By Sophia Monson | Social Media Editor
Our homes, offices and classrooms are often the spaces we feel most at ease — places defined by their familiarity. But that slice of peace can shatter in an instant, interrupted by something unexpected: an eight-legged creature clinging to the corner of your wall. Its still, watchful presence sends a jolt through your nerves as your gaze tightens. It’s now you versus the intruder.
So you grab a tissue, a broom and a can of spray.
It’s natural to feel uneasy around bugs. Their beady eyes and twitching legs can trigger a deep, instinctive fear. Yet, like many fears in life, confronting this discomfort is an important step to take. Insects are essential to life on Earth, as they play a key role in pollinating crops, fertilizing our soil and balancing countless other populations.
Choosing to kill rather than relocate is choosing to damage our ecosystems and inflict unnecessary pain on a creature that is an absolute necessity to us.
Many households have implemented pest-control methods, such as electric zappers or chemical sprays, that attract and then kill insects. The Institute for Environmental Research highlights how “removing these species disrupts pollination processes, soil health, and overall ecosystem function.” Opting for gentler alternatives, such as non-lethal repellants or simply relocating the small visitors, allows us to protect both the lives of these creatures and our planet.
Despite their alien-like appearances, insects are far more like us than we often realize. Growing evidence suggests that many bugs can feel pain and experience distress. Bees display complex behaviors that indicate a higher level of awareness and sensitivity. Bees aren’t the only insects believed to feel pain; many insects display behaviors that lead researchers to believe they experience distress and trauma similar to us.
When we swat a fly or moth, we are likely to be inflicting real pain on a tiny, vulnerable creature. Simply opening a window or trapping the bug under a cup to release it outside spares it unnecessary death and torment.
Peering through dozens of tiny eyes, insects watch us. Tiny beings caught in a world too large and too dangerous, targeting them for the sin of being present. They may begin to understand their time has come to an end without the choice to reason, plead or defend their life. Knowing that never again will they rest upon the petals of a lily, nourish a vegetable garden or spin a dew-coated web, they may silently accept their fate. And hopefully, an afterlife full of sugary fruit and warm sun will greet them kindly.
I’ll leave you with a portion of a poem that reads as a plea to God:
“…May the mice in oil and glue
forever have dry, warm fur and full bellies.
If I am killed simply for living,
let death me kinder than man.”
— Althea Davis
