THE INSECT WORLD 



BEHAVIOUR 



Probably insects appeal to most of us in the first place 

 through our sense of beauty and strangeness. Most of us 

 have seen a red admiral on the Buddleia in our garden or an 

 eyed hawk moth on a paling. If we probe more deeply, the 

 story of insect behaviour can be just as engrossing. It is 

 soon apparent that many of their actions have, in some 

 sense, a purpose, but if we are not careful every word we 

 use carries into our discussions implications which it has 

 acquired in human intercourse. The red admiral feeds on the 

 nectar of Buddleia, but the female goes to nettle to lay her 

 eggs and it is on nettle that the caterpillar feeds. The be- 

 haviour of the butterfly has a purpose in the survival of the 

 species, but it is in the highest degree improbable that the 

 female knows what she is doing; she has no purpose in the 

 human sense. Her behaviour is instinctive: that is, it is not 

 learnt but produced automatically at the appropriate time. 

 We have no way of knowing what an insect is thinking nor 

 whether it is conscious at all, and it is best to avoid, as far 

 as possible, language which implies that we do know. When 

 we poke a wasps' nest with a stick, the " angry " wasps buzz 

 out and attack us. We use the word angry to avoid a clumsy 

 circumlocution, but we should not suppose that the wasp 

 feels as we do when our house is broken into by a burglar. 

 We cannot tell what the wasp feels, we can only see how it 

 acts. If sometimes in describing social insects it is convenient 

 to use words which have human applications, this is only for 

 convenience and in order to be more concise. 



The simplest type of insect behaviour consists in immediate 

 reactions to messages received from the outside world — the 

 rays of the sun, the water vapour emanating from damp soil, 

 the smell or appearance of food or of the other sex. It is an 



