As humans, we love to spin a narrative. We look at our cats and instinctively try to interpret what they’re feeling. A relaxed posture might read as contentment, while alert body language can be mistaken for stress or unhappiness. However, a recent study published in Anthrozoös hones in on an important truth, our perceptions of cat emotions are strongly guided by our own emotional state and the context in which we see the cat, rather than the cat’s actual emotional state.

The researchers investigated how people interpret cat emotions by showing participants images of the same cats placed in different environments that were AI generated. Some images showed cats indoors, while others placed the same cats in outdoor settings. Participants were then asked to rate how they believed the cat was feeling and to reflect on their own emotional reaction to the image at the same time.

What the study revealed was interesting. Cats shown indoors were consistently rated as experiencing more positive emotions than the same cats shown outdoors. This pattern stayed consistent even for participants who believed that cats should have access to the outside world. Simply changing the background altered how people decoded the cat’s emotional state, despite the cat’s body language remaining the same.

Another key finding was the role of the viewer’s own emotional response. Participants who reported feeling positive when viewing an image were far more likely to believe the cat in the image was also feeling positive. In other words, people were often projecting their own emotions onto the cat. This suggests that when we say a cat ‘looks happy’ or ‘looks stressed’, we may actually be describing our own emotional state rather than the cat’s.

The study also touched on arousal levels. Cats shown outdoors were often perceived as more highly aroused, which many participants interpreted negatively. In feline behaviour, however, arousal does not automatically equal fear or distress. A cat can be alert, focused, or curious without being emotionally unwell. This distinction is frequently misunderstood, both in still images and in real-life situations.

From a behaviour and welfare point of view, these distinctions matter. How we interpret a cat’s emotional state influences the choices we make on their behalf. Misreading a cat as unhappy may lead to unnecessary interventions, while missing genuine signs of stress can delay essential support. This has implications not only for pet guardians, but also for shelters, rescues, and veterinary settings where cats are often assessed quickly and visually in an environment where elevated FAS (fear, anxiety, stress) is likely.

The research reinforces something behaviour professionals have been yelling from the rooftops for a long time, and that is that understanding cats requires more than just intuition. While experience and empathy are valuable, they are not substitutes for education in feline body language, context-specific behaviour, and species-appropriate communication. Cats are notoriously subtle communicators, and their emotional states cannot be accurately judged from appearance alone, especially when our human bias is part of that conversation.

Perhaps the most important takeaway from this study is not that people are inherently ‘bad’ at reading cats, but that self-awareness is required. When we stop to ask ourselves how our own emotions, beliefs, and expectations might be influencing our interpretation, we allow space for a more accurate and compassionate understanding of the cat in front of us.

Learning to observe cats without projection is a skill, and like any skill, it improves with guidance and practice. When we shift our focus from how a situation makes us feel to what the cat is actually communicating, we are better equipped to support their emotional wellbeing whilst strengthening the human–cat bond.