You've probably seen the grainy footage or the captioned stills. A chimpanzee, looking remarkably intent, signs a string of words that sounds like a demanding toddler. Give me orange me eat orange. It’s a phrase that has lived a double life. On one hand, it’s a hilarious, relatable internet meme used by anyone who is slightly hungry or feeling impatient. On the other, it represents one of the most controversial and heated debates in the history of cognitive science and linguistics.
Most people think it’s just a funny animal clip. It isn't.
The phrase comes from a chimpanzee named Nim Chimpsky. Yes, the name was a direct jab at Noam Chomsky, the legendary linguist who famously argued that language is a uniquely human trait. In the 1970s, a group of researchers at Columbia University set out to prove Chomsky wrong. They wanted to see if a chimp, raised like a human child, could master the complexities of grammar and syntax. What they got instead was a series of repetitive requests for citrus fruit that eventually blew the whole field of animal language research wide open.
The Chaos of Project Nim
Imagine raising a chimpanzee in a Manhattan brownstone. That was the reality for Nim. It was the 70s, and the ethical guidelines we have now basically didn't exist in the same way. Nim was moved from home to home, handled by dozens of different teachers, and immersed in American Sign Language (ASL).
Herbert Terrace, the psychologist leading the study, initially thought they were winning. Nim was learning signs. He was communicating! But when you actually look at the data—the raw transcripts of what Nim was signing—the "language" starts to look more like sophisticated begging.
The famous sequence give me orange me eat orange wasn't a poetic expression of desire. It was a redundant loop. Nim would often sign "Give me orange me eat orange give me eat orange give me eat orange." He was throwing every sign he knew at the wall to see what would stick. He wanted the reward. He didn't care about the grammar. This realization was a gut punch to the researchers who wanted to believe they were talking to another species.
Why the repetitions matter
When a human child learns to speak, their sentences get longer and more complex over time. They start with "Milk." Then "Want milk." Then "I want the blue cup of milk."
Nim went backwards.
As his "sentences" got longer, they actually became more repetitive. He wasn't adding new information; he was just padding the request. Linguists call this a lack of "displacement" and "productivity." If I say, "Give me the orange," I've established a subject, a verb, and an object. If Nim signs give me orange me eat orange, he’s just repeating the concepts of "give," "me," and "orange" in a chaotic circle.
✨ Don't miss: The Long Haired Russian Cat Explained: Why the Siberian is Basically a Living Legend
The Great Divide in Animal Research
This wasn't just about one chimp. It sparked a war. On one side, you had the "Ape Language" enthusiasts like those working with Koko the Gorilla or Kanzi the Bonobo. They argued that these animals possess a deep, inner symbolic life. They pointed to Koko's famous grief over her kitten as proof of emotional and linguistic depth.
Then you had the skeptics, led by Terrace after he turned on his own project.
Terrace eventually concluded that Nim wasn't using language at all. He argued that Nim was simply mimicking his teachers to get treats. It was a "Clever Hans" effect—the phenomenon where animals respond to subtle, unintentional cues from their handlers. When the teacher signed "What is this?" while holding an orange, their hand movements or facial expressions often gave away the sign for orange. Nim was just reflecting the environment.
Honestly, it's a bit heartbreaking. Nim was caught between being an animal and being a failed experiment. He wasn't a human, but he was no longer a "wild" chimp.
The Meme Culture Resurrection
So, how did a failed 1970s experiment become a staple of 2020s internet culture?
The internet loves "low-fidelity" communication. There is something inherently funny about the bluntness of give me orange me eat orange. It strips away the social niceties of modern life. When you’re at work and you just want your lunch break, you don't want to "utilize your mid-day interval for nutritional intake." You just want to eat.
The phrase captures a primal mood.
- It’s used in gaming when players want loot.
- It’s used in relationships when one person is hangry.
- It’s used ironically to mock "influencer speak."
But the humor is tinged with a bit of irony once you know Nim’s story. Nim’s life ended in a way that wasn't very funny at all. After the project lost funding, he was sent back to a research facility, then a lab, and eventually a sanctuary. He struggled to relate to other chimps because he thought he was a human. He would sign to the other chimps, but they wouldn't sign back. They just bit him.
🔗 Read more: Why Every Mom and Daughter Photo You Take Actually Matters
What Science Says Now
We’ve moved past the idea of teaching chimps ASL. Most researchers now realize that chimp vocal tracts and hand structures aren't built for human language systems. Instead, the focus has shifted to how they communicate in the wild.
Wild chimps have a complex system of gestures and vocalizations that are perfectly suited for chimp life. They don't need to sign give me orange me eat orange because they have their own ways of negotiating food sharing and social hierarchy.
We tried to force them into our box.
Dr. Jane Goodall’s work showed us that chimps are incredibly intelligent, but their intelligence is ecological. They are geniuses at being chimpanzees. When we judge them by their ability to use human grammar, we're basically asking a fish to climb a tree and then calling it stupid when it fails.
The Kanzi Exception
It’s worth noting that not everyone agrees with the "Nim was just mimicking" take. Sue Savage-Rumbaugh’s work with Kanzi the bonobo used lexigrams (symbols on a keyboard) instead of hand signs. Kanzi seemed to pick up language more naturally by observing his mother, rather than through rigorous "drill and kill" training.
Kanzi could follow complex, novel instructions like "Put the soap in the water" even if he’d never heard that specific sentence before. This suggests that while Nim might have been a "mimic," some great apes might actually have the cognitive hardware for basic symbolic understanding.
The debate is still alive. It's just quieter now.
Why We Can't Let It Go
We are obsessed with talking to animals. We want to know what they think of us. We want to know if they feel love, or if they have names for the stars. Give me orange me eat orange is a reminder of that desire—and the messy, sometimes unethical ways we've tried to fulfill it.
💡 You might also like: Sport watch water resist explained: why 50 meters doesn't mean you can dive
When you use the meme, you’re participating in a 50-year-old conversation about what it means to be human. Are we defined by our ability to use syntax? Or are we just sophisticated animals who have learned to ask for oranges in more complicated ways?
Moving forward with the knowledge
If you’re interested in the intersection of animal intelligence and human culture, don't just stop at the meme.
First, watch the documentary Project Nim. It’s a raw, uncomfortable look at the actual experiment. It’s not a feel-good animal movie. It shows the flaws of the researchers and the tragic trajectory of Nim’s life. It’ll change how you see the "funny" captions.
Second, look into modern animal cognition studies that don't involve "humanizing" the subjects. Research into crow intelligence, dolphin communication, and elephant empathy is providing much more reliable data than the 1970s ape language projects ever did. These animals are smart in ways we are only just beginning to map out.
Finally, appreciate the simplicity. Sometimes, life really is just about the orange. We spend so much time overcomplicating our needs with professional jargon and social etiquette. Maybe the reason the phrase resonates so deeply is that, at our core, we’re all just looking for someone to give us the metaphorical orange.
Next Steps for the Curious:
- Research the "Clever Hans Effect" to understand how humans accidentally influence animal behavior during testing.
- Read "The Language Instinct" by Steven Pinker for a deep dive into why he believes Nim Chimpsky proved that chimps cannot learn language.
- Support sanctuaries like "Save the Chimps" that provide homes for former research animals who can no longer survive in the wild.
Understanding the history makes the meme better. It adds a layer of "knowing" to the joke. It turns a simple caption into a commentary on the limits of science and the persistence of animal desire. Reach for the orange, but remember the chimp who signed it first.