We Crush, Poison, and Destroy Insects at Our Own Peril

This past summer, my wife and I ventured to an area near Mount Adams in southwestern Washington state to census bumblebees. We camped there over the weekend as we took part in the Pacific Northwest Bumblebee Atlas survey. Scientists want to fill gaps in their knowledge about the bees. Learning about the relative number of different species, and their floral resources over a broad area, provides invaluable information, particularly when some species are in decline. I was helping to determine where conservation efforts may be needed. Survey participants choose a territory where they capture and photograph bumblebees on two occasions. I still marvel at the variety in the photos we took—bees with coloration incorporating rusty bands of hair, black stubby hairs, white patches, orange bands, and a brilliant, lemon-yellow covering of long hairs. Bumblebees are really quite beautiful when observed more closely.

There is some risk involved, of course. Bumblebees have a painful sting and, unlike the honeybee, with its barbed stinger, the sharp, smooth bumblebee stinger can sting multiple times. Insect stings may serve two purposes. The first is to incapacitate prey. The second is to ward off predators. Bumblebees feed solely on pollen and flower nectar. So they would not sting to subdue prey. A bumblebee nest full of honey and nearly immobile larvae, though, is highly And judging by the way most people respond, it works pretty well. The sting of the honeybee has been used as a reference point by sting pain connoisseur, Justin Schmidt. He rates the bumblebee and stings as a pedestrian 2 on his scale of 1-4. But that’s a sufficient wallop for people to keep their distance from these bees—and that’s the way the bees like it.