The Insect Apocalypse

Some 25 years ago I went on a weekend away to Fort Augustus in the Highlands. At the time we had an old Mk 2 VW Golf and it felt like a huge trek to get up there. On arriving we were surrounded by clouds of midges and other flying insects which were intent of making life miserable for all concerned. One American tourist asked what the best way of getting rid of the midges was and I suggested that I had great success by hitting them very hard with a small German car.

I seem to recall that we had to stop a couple of times on the way up to clear the screen of insect debris just so that we could see where we were going. In more recent years I have had to do this task  far less frequently and I had wondered if this was an effect of the cars having a more raked, aerodynamic profile at the front but one news story this week would seem to indicate that there is another, more worrying reason for the lack of splatted insect matter on the car.

A 75% reduction of flying insects in 30 years is not a trivial matter, in fact it could be disastrous as these animals pollinate flowers or, at least, form the bottom layer of the food chain. I’m pretty sure I have noticed a decline in insects in general. When I am walking the dog in the early evening there are far fewer clouds of midges and other flying insects seem to be few and far between. I’ve also noticed fewer bats which at one time were very common around the woods that I walk the dog and feed upon the midges (which is why I have always tried to encourage them with bat boxes).

It’s not entirely clear as to the cause of this decline but there is a great suspicion that pesticides such as neonicotinoids have caused a reduction in the honey bee population. The effect on other insects and the environment still needs research but this isn’t exactly the first time that we have been poisoning ourselves in this way. Rachel Carson wrote Silent Spring on the dangers of DDT back in 1962 and I am always reminded of this 1969 poem by the late, great John Betjeman:

Harvest Hymn
by John Betjeman

We spray the fields and scatter
The poison on the ground
So that no wicked wild flowers
Upon our farm are found.
We like whatever helps us
To line our purse with pence;
The twenty-four-hour broiler house
And neat electric fence.

All concrete sheds around us
And Jaguars in the yard,
The telly lounge and deep-freeze
Are ours from working hard.

We fire the fields for harvest,
The hedges swell the flame,
The oak trees and the cottages
From which our fathers came.
We give no compensation,
The earth is ours today,
And if we lose of arable,
Then bungalows will pay.

All concrete sheds.......