Giraffe Tongues Are Nearly 2 Feet Long

Imagine having a tongue so long you could lick your own elbow—twice. That's essentially what giraffes are working with. An adult giraffe's tongue stretches between 18 and 20 inches (45-50 cm), with some exceptional specimens reaching a full 22 inches (55 cm). For comparison, the average human tongue measures a measly 3 inches. We're talking about a appendage longer than a standard ruler.

But length is just the beginning of this tongue's superpowers.

Built Like a Muscular Garden Hose

Giraffe tongues aren't just long—they're prehensile, meaning they can grip and manipulate objects like a miniature elephant trunk. Watch a giraffe feed and you'll see it wrap its tongue around branches, carefully strip leaves while avoiding thorns, and even use it to clean its own nostrils and ears. Yes, you read that correctly: giraffes can pick their nose with their tongue.

The tongue is also incredibly strong and dexterous, capable of:

• Grasping branches up to 6 feet away
• Stripping leaves from thorny acacia trees without injury
• Manipulating food with precision despite the thorns
• Cleaning dirt and insects from around their eyes

The Mystery of the Purple Tongue

Here's where things get weird: giraffe tongues are dark purple, blue-black, or even navy—at least the front half that spends the most time outside their mouth. The back portion is more of a normal pinkish color.

Scientists believe this isn't just nature being quirky. The leading theory suggests the dark coloration comes from high concentrations of melanin, the same pigment that darkens human skin in the sun. Given that giraffes spend up to 12 hours a day with their tongues extended, reaching for leaves in the blazing African sun, that dark pigmentation likely acts as built-in sunscreen. Without it, they'd essentially have a perpetually sunburned tongue. Ouch.

Evolution's Leafy-Snack Solution

The extreme tongue length evolved as the perfect tool for giraffes' preferred food source: acacia leaves high in the trees where other herbivores can't reach. Their long necks get them to the general vicinity, but the tongue does the precision work—reaching around branches, testing for tenderness, avoiding the nastiest thorns.

It's a remarkable example of form following function. In the evolutionary arms race between giraffes trying to eat trees and trees trying not to be eaten, the giraffe's tongue became increasingly specialized. The result? A purple, two-foot-long, incredibly strong, ultra-precise leaf-grabbing machine that can also double as a nose-picker.

Nature is nothing if not thorough.