On Insect cocks

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Cock. Penis. Dick. Wang. Whatever you call the male appendage, this is an area of insect physiology where things get pretty wild. Or perhaps more accurately, wilder than the usual.

But let’s start scientifically-correct: in the insect world the closest thing to the human penis is more properly known as the aedeagus. But ‘closest thing’ does not in any way imply great similarity. It’s actually part of the insect abdomen, and the external part of the male’s sexual weaponry is a phallus of extremely various flaps, hairs and hooks. Still with this? Good.

When it comes to shape, describing the situation as complex doesn’t get anywhere near to doing it justice. Menno Schilthuizen’s account of genital evolution is a comprehensive overview (far more so than can be included here), highlighting a wonderfully alien world of ‘prongs’, ‘pegs’, ‘springs’ and ‘titillators’. If insects are purely in it for the passing of genes, they could’ve fooled us.

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Amazing aphid dicks: from Wieczorek et al, 2011 

There’s so much to say about the morphology of aphid appendages alone that the main journal paper on the matter comes in two parts. For relatively small insects, aphids come with a significant package – “relatively large and discernible under a hand lens or even with the naked eye”. The paper includes such descriptive gems as “a few circular pits distributed mostly in its medial part. Sclerotized arms with distal part rather long and thin, and proximal part shorter and wider. Aedeagus long, inverted question mark-shaped.” And that’s just the aphid Drepanosiphumplatanoidis. Big name, big aedeagus.

Smutty jokes aside (but not for long), in insect taxonomy, male sexual organs can be extremely helpful in establishing exactly what species you’re dealing with. In fact, it can often be the only way of making a certain identification. So far, so useful, to us as well as them. But how do insects actually, you know, do it? Again, this is no simple matter.

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Normal for dragonflies: from Miller, 1991

The ‘lock and key hypothesis’ is an idea that has persisted in entomology – and, naturally,
argued over. It asserts that male and female sexual organs of an insect species, whatever wacky shape and size they are, have evolved to only be the exact ‘fit’ for each other. The theory, however, has been largely discredited over the years.

What’s abundantly clear is that sex is rarely anything straightforward in the insect world – there’s little by way of proxy for missionary. Dragonflies are a good go-to example for the messiness of it all – so much so that their sexual antics inspired a New York Times article, in which the slaty skimmer (Libellula incesta) is described as having a “fairly rococo penis”. Sex begins with what constitutes foreplay – the male grabbing the female at the back of the head – while dragonfly dongs are not just about depositing sperm, they’re also about removing that of rivals. Naturally, females are tooled up to stop that happening, if at all possible.

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Brutal bruchid beetle bell-end: Wikimedia Commons

The mealworm beetle (Tenebrio molitor) also has a dick geared up to dispatch the genes of its rivals. In the words of this paper on the matter, it “comprises a central shaft enclosed within a flexible sheath covered with chitinous spines. As the shaft extends within the female’s copulatory bursa the sheath and its covering of spines rolls back producing a `scouring’ effect.” Lovely.

With schlongs often more resembling torture implements, things can get even more brutal. Males of the bruchid beetle (Callosobruchus maculatus) actually damage the female’s reproductive tract during sex, and females, understandably, kick them for it. If she doesn’t kick, injuries tend to be worse after a longer sex session. Yet according to this paper, the carnage is not a deliberate act of destruction by the males, just an unfortunate by-product of them evolving weapons that are literally weapons. Why, it’s not yet known, but the theory is its all about being able to cling tightly to their ‘loved’ one.

If this blog puts insects in danger of being adopted by the alt-right as beacons of ultra- masculinity, hold that thought right there. Transgression of gender norms is happening in Brazilian caves, don’t you know. In the louse genus Neotrogla, it’s the females with the penis-like protrusion, and the guys with a chamber comparable to a vagina. A very niche re-definition of ‘wearing the trousers’ for sure, and in marked contrast to the species of beetles and dragonflies using their phallus to screw over their rivals with a bit of sperm scooping, our ‘macho’ cave-based females are using theirs to collect it up. Through all the kink and horror, life finds a way.

So there, a piece about insect nobs has been published on the Entomology MSc blog. I can only hope this comes up in the exams in March, making things a little less hard. Too much smut? Probably.

 

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Ding Dong Merrily On IPM

Whether you celebrate Christmas or not, this time of year it’s cold and dark and the shops are full of lights and food. But it’s not just farmers and producers we have to thank for Christmas dinners, biological control agents are helping to put food on our table all whilst enabling traditional pesticide use to be reduced. Let’s take a walk through some traditional Christmas fare, their pests, and the solutions available.

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Sprouts

Love them or hate them, sprouts are an iconic part of Christmas dinner and have well-studied pests and therefore require a many-faceted pest management strategy. Intercropping and companion plants can be used to control the cabbage moth (Mamestra brassicae) and the garden pebble (Evergestis forficalis). Intercropping of mustard with the brussels sprout crop reduced levels of the mealy cabbage aphid Brevicoryne brassicae to levels where they can be adequately controlled by predatory syrphid larvae, without reducing sprout yield. Rove beetles (Aleochara spp.) can be used as predators to control the cabbage root fly, Delia radicum, once pest numbers have been reduced to an appropriate level.

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Garden pebble larvae on broccoli

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Mealy cabbage aphid infestation on a Brassica leaf

 

Carrots

It’s important, with all this indulgence, not to forget to leave some carrots out for any reindeer which might be passing this part of Shropshire. One study found that by growing carrot varieties with natural carrot root fly (Psila rosae) resistance, smaller amounts of insecticidescan be used, in turn allowing natural predators and parasitoids to work through the crop. It also found that sowing brassicas underneath the carrot crop can further reduce insecticide usage. This is the perfect example of how integrated pest management strategies can be used to deliver an effective alternative to traditional pesticides to secure sustainable production of my second favourite vegetable (spot the IPM student).

 

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A carrot root fly larvae emerging from an infected carrot

Wine

Port, sherry, Buck’s Fizz, whatever your tipple at Christmas is, if it’s wine-based, the likelihood is it’s made from the European grape Vitis vinifera, which is incredibly susceptible to pests and diseases, not least the Japanese beetle, Popillia japonica, which can feed on all parts of the plant both as a larva and an adult, causing dramatic damage in vineyards. Japanese beetle numbers can be reduced by up to 100% using the nematode worm Heterorhabditis bacteriophora which infect the beetle larvae and release Protorhabdus bacteria which kills them, without affecting non-target organisms in the soil.

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The life cycle of the Japanese beetle

Chocolate

UK residents consume the 4th most chocolate in the world, consuming on average 6.8kg of chocolate in 2015, and Christmas is a peak time for chocolate coins, Toblerone, and Terry’s Chocolate Oranges (not sponsored, sadly). One of the most important pests of chocolate is the cocoa pod borer moth (Conopomorpha cramerella): the larvae tunnel into the pod and feed on the seeds for two to three weeks before chewing their way out of the fruit to pupate. The damage they cause to the cocoa pods causes an enormous economic impact on cocoa industries, especially impacting Indonesia, Malaysia, the Philippines, Papua New Guinea and Western Samoa. The presence of the black cocoa ant (Dolichoderus thoracicus) has been observed to increase the amount of cocoa pod damage seen, with the ants entering previously damaged pods to attack the moth larvae. The presence of the ants also reduces the amount of rat damage normally found on up to 90% cocoa pods, showing the wide-reaching impacts of beneficial invertebrates.

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A cocoa pod showing damage from the larvae of the cocoa pod borer moth

 

Oranges

For many people, a satsuma in the toe of your stocking is a classic feature of Christmas, and even if not, a bit of fresh fruit can really help cleanse the palate as well as bringing a bit of welcome vitamin C in the cold, dark months. The chili thrips, Scirthothrips dorsalis Hood, is a significant pest of tropical fruits and ornamental crops, including causing silver scar damage to satsuma mandarin fruit. Luckily, however, the thrips can be controlled using phytoseiid mites as predators, including Neoseiulus cucmeris and Amblyseius swirskii, with A. swirskii being able to reduce the thrips level to one per leaf, where they’re no longer damaging to the plant.

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Chili thrips damage on rose leaves

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Thrips damage on young oranges

 

All these fun and games aside, it must be remembered that food security is a difficult and ever-changing issue, especially with the growing global population. The work which goes in to developing alternate solutions to traditional chemicals and ensuring that we can enjoy many Christmases to come, is an important facet of modern applied entomology.

Happy Christmas from the EntoBlog gang!

Britain’s Next Top Pest

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Our Entomology MSc gang have just had two weeks hearing from some of the key players in the biological control industry. While there were many invasive insect pests mentioned that are currently giving UK growers cold sweats in the middle of the night, a few names kept cropping up.

Without further ado, here’s a run-down of just a few of the headline crop-hungry taxa posing new threats on these shores.

Spotted wing drosophila (Drosophila suzukii)

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Not the most appetizing plum, thanks to D. suzukii (photo: Martin Hauser/ Wikimedia Commons)

Despite its catchy name, nobody hopes to catch this fruit fly on their crop. Originally from South East Asia, it’s been rapidly expanding its range in Europe, and was first seen in the UK in August 2012. Unlike like other Drosophila, which tend to go in for decaying and rotten fruit, D. suzukii uses its serrated ovipositor to lay its eggs through the skins of otherwise undamaged fruit. A neat evolutionary advantage for it, really bad news for growers of soft fruit.

The pest control industry is very much all over trying to get the better of this species, though there is no perfect formula. Research has suggested that using biological methods, in this case entomopathic nematodes and fungi, can reduce population development, but can’t stop outbreaks.

South American tomato moth (Tuta absoluta)

Another great name, another insect to strike fear into growers. Unsurprisingly, it’s massively into tomatoes, and can do enormous damage to crops when left unchecked – to the point when they can finish off the lot. Although numbers of outbreaks in the UK are still relatively small, the potential to penetrate all parts of the tomato plant means that any arrivals, such as in imports of Spanish tomatoes, must be taken very seriously indeed.

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The tomato isn’t looking great either (Photo: TNAU Agritech Portal)

Full development from egg to adult has been seen in a wide range of temperatures, and a 2013 study concluded that Tuta is “well able to develop under temperatures that would commonly be experienced in UK glasshouses”.

Other research has highlighted the potential of natural enemies to counter this tomato-loving moth, with Macrolophus and Nesidiocoris tenuis, two Hemipteran egg predators, now seen as having the best potential to make inroads into populations. The problem with this approach is that sometimes a beneficial insect can become a pest, and in this case, the biocontrols have been known to do plant damage themselves. Nothing is ever completely straightforward in the world of pest management, it seems.

Diamondback moth (Plutella xylostella)

There have been recent spikes in numbers of this lover of cabbage and cauliflowers, sparking natural concern among growers. Evidence is mounting that it’s surviving winter here, as well as resistant to pesticides.1280px-Plutella_xylostella1

The fight is by no means over, however. Intercropping – growing a different crop in proximity to the main one – looks like a promising tactic in taking on the pest. A 2010 study showed that planting onion, tomato or pepper with cabbage was as effective as spraying.

Melon thrips (Thrips palmi)

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Photo: Forestry Images/ Wikimedia Commons

Although this thrips species can’t survive the British winter, it can establish with protected crops, and is extremely unfussy in its choice of meal. As such, it’s as much a threat to growers of ornamental plants as it is to those in the fruit and veg business.

What’s more, it’s another insect known for being highly pesticide resistant, so effective biological controls are certainly what’s called for here. It seems likely that a mix of entomopathic nematodes and fungi may well be the dream team for tackling both the larval and adult stages.

 

Is that it?

Far, far from it. The insects featured here are certainly not the only ones that could potentially do significant harm in UK agriculture, should they both get the chance to arrive and find a way to consolidate their numbers here.

DEFRA’s top six of the very latest potentially damaging pests and diseases features a pair of longhorn beetles from the east, while the UK Plant Health Risk Register is a fascinating and somewhat frightening source of information about potential threats to the flora of this island. Currently listing 1,024 pests (not just insects, however), it serves to highlight that amidst the great advantages to global trade come some pretty serious pitfalls.

The prizes for pests that manage to establish themselves in the UK’s famously un-tropical climes are significant – and in an agricultural environment of reducing pesticide effectiveness and use, controlling their proliferation is a multi-faceted and often complex game.

Successful pest management has to take into account factors like the temperatures insects operate in, where they operate in the crop canopy, the need to tackle both adult and juvenile stages, and compatibility of biological control methods with insecticides and fungicides. It also needs to factor in a comprehensive clean-up after the pest has been beaten, to prevent an immediate repeat of the nightmare all over again.

While there are plenty of checks in place to try and prevent invasive pests getting the chance to test their resolve against the UK climate, it’s practically impossible to prevent every insect of potential harm making it past the border. The prerogative is that when they do show up, they are reported quickly, and expert advice sought when needed. If the last fortnight’s lecturers were anything to go by, there certainly is the expertise out there to nip most comers in the bud before scares become crises.

Spiders and insects: Evolution’s Tom and Jerry chase?

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Among the many interesting points raised during our recent Diversity and Evolution of Insects module was the idea that spiders and insects may have been involved in a sort of cat and mouse pursuit through the fossil record.

It’s certainly the conclusion David Penney reached in his 2004 paper looking at insect and spider family diversity over geological time. It’s suggested here that the rate of exponential increase in diversity was the same for both groups, and that one’s line of rapid diversification – known as radiation – followed the other.

Both insects and spiders tend to be linked with the history of flowering plants, but interestingly, the study also suggests that the major radiations of both these classic antagonists were out of the way a good 100million years before the flora joined the party. This being the case, the arms race began without the need for the habitats that we’d probably associate with the modern tussle of flying insects and web-weavers.

Co-evolution has been proven to be more likely when there’s a direct interaction between groups, and at least one dependency, so the idea of a hunger so profound it transcended the ages certainly sounds plausible. Yet it’s not a view universally shared.

It’s hard to conceive of the struggle between insects and spiders without thinking of webs – and the diversity of arachnid species is linked with the diversity of web design. But in the poetically-titled Tangled in a sparse spider web, researchers at the University of Barcelona muddy the waters of the ‘insects lead, spiders follow’ story of speciation.

They make a case that the diversification of spiders and their web-building approaches was all about moving to different habitats and making use of food resources in an increasingly structurally complex world. To be clear, it’s abundance of prey, they say, that was more significant in driving a species-defining approach to webs rather than its diversity. Loads of flying insects, yes, but not necessarily loads of different ones. They also make the case that the explosion of orb-webs couldn’t have happened at the same time as the insects were on their fiercest period of diversification.

Searching for trends through what remains of the species that have been here and gone is a notoriously tricky business – something that is more than acknowledged by the authors of the different theories offered here. Missing data is one of the foremost problems with scouring the past for clues that may illustrate a trend, while the ‘family trees’ considered in invertebrate evolutionary studies are often complicated and controversial; subject to different interpretations and revisions.

So, has predator chased prey through the ages, or are things a little more complex than that? Well, this is science – never the easiest place to get a neat narrative from. So while you can find shadows of Tom and Jerry, Road Runner and Wile E. Coyote, Bugs and Elmer and the rest if you trace the lineages of Arachnida and Insecta, pinning evolutionary trends on a hunter-hunted analogy alone probably won’t quite cut it.

Apocalypse by mosquito?

As part of our molecular tools lecture, expertly executed by Joe Roberts, we discussed the recent advancements of gene editing and its use in the eradication of malaria in Africa. Crispr is the cutting-edge gene editing tool that has garnered a lot of attention since it’s discovery in 2007. Further developments have led to it being the simplest method for editing the nucleotides on a DNA strand altering the original gene which can result in resistance to diseases, alleviate genetic disorders or treat blood diseases.

Despite its multitude of uses genetic engineering has been faced with large amounts of controversy. Gene drive, which is the promotion of specific genes in a population that cause infertility or death through release of carriers into the wild, has faced mass criticism due to the uncontrollable nature of the concept. Once these genetically engineered individuals are released, there is little that can be done to prevent the spread of the unwanted gene across species through natural hybridisation. There are also concerns over the potential impacts of eradicating an entire species from an ecosystem, which could result in a collapse if the eradicated species is an important food source-as in the case of mosquitos.

Malaria-carrying mosquitoes of the Anopheles family are one of the prime candidates for gene drive control. The infected females spread malaria through their bites, which release the parasite into the bloodstream of the unlucky animal. Malaria is life threatening, killing half a million people annually so control of the vectors (mosquitoes) is of particular importance. Many studies have been done into the prospect of gene drive control of these insects, with the most recent being the release of genetically engineered males into Burkina Faso that you may have seen on the news in the last couple of weeks, treated as the new apocalypse.

The release of these mosquitoes is being controlled by the non-profit research organisation “target Malaria” as a test for the potential release of gene drive organisms. The mosquitoes being released in their experiment are all sterile, thus are unable to pass on their edited genes. They are simply being released to gather data on their dispersal and won’t last more than a few weeks in the ecosystem. So, no, we haven’t reached the point of using gene drive in the control of malaria quite yet, but the organisation is hoping to eventually use their mosquitoes to eradicate Anopheles in sub Saharan Africa, albeit with more work needing to be done.

Whilst gene drive systems have been highly effective in population control for lab studies, the issues around potential hybridisation needs to be considered and it’s been discovered that these mosquitoes are capable of developing resistance to the edited genes through random mutations. Lab work is limited and simply can’t match the population size found in the wild-thus the rate of mutation faced by their gene drive experiments is much lower as they have fewer individuals to experience a random mutation. Therefore, actual field results may be hampered by development of resistance.

We are faced, then, with the final dilemma. Does the risk befit the reward? Do we risk the transfer of these genes through hybridisation to save the lives of half a million people a year? Is the rate of mutation high enough to negate the entire gene drive system in the wild populations? All that can be done is further research, taking the necessary precautions before leaping into a potentially disastrous situation. Which is exactly what the Burkina Faso release is for.

Parental Care in Insects

The concept of parents looking after their babies is easily recognisable. We were all cared for when we were younger (even if not by our biological parents); fed, clothed and housed. We recognise the same urge when we see a cat cleaning her kittens or a bird collecting nest materials, but do we see it in insects? Well, more than you might think.

Only about 1% of insect species show parental care; selection pressure favours lots of offspring, effectively limiting parental care to species which produce fewer young. Parental care can mediate the transition from solitary to group or family living, both for an individual and on an evolutionary scale. It is likely to have developed as an altruistic trait to enable parents to better ‘pass on their genes’ by improving the survival of their offspring, even at the cost of their own energy, food, or even future reproductive opportunities. It may be evolved in environments with high selective pressures such as predation risk or reduced food availability.

Some insects show pretty much every level of sociality that you can think of, so here’s a walk-through of what insect parental care looks like. Through egg care, larval care by one of both parents., and the formation of family groups, this is the insect guide to good parenting:

Egg care

In some species, parental care starts before the young even leave the egg. Female earwigs groom their eggs to remove harmful mould spores and secrete symbiotic bacteria onto the larvae which are both antibiotic and anti-fungal. One study found that only 4% of European Earwig (Forficula auricularia) eggs hatched when they were left untended, as opposed to 77% for tended eggs. Mothers do the bulk of the offspring care but for some species the father takes the burden.

Male water bugs (Belostomatidae) brood the fertilised eggs on its back until they hatch. Carrying the eggs around makes the males more vulnerable to predation and hinders their foraging, making a large energetic expense to rear their offspring. It also stops the male from being able to mate again until the eggs have hatched.

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Male Giant Water Bug carrying his brood (Matt Tillett)

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Female European earwig, (Foricula auricularia) with egg brood and nymphs (University of Florida)

 

Uniparental care

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The Australian Hornet (Abispa ephippium) with her nest (Ian Sutton)

Potter wasp (Eumeninae) females build small clay nests for their larvae, bringing them food, defending them against predators, repairing damage and cleaning debris from the nest. Males play no role in the larval care but do patrol nest sites to find females to mate with.

 

 

Biparental larval care

Burying beetles (Nicrophorus spp.) take it up a level with both parents caring for their brood. Not only do they stock their larvae’s underground nest (or ‘crypt’) with a decomposing carcass (yum), but they also feed them regurgitated meat if begged. If there isn’t enough carrion to go around, parents will cull the most demanding larvae; whilst this might seem harsh, it ensures the survival of their less needy siblings. Although the parents don’t form the monogamous pairs often seen among vertebrates, they will stay together until their larvae reach adulthood.

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Nircrophorus vespilloides individual feeding its young (Dr Clare Andrews)

Family groups

Cockroaches might not initially seem the most likely parents given their occasionally cannibalistic tendencies but show some of the most comprehensive parental care of the insects. The females of some species are viviparous, gestating their offspring under their wings and producing a protein and carbohydrate rich ‘milk’ to feed their young nymphs until they are old enough to be ‘born’.

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A pacific beetle cockroach (Diploptera punctata) ‘giving birth’ to nymphs. This species also produces cockroach ‘milk’ (Emily Jennings)

Both cockroaches and burying beetles, unusually for insects, form family groups. In cockroaches this is because nymphs need to receive the gut protozoa essential for digesting cellulose from their woody diets. They lose the protozoa after every moult meaning that to ensure the nymph’s survival the adults have to stay with their offspring until they reach adulthood.

It is thought that this feeding was the key which allowed ancestors of modern termites to become eusocial. Termites are very closely related to cockroaches and these family groups expanded and evolved to become eusocial colony organisms. Living close together with millions of their ‘siblings’ allows termites to be sure of security and a food supply and allows traits like monogamy, foraging and nest inheritance to be developed. The switch from parental to sibling care is thought to have led to social behaviour forming in ants, wasps, and bees.

Evolution of sociality

But what is the glue holding these parents to their offspring? It’s surely not the big eyes, fluffiness, and helplessness that draws us to babies, kittens, and ducklings- even entomology students would struggle to call a cockroach nymph cute. It seems insect ‘families’ are reliant on pheromones as a recognition mechanism. Earwig nymphs’ pheromones reflect the quality of the food they’re being given to influence their mother to provide more food if needed. Cockroach nymphs use similar pheromones to aggregate with their parents and siblings and are able to distinguish non-siblings.

Brood care is thought to also have driven formation of families and social groups in vertebrates. The evolution of parental care in insects can be a model for the evolution of parental care in birds, fish, and of course mammals. It seems that you might have a lot to thank cockroach milk for your survival to adulthood.

 

In defence of common names

In our Dipteran discussions on Tuesday last week, the idea of doing away with all insect common names was mooted. While this may have had some support from MSc colleagues in the room, I think the majority were probably with me in internally screaming “NOOOOOOOO!”.

Let’s be frank from the start: yes, our good old Anglicised common names are mostly easier to remember than scientific names, unless you’re a fluent Greek or Latin speaker. But that’s not why I’m here to stick up for the commoner.

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It’s well worth first acknowledging that there are problems with common names. Many are seemingly endless variations on a pretty loose theme (see the myriad ground beetles or hoverflies), and they can be different at national and even local level, de-standardising what is an internationally-agreed nomenclature and even muddying the waters of the body of research on given species.

But it’s not like the waters aren’t muddy enough in the first place. It’s arguable that things haven’t changed that much since 1942, when the Journal of Economic Entomology published an editorial stating:

With the scientific names of insects in perpetual chaos, due to the application of the law of priority, the splitting of species and generic concepts, and the endless shuffling of species from one genus to another, common names have come to have much more significance and importance than formerly.”

Common names have a tendency to cut through the noisy clanging of taxonomic debates – but they can do more than that: evoke, romanticise, or simply tell it like it is. On the latter, common names can tell you what an insect feeds on (pollen beetle, currant aphid, fungus gnat, dog tick), give you a crystal clear idea what an insect looks like (scorpionfly, giraffe weevil, orchid mantis, violin beetle), and let you know where it likes to hang out (larder beetle, house fly, museum beetle, bedbug).

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Devil’s coach horse beetle – Ocypus olens (Wikimedia Commons)

They can also simply bring a bit of fun to what can seem to outsiders like a dry discipline. Science is not forever vanquished by the simple admission that talk of fairyflies, ugly nest caterpillar moths, assassin bugs, beautiful demoiselle darters and bombardier beetles makes the world a slightly lighter, more wonder-filled place.

Common names can even reveal a bit about our culture. Why on earth shouldn’t Britain, a country steeped in existential angst and the occult, have brought its language to bear on the death’s head hawk moth, devil’s coach horse and deathwatch beetles?

As if to prove the joy of an apt common name, when Tuesday turned to Wednesday and we were introduced to the Lepidoptera via a photo of the Picasso moth, there was a notable instant improvement in the mood of the room, previously somewhat tense ahead of the afternoon’s assessed practical.

The power to evoke should not be underestimated in the communication of science. From a personal perspective, a life-long love of beetles would have been far less likely sparked by Lucanus cervus than stag beetle. The public are not a bunch to be sneered at for their failure to appreciate scientific correctness – and what’s more, need to be brought along as the pivotal role of insects in supporting human life becomes ever clearer.

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Picasso moth – Baorissa hieroglyphica (photo: M. Greeshma)

I agree wholeheartedly with Michael J. Samways, who in his 2005 book Insect Diversity Conservation urged experts not to shy away from charismatic ‘icon’ species and to use their common names, “so as to give the conservation mission warmth and familiarity”.

In case I haven’t made myself quite clear, I’m not just trying to make life more difficult for Giannis, Cyprus’s representative on the course, who’s been sitting through the Hellenic-monikered species being reeled off as part of our Biology and Taxonomy of Insects module with a distinct air of ‘heard it all before’.

And all of this is absolutely no argument against scientific names per se. Of course, they will always have primacy – but they shouldn’t sit on their own, or they might just find themselves in sparse company.