a sentence with a definitive hiss for maximum impact.

3. Your smartphone can’t help you when you need a partner

When I’m in the kitchen, I call my phone and say: “Find me a recipe for something quick.” Within seconds, a voice‑assistant scrolls a whirlwind of options.
All the while, my cat is perched on the windowsill, watching a documentary about polar bears, because he’s made the point: only the real partner will apologise when the blender explodes (while the phone will just say, “Apology” and direct me to a link).

4. Time‑travel expertise: the cat has seen my boyish youth—again

Stars are how we track time. The phone does so with a calendar that respects daylight saving but forgets to give me an explicit “Time‑to‑sleep” reminder. The cat, who has lived on a clock that runs on snoozes, knows when to pat my feet at 6 pm, 6:30 pm, 7 pm—no alarm function required.

Moreover, the cat understands that repetitive “battery alert” noises degrade to the point where one learns to kill the noise by tapping, whereas my phone will simply flash a red dot to remind you that you’re losing percentage.

5. The over‑analysis paradox

Smartphones are fitted with apps that track your every step, your breathing frequency and, if you’re lucky, your mood. When you open a “mental‑well‑being” app, it then tells you the correct way to be a cat.
However, a cat will simply mock you on a sunny‑spot couch and eventually decide it is, indeed, happier with a ‘cat‑napping’ routine rather than some app that ‘optimises’ your existence.

6. The final verdict: it isn’t a question of who is smarter, but who does the job better

The smartphone is undeniably a useful thing—a computer in your pocket, a navigation tool, a translator of between life’s endless bullshit.
The cat is the eternal companion who uses the same device not to control itself but to orchestrate a solo symphony of hisses, fur, and discipline that, needless to say, beats even the most polished AI assistant by a whisker.

In a world that’s over‑connected, over‑complicated, and over‑anxious, the humble cat, armed with the freedom to reset the Wi‑Fi in a single swipe of paws, precisely delivers the essence of wisdom: “Stop trying to decide – simply nuzzle arbitrarily around you until you notice, gradually, that I know exactly what you need.”

Bottom line
People often say: “Your smartphone is an intelligent agent.”
But unhelpful for an existential crisis?
The cat equals “I know you’re napping with the phone and that your analysing of the bow, of the fish, of the next butt‑so‑soft‑who‑makes‑you‑toss.”

And that, dear reader, is where the true intelligence shines – no matter the size of the charging port.