Let’s introduce Dr. Michel André to our audience! Who are you? If you had to describe yourself in 1 sentence, what would you say?

As a bioacoustician, I have dedicated my work to exploring how sounds from Nature can help us better understand and protect wildlife and restore biodiversity.

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What are the most

A- Fascinating research

B- Impactful research

C- Fun and whimsical research

You are leading these days?

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Fascinating research: What I find most fascinating is to realise that, amongst all sensing systems, the perception of  sound may be the only universal support shared across all forms of life—animal and plant, terrestrial and aquatic. Every organism, in some way, produces or responds to vibrations or acoustic pressure in its environment. Bioacoustics, as a science, allows us to take the pulse of nature through the sounds it emits. Among the most striking moments in my research have been when decoding the biosonar systems of sperm whales, whose acoustic perception is far more sophisticated than anything we have built. This offers an important glimpse into a non-human way of sensing the world—one that is beautifully complex and deeply humbling.

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Impactful research: The development of real-time acoustic observatories through the LIDO (Listen to the Deep-Ocean) programme has had a significant scientific and societal impact. By making it possible to monitor and respond with applied solutions to underwater noise pollution as it happens, we have been able to influence policy, shipping practices, and conservation efforts on an international scale. This technology was further developed and adapted to monitor biodiversity in rainforests, becoming the first long-term automated approach to provide real-time access to the health status of the Amazon.

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Fun and whimsical research: When we started to experiment using passive acoustic sensors in remote parts of the Amazon to record insect, bird, bat and mammal choruses, the result was a jungle symphony—rich, rhythmic, and completely unexpected. That research eventually helped shape our biodiversity monitoring approach at large temporal and spatial scales, but it began with a simple curiosity: What does the forest sound like when no one is listening? And an important question: Can we use this symphony to understand the forest needs?

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Bioacoustics…what a way to listen to life! But HOW does sound reveal what we can’t see in living ecosystems?

Sound travels where light cannot—through murky waters, dense forests, or the stillness of night. Many organisms are elusive, invisible to our eyes, but they leave acoustic traces: calls, pulses, rhythms, even silences. By listening, bioacoustics allows us to detect presence, behaviour, migrations, and interactions without intrusion. It gives us insights into entire ecosystems by capturing their acoustic fingerprints. For example, a healthy rainforest or coral reef sounds radically different from a degraded one. Through these soundscapes, we can sense not only who is there, but how they live—and how their world is changing.

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Is it true that you’re building tech that listens to the ocean? Can sound actually help protect marine life…from whales to plankton?

Yes, we are building technologies that listen to the ocean in real time. The idea is simple but transformative: by passively capturing and analyzing the sounds of marine environments, we can monitor biodiversity and detect changes as they happen. From the low-frequency rumbles of whales to the near-microscopic crackles produced by plankton, every sound tells a story about life and health beneath the surface.

By listening, we can detect stress signals, trace migratory patterns, track the intrusion of human-made noise, and even identify species that are otherwise invisible. Sound gives us a non-invasive, continuous way to understand and protect marine life—across scales and across time.

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AI…AI…AI…is AI doing anything useful in your field of applied bioacoustics?

Yes, AI is playing an increasingly valuable role in applied bioacoustics. With ecosystems producing vast amounts of acoustic data—24 hours a day, across countless frequencies—it is simply beyond human capacity to listen to everything. AI helps us bridge that gap. It can detect, classify, and even interpret acoustic events in real time, from whale calls to the subtle signatures of insect populations or reef health.

But what is exciting is not just the automation, it is the potential to find patterns we might never have noticed ourselves. AI can help us understand ecosystems as dynamic, interconnected soundscapes, revealing subtle changes that signal stress, recovery, or the presence of species we thought were gone. When guided by ecological understanding, AI becomes not just a tool, but a partner in listening more deeply to life.

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If you could design an experiment without any limitations of time or money…what would it be?

If there were no limits of time or money, I would design a global acoustic nervous system for the planet—a vast network of passive sensors deployed across every biome: deep oceans, remote rainforests, deserts, polar regions, and even urban environments. The goal would not just be to monitor biodiversity, but to create a living symphony of Earth’s sounds—an ever-evolving archive of life’s rhythms.

By integrating AI and local knowledge, this system could learn to recognise the subtle patterns of ecological health or distress, and alert us to changes long before they become visible. It could be our early warning system—and also our reminder—of the fragility and resilience of life on Earth. In a way, it would be like giving the planet a voice we can finally understand, if only we choose to listen.

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If you could have a superhero power. What would it be?

If I could choose a superpower, it would be the ability to wait—truly wait—with patience beyond time. In nature, everything unfolds in rhythms far slower and more subtle than we are used to. Being able to remain still, to listen long enough to understand what is really happening, would be the greatest gift. We often think of action as strength, but in my field, patience is what reveals the truth. And eventually allows to understand.

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Mystery dinner party…Dead or Alive, who would be 3 guests you would invite to your dinner party?

First, I would invite Sylvia Earle, not only for her pioneering spirit and love of the ocean, but for the poetic way she made science accessible to the world. I would love to hear how she would see tomorrow’s oceans, and what advice she would give to the next generation of explorers.

Second, Baruch Spinoza. His philosophy of nature as divine, and life as a single unfolding substance, resonates deeply with the interconnectedness I have witnessed through sound. I would want to ask him how he would interpret today’s ecological crises, and whether he would still believe that understanding leads to reverence.

And for something completely different… I would invite a sperm whale. Not to speak in our language, but just to be present—to remind us that most of life on Earth does not speak with words. I would hope that the silence in between its sounds would teach us more about our chance to survive on this planet than conversation ever could.

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Question to you from our previous guest, Dr. Graham Lau: “We’re pretty good at imagining dystopian futures, as they not only tell stories where our past behaviors have been taken to extremes but often they allow writers and filmmakers to imagine worlds of distant futures where technologies and cultural attitudes are based on our past. But we have too few stories that present more optimistic futures with advancements in science, technology, and culture. If you could look forward a century from now with hope and optimism for our biosphere, what do you think that future might look like?”

A century from now, I imagine a world where the next true revolution of human knowledge has taken place—not through conquering planets or building smarter machines, but through learning to communicate with the other species that share this one with us. We will have finally listened, not just heard.

Through advances in bioacoustics, neuroscience, and empathy, we will have found a way to translate—if only partially—the communication systems of whales, birds, insects, even trees. And through that, we will begin to remember something we forgot when we started putting words to thoughts: that language once separated us from nature, but listening can bring us back.

In this future, science and technology will not exist in opposition to nature—they will be rooted in it. Forests will be protected not because we fear their loss, but because we finally understand what they have been telling us all along. And in place of dominance, there will be dialogue. That is the future I hope for: one where humility becomes our greatest intelligence.

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