tag:theconversation.com,2011:/au/topics/spiders-497/articlesSpiders – The Conversation2024-01-04T12:51:25Ztag:theconversation.com,2011:article/2187452024-01-04T12:51:25Z2024-01-04T12:51:25ZSpiders really may be more scared of you than you are of them<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/566276/original/file-20231218-23-ws5uv6.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=24%2C12%2C8191%2C5456&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Spiders often act passively in response to humans. </span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.shutterstock.com/image-photo/jumping-spider-human-hand-2360829801">Jimmy_Chan/Shutterstock</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>Spiders have evolved creative strategies to allow them to thrive in habitats across the globe. The one thing that seems to elude them though, is the ability to charm the humans that they encounter. </p>
<p>But what about the spider’s perspective of humans when they find a new home near us? It’s not possible to read a spider’s mind, but research has uncovered some surprising insights about how they behave around humans. </p>
<p>Take the Jorō spider, <em>Trichonephila clavata</em>. News reports have <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K1ZXH_eT9c8">spread alarm</a> about the palm-size Jorō spider recently settling in parts of the US. </p>
<p>This spider is native to part of eastern Asia but over the last decade has established itself in the US, following its cousin, the golden silk spider <em>Trichonephila clavipes</em>, which arrived <a href="https://resjournals.onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/10.1111/phen.12385">around 160 years ago</a>. </p>
<p>But its behaviour suggests it may be more worried about us than the other way around. The Jorō spider has a tendency to play dead. This ploy is known as <a href="https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC5769822/">thanatosis</a> among scientists. It is a response to threats used by many creatures in the animal world, including other arachnids such as scorpions. </p>
<h2>Playing dead</h2>
<p>It’s common for spiders to do this in response to a potential hazard, or even as part of their mating strategy. What is unusual about the Jorō spider though, is just how long it keeps up the act. A <a href="https://www.mdpi.com/2813-3323/1/2/9">2023 study</a> of ten spider species found most spiders froze for about a minute in response to a few rapid puffs of air. Jorō spiders lay motionless for more than an hour. </p>
<p>Playing dead at specific times is an <a href="https://academic.oup.com/beheco/article/19/3/546/185057">advantageous strategy</a>. It reduces the chances of being eaten by predators or potential mates, such as cannibalistic <em>Pisaura mirabilis</em> (European nursery web spider) females.</p>
<p>It might come with a cost such as missing out on a passing feast in the form of a flying insect. But playing dead is probably a more energy efficient way of staying safe from a predator than active defensive strategies. For example, <em>Pholcus</em> cellar spiders will spend far more energy trying to confuse and deter predators by whirling around in their webs.</p>
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<p>Aggressive responses spiders use include raising their legs and moving their fangs to scare off other animals. More often though, responses to perceived threats – including an approaching human – <a href="https://besjournals.onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/10.1111/1365-2656.12177">are passive</a>. Examples include hiding or camouflaging against a background, masquerading as a different species, or even hiding behind other predators. The latter is adopted by <a href="https://doi.org/10.1007/s00265-014-1690-2">tiny jumping spiders</a> that take refuge from spiting spiders by hiding in ant nests.</p>
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<img alt="Japanese yellow joro spider in the web close up" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/562382/original/file-20231129-21-i6inhf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/562382/original/file-20231129-21-i6inhf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/562382/original/file-20231129-21-i6inhf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/562382/original/file-20231129-21-i6inhf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/562382/original/file-20231129-21-i6inhf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/562382/original/file-20231129-21-i6inhf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/562382/original/file-20231129-21-i6inhf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
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<span class="caption">Joro spiders aren’t exactly inconspicuous.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.shutterstock.com/image-photo/beautiful-japanese-yellow-joro-spider-net-2228441763">Photo Spirit/Shutterstock</a></span>
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<p>But the Jorō spider has a conspicuously coloured, gold and black body, and builds large webs one metre in diameter. It’s too large to hide and too distinctive to masquerade or mimic so must rely on other strategies, including playing dead. </p>
<h2>Who is scared of who</h2>
<p>It’s not clear why we are so susceptible to arachnophobia, but studies show humans have similar emotive reactions to very different animals (wolves, crows, spiders). Scientists suggest these fear responses to other animals are driven by a need to control our <a href="https://doi.org/10.3389/fenvs.2021.593501">ecological environment</a>. </p>
<p><a href="https://besjournals.onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/10.1002/pan3.10143">News stories</a> fuel people’s assumptions that spiders have bad intentions towards us. And these sentiments are reinforced by the <a href="https://www.dailymail.co.uk/sciencetech/article-9940273/Creepy-crawlies-Homes-invaded-thousands-spiders-mating-season-kicks-UK.html">seasonal appearances</a> of big spiders in our gardens and under the sofa. </p>
<p>Some spiders, such as the recluse spiders of the US, have a bite that <a href="https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC6628458/">sometimes needs medical treatment</a> but even then, the threat they pose is <a href="https://www.wired.com/2013/11/poor-misunderstood-brown-recluse/">often exaggerated</a>. To put it in context, no spider appears on the WHO’s <a href="https://www.who.int/news-room/fact-sheets/detail/animal-bites">list of dangerous animals</a> but domestic dogs and cats do. </p>
<p>Tens of millions of people are reportedly injured by domestic dogs each year. Stories about the benefits of spider venom, for example as templates for <a href="https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC6551028/">new medicines</a> that may one day be used to treat pain and diseases such as cancer, get a lot less media attention than spider bites.</p>
<p>People are also almost certainly more dangerous to spiders than the other way around. This is because our food production systems rely on insecticides that are lethal to spiders and are probably contributing to <a href="https://www.nature.com/articles/s41598-023-29003-2">their widescale decline</a>. This is a problem for humans because spiders have an important role in agriculture, eating pest insects. Their decline might have long-term consequences for what you put on your table. </p>
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Read more:
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<p>As a biologist, I can’t help but feel impressed by the imaginative solutions spiders use to cope with the world around them. They construct <a href="https://www.researchgate.net/publication/221959568_The_Role_of_Behavior_in_the_Evolution_of_Spiders_Silks_and_Webs">elaborate silken structures</a> – from giant orb webs complete with decorations (called stabilimenta), to cunningly disguised trapdoors in the ground. </p>
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<p>Spider silk allows them to live everywhere from the <a href="https://www.australiangeographic.com.au/topics/wildlife/2017/05/cave-spiders/">cold depths of deep caves</a>, to the <a href="https://www.cumbriawildlifetrust.org.uk/wildlife-explorer/invertebrates/spiders/water-spider#:%7E:text=The%20water%20spider%20is%20the%20only%20spider%20that%20spends%20its,Males%20are%20larger%20than%20females.">underwater realms</a> of ponds, to <a href="https://www.nationalgeographic.com/animals/article/tarantulas-spiders-new-species-high-elevation-news">high altitudes in the mountains</a>. </p>
<p>When small, spiderlings can travel thousands of kilometres by wind, using silken sails. In the same way that our life experiences shape us, the spider’s journey also shapes its future. This is because the environments young spiders experience during development, such as temperature or the amount of food available, can influence later life strategies, <a href="https://besjournals.onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/10.1111/1365-2656.12512">for example when foraging</a> or deciding whether to stay somewhere or move away.</p>
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<img alt="White silk spiral." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/562369/original/file-20231129-22-ulz8qc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/562369/original/file-20231129-22-ulz8qc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=418&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/562369/original/file-20231129-22-ulz8qc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=418&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/562369/original/file-20231129-22-ulz8qc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=418&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/562369/original/file-20231129-22-ulz8qc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=525&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/562369/original/file-20231129-22-ulz8qc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=525&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/562369/original/file-20231129-22-ulz8qc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=525&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
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<span class="caption">Spiders can spin elaborate webs: the spiral stabilimentum of Japanese spider Octonoba yaeyamensis.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Octonoba.yaeyamensis.stabilimentum.1.-.takinawa.jpg">Akio Tanikawa/WikiMedia</a>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/">CC BY-SA</a></span>
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<p>The Jorō is also capable of flying in the air as a spiderling, but its recent arrival in the US is probably the result of human activity. For example, hitching a ride in your luggage or on commercially transported goods. And our concern about their spread is best focused not on the spider itself, but on potential ecosystem disruption lower down the food chain.</p>
<p>New arrivals to an area – including this spider – might compete with resident species for food, or influence other types of plant or animal in unexpected ways. In Florida, for example, invasive <em>Cyrtophora</em> spiders sometimes spin so much silk that they cause problems for host plants, potentially <a href="https://entnemdept.ufl.edu/creatures/MISC/SPIDERS/Cyrtophora_citricola.htm">damaging farmers’ crops</a>. </p>
<p>This example serves as a reminder that the consequence of a spider’s actions might be more complicated than it first appears – passive or not. We benefit from improving our understanding of spiders. This will be easier if we can stop viewing them through an emotive lens.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/218745/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Sara Goodacre has received funding from NERC, BBSRC, Wellcome and the Royal Society. She is a member of the British Arachnological Society and the European Society for the study of Arachnology</span></em></p>An expert on why spiders are misunderstood and their fascinating survival strategies.Sara Goodacre, Professor of Evolutionary Biology and Genetics, University of NottinghamLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/2142522023-11-27T19:17:21Z2023-11-27T19:17:21ZEverybody has a spider story, but these amazing creatures are often misunderstood<p>The comedian Jimeoin once wrote a song titled Everybody’s Got a Spider Story (I believe; I can’t find it on YouTube now I am looking), in which each verse tells some alarming story of giant spiders crawling on faces or millions of baby spiders bursting out of someplace unexpected. </p>
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<p><em>Review: Silk and Venom: The Incredible Lives of Spiders – James O'Hanlon (NewSouth)</em></p>
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<p>James O'Hanlon’s <a href="https://unsw.press/books/silk-and-venom/">Silk and Venom: The Incredible Lives of Spiders</a> is, at heart, a call for us to start telling better spider stories – stories that celebrate the incredible biology of these creatures, rather than focusing on the surprise, terror and disgust they evoke in some people. </p>
<p>The book begins with an exploration of humankind’s negative feelings towards spiders, before examining a series of fascinating examples of spider biology, following the theory that to remove fear you must supply knowledge. </p>
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<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/560915/original/file-20231121-15-v5sum9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/560915/original/file-20231121-15-v5sum9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/560915/original/file-20231121-15-v5sum9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=933&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/560915/original/file-20231121-15-v5sum9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=933&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/560915/original/file-20231121-15-v5sum9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=933&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/560915/original/file-20231121-15-v5sum9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1173&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/560915/original/file-20231121-15-v5sum9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1173&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/560915/original/file-20231121-15-v5sum9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1173&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
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<p>For me, as someone who has spent over a decade specifically investigating venoms and silks in my professional capacity as a researcher, the call to recognise the valuable and wondrous aspects of spiders was preaching to the choir. I also suspected, having worked in this area for so long (as well as being an avid consumer of popular science), that there would be little in this book that would be new to me.</p>
<p>But I learned plenty and enjoyed it greatly. O'Hanlon’s easy and humorous style makes Silk and Venom a readily digestible and satisfying meal for anyone with an interest in the natural world. </p>
<h2>Spider fear</h2>
<p>Beyond the explanations of interesting aspects of spider biology, Silk and Venom is suffused with episodes from O'Hanlon’s own experience. These are among the most entertaining parts of the book. </p>
<p>In the first chapter on society’s fear of spiders, for example, O'Hanlon relates his surprise that a favourite part of a spider museum exhibition – where the museumgoers walked across an animation of a multitude of tiny spiders to enter – was moved due to the unease it induced. </p>
<p>We learn that when people’s fear of spiders is analysed, it is usually centred on spiders’ “leginess” or “the way they move”, rather than their venom. Much spider fear appears to be a learned behaviour.</p>
<p>In the second chapter, which proposes <a href="https://australian.museum/learn/animals/spiders/jumping-spiders/">jumping spiders</a> as the gateway to a spider addiction, O'Hanlon describes performing experiments on jumping spiders and recording the way they looked at him – a look that seemed to indicate there was someone in there: not just a creature with high intelligence and a sophisticated visual system, but one capable of something akin to derision and amused contempt.</p>
<p>There is an interesting chapter about spiders that mimic other creatures, either visually or through pheromones. These include <a href="https://australian.museum/learn/species-identification/ask-an-expert/spiders-that-mimic-ants/">ant-mimicking spiders</a>, which feed on ant larvae, and the exquisite camouflage of <a href="https://www.australiawidefirstaid.com.au/resources/australian-crab-spider">crab spiders</a> and <a href="https://australian.museum/learn/animals/spiders/bird-dropping-spider/">bird-dropping spiders</a>.</p>
<p>It’s the examination of some of the more confusing findings about spiders, which would have been easy to ignore for the sake of simplicity, that I really like in this book. </p>
<p>For example, crab spiders are an oft-cited example of perfect camouflage. They appear to blend in perfectly with the flowers on which they wait to ambush bees. However, we learn that crab spiders are not perfectly camouflaged to their bee prey. Bees see in ultraviolet, so we would expect crab spiders to be camouflaged in this visual range too, but the spiders actually show up brilliantly in the ultraviolet. </p>
<p>This turns out to be a kind of visual luring. The bees are more attracted to flowers with spiders than flowers without spiders. A similar process of luring seems to occur with spiders occupying orb webs, and web-markings, such as the X-patterns of the <a href="https://australian.museum/learn/animals/spiders/st-andrews-cross-spider/">St. Andrews Cross Spider</a>.</p>
<p>The chapter about how spiders capture their prey is where the discussion really gets going. O'Hanlon does a good job of reducing the complexities of how venom works into something both true and readable. He deftly explains some of the other aspects of venom research.</p>
<p>Asking which is the “most venomous spider”, for example, is a question that doesn’t really make sense. This is because venom acts differently on each individual species of animal, including the prey and predators of the spider and others. The actual danger posed by spider venom also depends on how much venom is injected, how likely the spiders are to bite, and so on. </p>
<p>This part of the book deals with which spiders are actually dangerous for humans, going through the handful of species that do actually pose a medical risk. It also delves into the use of spider venom as a biotechnological tool in medicine and agriculture, showcasing some examples where clever humans have repurposed molecules from venom to improve human health or agriculture. </p>
<p>We learn about attempts to use molecules from venom to battle facial tumour disease in Tasmanian devils, and how spider venom toxins are being repurposed into eco-friendly insecticides. This is actually a big field and there are many more examples that could have been included here, but what is included is dealt with well.</p>
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Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/dont-like-spiders-here-are-10-reasons-to-change-your-mind-126433">Don't like spiders? Here are 10 reasons to change your mind</a>
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<h2>Myths and misconceptions</h2>
<p>The myths and misconceptions around spiders are explored, starting with some of the most well-known. No, white-tailed spider bites do not cause tissue necrosis. No, spiders are not accidentally eaten when you sleep. </p>
<p>This section progresses from examining almost-believable urban myths to looking at how the treatment of spiders in mainstream media is almost unbelievably bad.</p>
<p>Some of the better spider stories we could be telling are about silk, the truly amazing material made by many arthropods, which has perhaps been perfected by spiders. </p>
<p>Spiders make multiple types of silk, including the strongest kinds we know of. Via people who have arduously collected and woven spider silks by hand, we learn about another quest in biotechnology: to understand the genetic codes behind spider silk, so that we can transfer those genes into microbes (or even arrange for them to be expressed in goat milk) and produce artificial silk in the lab.</p>
<p>This has been attempted many times with varying degrees of success. Though we are still not wearing shirts made by expressing spider silk genes in bacteria, I enjoyed reading about the individuals and companies who have tried to bring these kinds of silks to market and how far they have got – which is not far, mostly because it is just not profitable.</p>
<p>Sex and death are topics close to our hearts and O'Hanlon has an amusing chapter that considers spider reproduction and life cycles. He starts by looking at the recent discovery of <a href="https://www.newscientist.com/article/2186972-some-spiders-produce-milk-and-its-more-nutritious-than-cows-milk/">spiders that lactate</a> to feed their spiderlings, thereby possessing the feature we use to define our own order, the mammals. </p>
<p>The best parts of this chapter are about spider sex and sexual cannibalism, and the many quirks that evolution has delivered, including strategies some males use to avoid being eaten by their partners, and examples of those that seem to offer themselves willingly. </p>
<p>We also learn about spider death and the longest-living spiders. There is very little information about how long spiders live, but did you know that Tasmanian cave spiders can live for 20 years? Or that the oldest tarantula we know of (called #16 instead of something sensible like Methuselah) lived for at least 43 years?</p>
<p>My favourite part of Silk and Venom considers spider ballooning: the phenomenon of airborne spiders, with attached silk, floating or flying to new places. I had not come across the research O'Hanlon presents here, which makes quite a convincing argument that spiders are quasi-magical creatures that can fly. </p>
<p>Spider ballooning, it turns out, does not rely on a good breeze, as I had always imagined. Apparently, it <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/news/2020/dec/05/ballooning-spiders-take-flight-earth-electric-fields">relies primarily on electrostatic forces</a>. The clever spiders can sense electromagnetic fields and tell when conditions are perfect to release a negatively-charged silk web that will be repelled by the ground and attracted to the air. </p>
<p>In experiments in the lab, given the right electrostatic environment, spiders can take off in a completely windless chamber. </p>
<p>Spiders flying is a perfect segue to spiders in space. O'Hanlon reviews this fascinating history. Since 1973, there have been five missions to put spiders in space, the first four focusing on orb-web spiders and web construction in micro-gravity. </p>
<p>The spiders took time to adjust, first spending much time “swimming through space”, before learning to make almost-normal webs. Webs of golden orb weavers are usually slightly asymmetric, with the spider sitting on top facing the ground. In space, they became more symmetric (since there was no down) and the spider was doing its best to act normal by facing away from the light source. </p>
<p>The last mission focused on jumping spiders hunting in space, with the spidernauts again showing a remarkable ability to adapt their understanding of the laws of motion and hunt successfully in micro-gravity.</p>
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Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/here-are-5-new-species-of-australian-trapdoor-spider-it-took-scientists-a-century-to-tell-them-apart-165327">Here are 5 new species of Australian trapdoor spider. It took scientists a century to tell them apart</a>
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<h2>Better stories</h2>
<p>Silk and Venom concludes with two chapters that look at arachnophobia, how it arises and how it can be treated. O'Hanlon expresses his hope for the future of human-spider interactions. </p>
<p>He emphasises reasons why our storytelling about spiders matters, drawing an analogy with the discovery of whales singing and the way the complexity of whalesong had a big effect on how people thought of whales and contributed to their eventual protection from commercial whaling. Conversely, the “Jaws effect” led to worsening perceptions of sharks and the danger they pose, and has contributed to the persecution of sharks. </p>
<p>Silk and Venom was easy and enjoyable to read. O'Hanlon has done a great job of exemplifying how we can tell better stories about our arachnid friends. As well as the main text, the book features a survey, a choose-your-own-adventure section in which you play a jumping spider, and a selection of colour photographs. If you would like to pick up some better spider stories, I suggest you give it a read.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/214252/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Andrew Walker does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>James O'Hanlon’s easy and humorous style makes Silk and Venom a readily digestible and satisfying meal for anyone with an interest in the natural world.Andrew Walker, Postdoctoral Research Fellow, Institute for Molecular Bioscience, The University of QueenslandLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/2066352023-07-12T14:02:43Z2023-07-12T14:02:43ZBiophobia: search trends reveal a growing fear of nature<blockquote>
<p>“I can’t even watch a snake on TV without feeling sick to my stomach.”</p>
<p>“Swimming? Forget about it… I’m too afraid of sharks!”</p>
<p>“I can’t even be in the same room as a spider, it freaks me out.”</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Fear, disgust, and other phobic reactions are not uncommon when it comes to our interactions with the natural world – who doesn’t know someone who is afraid of spiders or snakes? Indeed, fear of spiders (arachnophobia) or of snakes (ophidiophobia) are thought to be among the most common “biophobias”.</p>
<p>The latter is defined by the <a href="https://dictionary.apa.org/biophobia">American Psychological Association</a> as “the fear toward certain species and general aversion to nature that creates an urge to affiliate with technology and other human artifacts, interests, and constructions rather than with animals, landscapes, and other elements of the natural world”.</p>
<p>There are evolutionary reasons for this behaviour: in our ancestral past, nature was a potential source of danger, and phobic reactions toward certain elements of the living world may have helped early humans to avoid infectious diseases or harmful encounters with dangerous organisms.</p>
<h2>Drivers of contemporary fear of nature</h2>
<p>But what about nowadays? It is estimated that <a href="https://www.worldbank.org/en/topic/urbandevelopment">more than half of the world’s population lives in urbanised areas far removed from wildlife</a>, and so we might expect a reduction in the prevalence of such fears. However, people continue to exhibit strong phobic responses toward organisms that do not live in our immediate vicinity even if they pose no tangible threats. This is worrying because it can lead to excessive anxiety and avoidance of interactions with nature, preventing affected individuals from experiencing the many physical and mental benefits that nature can provide.</p>
<p>Researchers interested in this phenomenon have therefore started to explore the reasons behind the sustained prevalence of nature phobias in modern societies. <a href="https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S0048969721012973">One hypothesis</a> that has been put forward for this phenomenon points toward living in urbanised areas as a key driver of fear of nature in contemporary societies. The same conditions that protect us from potentially hazardous natural encounters also imply reduced opportunities to interact with nature. The absence of regular nature experiences, and the contextual information they provide, may cause people to wrongly evaluate the potential dangers associated with nature and lead to unfounded fears or disgust. Contemporary societies may suffer from a vicious cycle of biophobia, whereby nature disconnection leads to nature phobias and vice versa.</p>
<p>In this context, some researchers have <a href="https://www.cell.com/trends/ecology-evolution/abstract/S0169-5347(22)00360-3">suggested</a> that biophobias may be increasingly prevalent across in modern societies but the extent to which this is true remains difficult to assess. Data on the prevalence of nature phobias is scarce, and is usually collected at specific points in time through targeted <a href="https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC5674525/">surveys</a>, posing a challenge to assess how it has changed over time. </p>
<p>In a recent <a href="https://besjournals.onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/epdf/10.1002/pan3.10497">study</a>, we approached this question through a different angle, using the power of the Internet. We reasoned that people suffering from nature-related phobias may search for online information about their condition and how to cope with it. Using worldwide data from Internet searches, we assessed the relative volume of Internet searches for 25 common biophobias between 2004 and 2022.</p>
<h2>How prevalent are biophobias nowadays?</h2>
<p>Our <a href="https://besjournals.onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/epdf/10.1002/pan3.10497">study</a> suggests the most common biophobias include fear of spiders, microbes and germs (mysophobia), and parasites (parasitophobia). These results corroborate other reports that fear of spiders is among the most common <a href="https://peerj.com/articles/3972">nature-related phobias</a>.</p>
<p>We also found a steady increase in online search volume for biophobias between 2004 and 2022, albeit with marked differences in trends for specific phobias. Interest in the some of the most common biophobias, such as fear of snakes (ophidiophobia) or germs, is also increasing, which suggests they are becoming more prevalent. For instance, our results show that searches for fear of germs peaked around the onset of the Covid-19 pandemic, providing additional evidence of the psychological strains caused by the pandemic. In contrast, only a few biophobias showed negative or stable trends. These trends were calculated based on the proportion of searches for biophobias in relation to the total number searches over the years, and thus cannot be simply explained by increasing Internet use.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/529034/original/file-20230530-29-5g4zha.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/529034/original/file-20230530-29-5g4zha.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=600&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/529034/original/file-20230530-29-5g4zha.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=600&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/529034/original/file-20230530-29-5g4zha.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=600&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/529034/original/file-20230530-29-5g4zha.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=754&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/529034/original/file-20230530-29-5g4zha.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=754&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/529034/original/file-20230530-29-5g4zha.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=754&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Temporal trends of relative search interest for each of the 25 specific biophobias assessed in the study.</span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Additionally, we found evidence that at the country level, interest in a larger number of nature-related phobias related to the percentage of the population living in urbanised environments, the population’s trend (whether it is growing or stable) and the number of venomous species found in the country. Specifically, interest in more nature-related phobias is concentrated in countries with large, stable and long-established urban populations such as Australia, Canada, Germany, the United States, or the United Kingdom. It is possible that a disconnection with nature has had more time to crystallise in these countries where some people have only experienced urban living during their lifetime. In contrast, many countries with smaller but rapidly growing urban populations, such as many countries in Africa and the Middle East, expressed less online interest in nature-related phobias.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/529035/original/file-20230530-21-2ca486.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/529035/original/file-20230530-21-2ca486.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/529035/original/file-20230530-21-2ca486.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/529035/original/file-20230530-21-2ca486.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/529035/original/file-20230530-21-2ca486.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/529035/original/file-20230530-21-2ca486.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/529035/original/file-20230530-21-2ca486.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Map (a) and distribution (b) of the number of biophobias with recorded search interest for each country.</span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Other possible explanations for our results include aspects related to differences in Internet access between countries or the motivations behind Internet searches for biophobias. For example, populations in urban areas also tend to have better Internet access and this could explain the lower prevalence of searches for biophobias in rural areas. It could also be that fear toward nature may be seen as a useful response in more rural areas and thus not something that people would search for ways to cope with. We are also aware that search engines other than Google dominate the market in countries such as China and Russia, which could also affect our results.</p>
<p>Nevertheless, our findings support the idea that disconnection from nature is growing in many modern societies due to urban living and is having an increasing cost on human well-being by promoting unfounded fears toward other life forms. As human societies become more urbanised, we risk losing our connection to the natural world, and developing more negative perceptions of and interactions with nature. It is time to reevaluate our relationship with nature and develop ways to bridge the gap, rather than widen it. The future of our well-being may very well depend on it.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/206635/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Ricardo A. Correia has received funding from the Academy of Finland (grant #348352) and the KONE Foundation (grant #202101976). </span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>Stefano Mammola est membre de National Research Council (Italy). </span></em></p>Online searches search trends reveal that there’s a growing link between modern ways of living and the vicious cycle of biophobia.Ricardo Correia, Assistant professor, University of HelsinkiStefano Mammola, Researcher in ecology and evolutionary biology, University of HelsinkiLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/2089872023-07-04T11:00:48Z2023-07-04T11:00:48ZThe fascinating Cameroonian art of spider divination is on display at London exhibition<p><a href="https://www.serpentinegalleries.org/whats-on/tomas-saraceno-webs-of-life-exhibition/">Tomás Saraceno In Collaboration: Web(s) of Life</a>, which opened at London’s Serpentine South Gallery in June, explores how humans relate to spiders. It features installations of spider webs displayed and lit to be viewed as sculptures. There are also films: one made about Saraceno’s work with groups battling lithium mining in Argentina and another about <a href="http://nggamdu.org/">spider diviners</a> from Somié village in Cameroon.</p>
<p>That’s where I came in. <em>Ŋgam dù</em> (the Mambila term for spider divination) is one of many types of oracle or divination used by Mambila people in Cameroon. It is the most trusted form and – unlike other types which are sometimes dismissed as mere games – its results <a href="https://www.routledge.com/Mambila-Divination-Framing-Questions-Constructing-Answers/Zeitlyn/p/book/9781032174082">can be used as evidence in the country’s courts</a>. Variants of this form of divination are found throughout southern Cameroon and the long history of the word <a href="https://nggamdu.org/nggam-du/"><em>ŋgam</em></a> attests to the longevity of the practice.</p>
<p>I work as a social anthropologist in the Mambila village of Somié. I have visited almost every year since 1985, working on a variety of projects. Divination was the focus of a chapter in my PhD in 1990, but I never stopped working on the subject. As well as becoming an initiated diviner, I have continued to think about the wider implications of using divination or oracles.</p>
<p><em>Ngam dù</em> is a form of divination in which binary (either/or) questions are asked of large spiders that live in holes in the ground. The options are linked to a stick and a stone then, using a set of leaf cards marked with symbols, the spider is left to make its choice.</p>
<p>The hole plus the stick, stone and cards are covered up. The spider emerges and will move the cards so the diviner can then interpret the pattern relative to the stick and stone. If cards are placed on the stick, then the option associated with that has been selected, and vice versa if the cards are placed on the stone.</p>
<p>Things get more interesting (at least to me and other diviners) if both options are selected, or neither. Sometimes a contradictory response is interpreted to mean that the question posed is not a good one. The diviner is thereby told to go and discuss the issue with the client and reframe the problem, posing a different question.</p>
<p>The process is “calibrated” regularly by asking test questions such as “Am I here alone?” or “Will I drink tonight?”. Spiders that fail these tests are discarded as liars and not used for future consultations. It’s also common to ask the same question in parallel to get a consistency check, so more than one spider can be used at the same time. Sometimes the stick and stone option are reversed to ensure that the spider isn’t just moving the cards always in the same direction.</p>
<p>Mambila diviners rely on these tests to justify the system, although they also say (as do many groups in Cameroon) that spiders are a source of wisdom since they live in the ground where the “village of the dead” is found.</p>
<h2>Tomás Saraceno and spider divination</h2>
<p>As an anthropologist, I avoid questions about whether spider divination is true. For me the important question is: “Does it help?”</p>
<p>Sometimes the results of divination are considered, but rejected, and the advice is not followed. Even in these instances it can be helpful, however, since it enables people decide on a course of action.</p>
<p>People use the results as a tool to help them think through hard decisions such as who to marry, or where to go for treatment when a child is ill. The latter involves weighing up conflicting considerations about expense, the possibility an illness has been caused by witchcraft and the reputations for effective treatment of different traditional healers as well as of rival biomedical health centres.</p>
<p>I met the Argentine artist Tomás Saraceno when he had an exhibit at the Venice Bienale in 2018. He was intrigued by the <a href="http://www.era.anthropology.ac.uk/Divination/Spider/index.html">computer simulation of spider divination</a> that my colleague Mike Fischer had made. He invited me to Venice to demonstrate the simulation and talk about spider divination in front of his “sculptures”, which are made in collaboration with spiders. They are patterns of spiderwebs displayed as art.</p>
<p>As we talked, I said that if one day he wanted to visit Cameroon I would be happy to introduce him to the diviners I worked with. In December 2019, he came with his friend, the filmmaker Maxi Laina. We visited Somié, where he worked with the diviner Bollo Pierre Tadios and the Mambila filmmaker Nguea Iréné.</p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/FFesNa4qMXA?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
<figcaption><span class="caption">Trailer for Tomás Saraceno in Collaboration: Web(s) of Life.</span></figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Saraceno and Laina came with some questions to ask from their friends. This included “Who would win the 2020 US election?” This was the Trump v Biden election, the results of which Trump went on to question. The answer was that there would be a new president but it would not be straightforward!</p>
<p>Saraceno liked the idea that spiders could help humans resolve their personal problems. It gave an example of a different way in which human-spider relationships are expressed. Bollo liked the idea of opening the process up to questions from outside the village. He already has some clients from other places in Cameroon who call him, so working internationally is very doable.</p>
<p>He suggested that Saraceno could make his work accessible via the internet, which he has now done <a href="http://nggamdu.org/">through a dedicated website</a>. Some of the first results are included in the Serpentine exhibition along with film made by Nguea Iréné of Bollo in action. The film will also be shown in the village later in the summer.</p>
<p><em><a href="https://www.serpentinegalleries.org/whats-on/tomas-saraceno-webs-of-life-exhibition/">Tomás Saraceno In Collaboration: Web(s) of Life</a> is on at London’s Serpentine South Gallery until 10 September.</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/208987/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>David Zeitlyn has received funding from AHRC, ESRC, EPSRC</span></em></p>Ngam dù is a form of divination in which questions are asked of large spiders that live in holes in the ground. The results of spider divination can be used as evidence in Cameroon’s courts.David Zeitlyn, Professor of Social Anthropology, University of OxfordLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/2010662023-04-17T21:43:23Z2023-04-17T21:43:23ZStudying the stomach contents of spiders shows how they help control crop pests<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/517678/original/file-20230327-24-4hh6yn.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=0%2C27%2C4608%2C3035&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Spiders can be effective pest control agents.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">(Shutterstock)</span></span></figcaption></figure><iframe style="width: 100%; height: 100px; border: none; position: relative; z-index: 1;" allowtransparency="" allow="clipboard-read; clipboard-write" src="https://narrations.ad-auris.com/widget/the-conversation-canada/studying-the-stomach-contents-of-spiders-shows-how-they-help-control-crop-pests" width="100%" height="400"></iframe>
<p>On farms, spiders are important predators who control insect populations, including pests that can damage crops. </p>
<p>Understanding their role in agricultural ecosystems reveals how they could be used as a <a href="https://www.nj.gov/agriculture/divisions/pi/prog/buglab/what-is-biological-control/#:%7E:text=">biocontrol agent</a> to limit pest populations.</p>
<p>The semi-natural areas that surround farm fields are <a href="https://doi.org/10.1111/rec.13485">important sites for spiders</a> and other arthropods. These habitats can provide shelter and alternative food sources for spiders when crop fields might be too harsh to live in because of pesticide use or tilling.</p>
<h2>Spiders’ diet</h2>
<p>To determine whether spiders are effective at biocontrol, it is crucial to know the diet of these spiders and whether they eat crop pests.</p>
<p>The relative size of some insect prey, and the toughness of their exoskeleton, limit spiders’ ability to mechanically chew their food, so they eat by liquefying the remains of their prey.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/514007/original/file-20230307-22-g322r3.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="an illustration of the anatomy of a spider" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/514007/original/file-20230307-22-g322r3.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/514007/original/file-20230307-22-g322r3.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=354&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/514007/original/file-20230307-22-g322r3.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=354&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/514007/original/file-20230307-22-g322r3.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=354&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/514007/original/file-20230307-22-g322r3.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=444&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/514007/original/file-20230307-22-g322r3.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=444&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/514007/original/file-20230307-22-g322r3.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=444&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Diagram of the internal anatomy of a female two-lunged spider.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Spider_internal_anatomy-en.svg">(J.H. Comstock and R.F. Felix)</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Spiders <a href="https://doi.org/10.1186/s12864-017-3987-9">expel digestive enzymes from their intestinal tract</a> onto their prey to break down body tissues. This makes it difficult for researchers to investigate spider diets. </p>
<p>One solution is to analyze the gut contents of spiders using DNA barcoding, a technique that involves sequencing a short, standardized fragment of DNA from a particular gene to identify a species — including any liquefied evidence.</p>
<p>The history of DNA barcoding dates back two decades, when biologist Paul Hebert <a href="https://doi.org/10.1098/rspb.2002.2218">applied DNA barcoding to arthropods</a>. Hebert pointed out that animal species could be distinguished by sequencing a specimen’s DNA.</p>
<p>Over the years, this technology has become increasingly sophisticated, with advances in DNA sequencing and bioinformatics making it possible to quickly and accurately identify species from a wide range of samples.</p>
<h2>Gut contents</h2>
<p>The use of DNA barcoding specifically <a href="https://doi.org/10.1002/edn3.62">for spider gut content analysis has become increasingly popular</a>. By analyzing the DNA found in a spider’s gut, researchers can determine what the spider has eaten and learn about its role in the ecosystem. </p>
<p>The process of <a href="https://doi.org/10.1139/gen-2018-0093">spider gut content analysis using DNA barcoding</a> begins by capturing spiders in the field. Spiders are then ground up whole into a “DNA soup” using a specific set of steps to extract the DNA from the stomach contents. This grinding step is important because a spider’s stomach extends into many different parts of the body and it’s why total body grinding can <a href="https://doi.org/10.1371/journal.pone.0196589">help find results of the prey’s remains</a>.</p>
<p>Researchers can use DNA barcoding to determine if a spider is a generalist — feeding on a wide range of prey species, or a specialist — feeding on a particular species or group of species (like agricultural pests).</p>
<p>With this information, spiders could be deployed as biocontrol agents — a more sustainable, cheaper and environmentally friendly pest management solution.</p>
<p>Generalist predators, including spiders, eat <a href="https://doi.org/10.1038/s41598-018-26191-0">whatever they can find</a> in agricultural landscapes. This includes pest species like <a href="https://www.britannica.com/animal/aphid">aphids</a> and non-pests like <a href="https://theconversation.com/hidden-housemates-springtails-are-everywhere-even-in-your-home-60233">springtails</a>. </p>
<p>Researchers found that early season sampling revealed “empty guts” of predators, and an increase of gut contents later in the season. This previous research investigated only three spider species and only during the early and the late cropping season. </p>
<p>Our ongoing research is tackling these gaps.</p>
<h2>Sampling spider communities</h2>
<p>Our research is conducted in agricultural landscapes with one thing in common: they all have restored habitat adjacent to the crop field. This includes tall-grass prairie and wetland areas. </p>
<p>Different habitat types on farms will undeniably change food web structure on farms, with different prey and predator groups coming in and out throughout the season. These aquatic (wetland) and terrestrial (prairie) habitats may foster spider populations and therefore the biological control function on farms. </p>
<p>We sampled spider communities intensively for four months between May and August, and at different distances from crop fields to study spider movement throughout the crop growing season. </p>
<p>This knowledge is largely important for managing farm systems to help determine the timing of pesticide applications in crop fields.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/515973/original/file-20230317-22-znihry.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=0%2C17%2C1200%2C779&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="a close-up of a tiny spider on a leaf" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/515973/original/file-20230317-22-znihry.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=0%2C17%2C1200%2C779&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/515973/original/file-20230317-22-znihry.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/515973/original/file-20230317-22-znihry.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/515973/original/file-20230317-22-znihry.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/515973/original/file-20230317-22-znihry.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/515973/original/file-20230317-22-znihry.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/515973/original/file-20230317-22-znihry.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Jumping spiders are more active during June and August.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">(A. Dolezal)</span>, <span class="license">Author provided</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Spider groups</h2>
<p>Our preliminary data has found several spider functional groups — web-spinning, ground spiders, ambush spiders, hunters — on farmlands with restored habitat next to crop fields. </p>
<p>A total of 20 spider families have been consistently found throughout the sampling period, with some spiders more prevalent in certain habitats than others. These 20 spider families on farms is a great number to see considering we have an <a href="https://www.toronto.ca/wp-content/uploads/2017/08/8f2a-Biodiversity_SpiderBook-Division-Planning-And-Development.pdf">estimated 25 spider families in and around these areas</a>. </p>
<p>We have been finding a higher abundance of spiders and their insect prey in the semi-natural areas (wetlands, prairies) surrounding the crop fields, and closer to the restored areas. </p>
<p>Our preliminary data also shows that June and August are peak times for spider activity on farms, and they move around a lot more than in May and July.</p>
<h2>Providing protection</h2>
<p>Gleaning information from spider stomach contents will help understand the role spiders play in the ecosystem. This is particularly important in agriculture to promote environmentally sustainable models for crop protection inspired by natural pest control.</p>
<p>According to a meta-analysis of 58 published studies, <a href="https://doi.org/10.1111/geb.12927">spiders suppressed agricultural pest insects in 79 per cent of studies</a>, which resulted in improved crop performance.</p>
<p>Relying excessively on chemicals to control crop pests is not a sustainable option; using ecologically based approaches is urgently needed. </p>
<p>DNA barcoding opens up new avenues for studying <a href="https://doi.org/10.3390/insects11050294">the ecology of spiders and their potential as biological control agents in agricultural landscapes</a>. And with further advances in DNA sequencing technologies and bioinformatics, this will contribute to agricultural practices that are more sustainable.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/201066/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>The authors do not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and have disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>Spiders liquefy their prey in order to consume it, and this makes it challenging to determine what spiders eat. A new approach that uses DNA barcoding is helping researchers figure out spider diets.Aleksandra Jessica Dolezal, PhD Candidate, Integrative Biology, University of GuelphAndrew MacDougall, Professor, Integrative Biology, University of GuelphDirk Steinke, Adjunct Professor, Integrative Biology, University of GuelphJeremy deWaard, Adjunct Professor, Centre for Biodiversity Genomics, University of GuelphLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1999352023-02-20T16:33:57Z2023-02-20T16:33:57ZNoble false widows: the tiny spiders taking a big bite out of British and Irish wildlife<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/510559/original/file-20230216-28-ewibt4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=0%2C0%2C4660%2C3104&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">The small and unassuming _Steatoda nobilis_.</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.shutterstock.com/image-photo/steatoda-nobilis-looking-preys-1461729491">JorgeOrtiz_1976/Shutterstock</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>Over the last two decades, an uninvited guest has made an appearance in and around homes throughout western Europe, including Britain and Ireland, as well as west Asia and the Pacific coast of North and South America. </p>
<p>It is small and inconspicuous, yet nothing seems to stop its expansion. From its native habitat in the nooks and crannies of caldera rocks in the highlands of Madeira and the Canary Islands, to feeding on shrews, bats and lizards in the suburbs of London and Dublin, the noble false widow spider (<em>Steatoda nobilis</em>) is a threat to ecosystems that you’d probably overlook.</p>
<p>The noble false widow spider was first described by a taxonomist in 1875. Four years later the Reverend Pickard-Cambridge, a keen arachnologist, identified a young female on the south-west coast of England. In 1929, the author and explorer William Syer Bristowe suggested that <em>Steatoda nobilis</em> may have been imported occasionally from the Canary Islands in shipments of bananas. </p>
<p>In 2000, populations of noble false widows were observed in a narrow area extending from Bournemouth to Southampton and Portsmouth. In 2005, they were seen in London and Birmingham. By 2017, reports of noble false widows were coming from as far north as Glasgow, Edinburgh and the Orkney Islands. </p>
<p>Meanwhile, most of western Europe, from Portugal to northern Germany, was reporting sightings. Further east, the species was discovered in Turkey and Iran, while in the west, populations were reported in California, Ecuador and Chile.</p>
<p>Despite the speed with which this spider has spread, it has yet to be officially recognised as an invasive species. Scientists must first assess the impact it has wherever it’s found outside of its native range. Following a series of allegedly severe spider bites in the UK and in Ireland in 2015, we at the University of Galway Venom Systems Lab began investigating.</p>
<p>We have since published 13 studies on the noble false widow. <a href="https://esajournals.onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/full/10.1002/ecs2.4422">Our latest research</a> documents one eating <a href="https://www.wildlifetrusts.org/wildlife-explorer/mammals/pygmy-shrew">a pygmy shrew</a> (<em>Sorex minutus</em>), a protected species in Britain. This is a remarkable feat as pygmy shrews are roughly ten times larger than noble false widows. </p>
<p>This is the first time a spider of this kind has been seen eating a shrew and the third documented case of one preying on small vertebrates, suggesting that this species often preys on animals with backbones.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="A small rodent caught in a web on a windowsill, attended by a spider." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/510561/original/file-20230216-20-v6mm6z.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/510561/original/file-20230216-20-v6mm6z.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=505&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/510561/original/file-20230216-20-v6mm6z.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=505&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/510561/original/file-20230216-20-v6mm6z.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=505&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/510561/original/file-20230216-20-v6mm6z.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=635&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/510561/original/file-20230216-20-v6mm6z.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=635&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/510561/original/file-20230216-20-v6mm6z.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=635&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">An adult female noble false widow with its catch of the day – a pygmy shrew.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Dawn Sturgess</span>, <span class="license">Author provided</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Alien species are classified as invasive when they reproduce and spread beyond their original site of introduction to damage ecosystems, human health or the economy. By eating and outcompeting native species, noble false widows fit the description of an invasive species.</p>
<p>The noble false widow is not a visually spectacular spider. It has a dark, bulbous abdomen bearing a light brown hexagon that resembles a skull and is roughly the size of a 50p coin. It produces small, messy-looking webs.</p>
<p>When disturbed, this spider either retreats in its hide or drops on the floor and clumsily runs for shelter. Sometimes it plays dead to avoid being eaten. So why is it so successful at invading new territories?</p>
<h2>A skilled (but unassuming) predator</h2>
<p>Noble false widows outbreed their native competitors wherever they establish. This species can withstand a wide range of climates and remains active during the winter when many spiders native to Ireland and Britain slow down. A <a href="https://www.jstor.org/stable/10.3318/bioe.2017.11">study</a> in Ireland showed that females can lay a sack containing up to 200 eggs every three to four weeks between April and September. Many native spiders lay only one to three egg sacks a year.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="A spider surrounded by leaves." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/510428/original/file-20230215-28-qw965b.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/510428/original/file-20230215-28-qw965b.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=615&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/510428/original/file-20230215-28-qw965b.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=615&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/510428/original/file-20230215-28-qw965b.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=615&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/510428/original/file-20230215-28-qw965b.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=772&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/510428/original/file-20230215-28-qw965b.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=772&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/510428/original/file-20230215-28-qw965b.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=772&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Noble false widows are prolific breeders.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">John Dunbar</span>, <span class="license">Author provided</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Noble false widow spiders are close cousins of “true” black widows and share roughly the same arsenal of toxins in their venom. This includes a group of neurotoxins called latrotoxins that are particularly lethal to small animals with backbones. </p>
<p>These proteins bind to nerve endings and disrupt the messages they send, causing muscles and organs to miss signals from the brain which can lead to paralysis and death. Those who have been bitten by noble false widows can testify to how painful a bite can be, sometimes requiring <a href="https://doi.org/10.1080/15563650.2021.1928165">medical attention</a>.</p>
<p>Their venom, which is up to 125-times more potent than the <a href="https://www.wildlifetrusts.org/wildlife-explorer/invertebrates/spiders/giant-house-spider">giant house spider</a> (<em>Eratigena atrica</em>), has proved instrumental in their spread, as they can often turn native spiders into <a href="https://www.mdpi.com/2072-6651/14/9/587">their next meal</a>.</p>
<p>The noble false widow can generally eat whatever’s available, including woodlice, flies, centipedes, wasps and bees. But most striking is their ability to prey on animals significantly larger than themselves: lizards, bats and shrews have all been recorded as part of their diet. </p>
<p>To accomplish such feats, false widows set silk strings loaded like springs attached to surfaces. When a prey brushes against these threads, it triggers the booby trap and the animal is lifted off the ground. The spider can then release other threads and hoist the prey with exceptional ease using its silk threads like a pulley system. </p>
<p>Once the prey is immobilised with silk, it paralyses them with a venomous bite. The spider expels digestive enzymes into it and sucks back the broth of softened flesh and digestive juices.</p>
<h2>A byproduct of globalisation</h2>
<p>Albeit fascinating, the noble false widow could damage ecosystems by displacing native spiders and preying on animals that never evolved to avoid or defend themselves against them. As such, they should be treated like any other invasive species. </p>
<p>In the US between 1960 and 2020, biological invasions were estimated to cost approximately <a href="https://doi.org/10.1016/j.scitotenv.2021.151318">US$1.22 trillion</a> (£1.02 trillion). </p>
<p>Acclimatisation societies in the 19th and 20th centuries introduced rabbits in Australia, possums in New Zealand and European starlings on four continents, all with devastating ecological consequences. These voluntary associations did so in the hope that these non-native species would adapt to their new environments.</p>
<p>Acclimatisation societies are long gone, but the constant movement of people and commodities has increased the risk of biological invasions in the 21st century. The phenomenal spread of the noble false widow is a byproduct of this process of globalisation. </p>
<p>We now have to learn to live alongside them – and do our best to monitor their toll on native wildlife.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/199935/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>John Dunbar is a recipient of the Irish Research Council Government of Ireland Postdoctoral Fellowship GOIPD/2021/358. </span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>Michel Dugon does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>Once confined to the Canary Islands, noble false widow spiders are casting their web worldwide.Michel Dugon, Head of the Venom System Lab, University of GalwayJohn Dunbar, Postdoctoral Research Fellow, Venom Systems Lab, University of GalwayLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1954502023-01-05T20:35:53Z2023-01-05T20:35:53ZInsects and spiders make up more than half NZ’s animal biodiversity – time to celebrate these spineless creatures<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/500255/original/file-20221212-94530-zy3c8o.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=57%2C101%2C4770%2C2591&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">
</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Shutterstock/PEnsell Photography</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>After almost two decades of championing native birds in an <a href="https://www.birdoftheyear.org.nz/">annual competition</a>, Aotearoa is going to begin celebrating its spineless creatures this year.</p>
<p>New Zealand is home to more than 20,000 species of insects and spiders, representing well <a href="https://cpb-ap-se2.wpmucdn.com/blogs.auckland.ac.nz/dist/f/688/files/2021/10/Intern-report-Jono-Sept-2021-final.pdf">over half of all animal diversity</a>. Many are endemic, which means they have no other home on Earth. </p>
<p>Like Aotearoa’s birds, native invertebrates have evolved largely without mammals and have filled many ecological niches taken up by mammals elsewhere. The <a href="https://ento.org.nz/">Entomological Society of New Zealand</a> has launched a <a href="https://bugoftheyear.ento.org.nz/">Bug of the Year competition</a> to introduce their wonderful diversity.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="A montage of many different insects" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/499453/original/file-20221207-12-vvx7ya.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/499453/original/file-20221207-12-vvx7ya.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=278&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/499453/original/file-20221207-12-vvx7ya.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=278&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/499453/original/file-20221207-12-vvx7ya.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=278&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/499453/original/file-20221207-12-vvx7ya.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=349&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/499453/original/file-20221207-12-vvx7ya.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=349&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/499453/original/file-20221207-12-vvx7ya.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=349&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">New Zealand is home to thousands of native insects and spiders, many found nowhere else.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Author provided</span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/">CC BY-SA</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The competition also promotes the power of citizen science through <a href="https://inaturalist.nz">iNaturalistNZ</a> to encourage New Zealanders to contribute simply by posting images of the critters they see flying or crawling around in their own backyards or around Aotearoa, whether that’s on the beach, the farm or during an epic tramp up to a mountain peak. </p>
<p>Scientists can use the data from these observations to learn more about the patterns, population sizes and ecology of our unique and sometimes threatened native bugs or new arrivals that might become pests.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/they-might-not-have-a-spine-but-invertebrates-are-the-backbone-of-our-ecosystems-lets-help-them-out-193447">They might not have a spine, but invertebrates are the backbone of our ecosystems. Let's help them out</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>No life on Earth without invertebrates</h2>
<p>Invertebrates are central to the <a href="https://www.nature.com/articles/s41467-018-07916-1">functioning of ecosystems</a>. They are pollinators and decomposers, they aerate soils and control pests while also becoming food for other wildlife. But they remain understudied and underappreciated. </p>
<figure class="align-right zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/499463/original/file-20221207-21-1zqfj8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="A close-up image of a vagrant spider." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/499463/original/file-20221207-21-1zqfj8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/499463/original/file-20221207-21-1zqfj8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=594&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/499463/original/file-20221207-21-1zqfj8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=594&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/499463/original/file-20221207-21-1zqfj8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=594&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/499463/original/file-20221207-21-1zqfj8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=747&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/499463/original/file-20221207-21-1zqfj8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=747&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/499463/original/file-20221207-21-1zqfj8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=747&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Vagrant spiders are active hunters, often found under logs or stones.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Jenny Jandt/iNaturalist observation 79210413</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The spider in your pantry might give you a fright, but you may not realise that she’s been eating tiny flies and pantry pests. You might have swatted at her or moved her outside where you think she’d be happier. But she was doing just fine in your pantry, and she was doing you a service, too. </p>
<p>New Zealand is home to two species of venomus spiders: the endemic katipō spider <a href="https://inaturalist.nz/taxa/391391-Latrodectus-katipo">(<em>Latrodectus katipo</em>)</a> and the Australian redback spider <a href="https://inaturalist.nz/taxa/146765-Latrodectus-hasselti">(<em>Latrodectus hasselti</em>)</a>. The odds of finding a venomous spider in a New Zealand home are low, but it’s always good to learn what it is before you swat or relocate. </p>
<figure class="align-right zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/499684/original/file-20221208-16-vrjxdz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Close-up on a wolf spider." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/499684/original/file-20221208-16-vrjxdz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/499684/original/file-20221208-16-vrjxdz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=600&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/499684/original/file-20221208-16-vrjxdz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=600&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/499684/original/file-20221208-16-vrjxdz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=600&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/499684/original/file-20221208-16-vrjxdz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=754&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/499684/original/file-20221208-16-vrjxdz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=754&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/499684/original/file-20221208-16-vrjxdz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=754&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Female wolf spiders (<em>Anoteropsis hilaris</em>) weave their eggs in a ball of silk and keep it close to them until the young hatch.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Jenny Jandt/iNaturalist observation 66285476</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The invertebrates in the garden – worms, millipedes, spiders – that scuttle towards you when you dig a hole to plant some flowers might be equally scary. But these critters were perfectly happy in that spot before you came along. And they’ll settle in once more after you get your flowers in place. </p>
<p>The worms will dive back into the soil, fertilising and aerating it to give your plant’s roots a good habitat for growth. The spiders and ants are hunting around for the little bugs that want to eat the flowers you just planted. </p>
<p>If you dig in your ground and find creepy crawlies aplenty, congratulations! You have some fertile soil and your plants will appreciate these tenants that help them get established. </p>
<figure class="align-left zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/499470/original/file-20221207-22-52jcyx.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Flies settling on chicken poo." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/499470/original/file-20221207-22-52jcyx.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/499470/original/file-20221207-22-52jcyx.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=599&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/499470/original/file-20221207-22-52jcyx.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=599&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/499470/original/file-20221207-22-52jcyx.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=599&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/499470/original/file-20221207-22-52jcyx.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=753&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/499470/original/file-20221207-22-52jcyx.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=753&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/499470/original/file-20221207-22-52jcyx.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=753&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">This group of <em>Calliphoria vicina</em> are feeding on some chicken poop.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Jenny Jandt/iNaturalist observation 97721605</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Flies and wasps landing on your food or drink are annoying. Always check inside the bottle before sipping, as wasps and some fruit flies are attracted to the scent of fermenting fruit. This is the cue they use to find over-ripened fruits in your garden and they’ll help you clean them up. </p>
<p>Some flies feed on and/or lay their eggs in chicken or cat poo. While that seems gross, those flies and the larvae that hatch from the eggs are going to clean up that mess. </p>
<p>Meanwhile, big wasps are hunting the pest bugs that are chewing on broccoli and cabbage leaves in your garden, while tiny wasps are looking for aphids and other critters to lay their eggs inside. A lot of these tiny wasps (parasitoid wasps) have been introduced to Aotearoa specifically to <a href="https://b3.net.nz/bcanz/index.php">target some of our agricultural pest species</a>. </p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/scientists-need-help-to-save-nature-with-a-smartphone-and-these-8-tips-we-can-get-our-kids-on-the-case-192622">Scientists need help to save nature. With a smartphone and these 8 tips, we can get our kids on the case</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<figure class="align-right zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/499474/original/file-20221207-3971-m9nrk4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="A hover fly foraging on strawberry blossoms." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/499474/original/file-20221207-3971-m9nrk4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/499474/original/file-20221207-3971-m9nrk4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=601&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/499474/original/file-20221207-3971-m9nrk4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=601&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/499474/original/file-20221207-3971-m9nrk4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=601&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/499474/original/file-20221207-3971-m9nrk4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=755&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/499474/original/file-20221207-3971-m9nrk4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=755&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/499474/original/file-20221207-3971-m9nrk4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=755&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Hover flies (also called flower flies or bee flies), seen here foraging on a strawberry flower, are often mistaken for bees.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Jenny Jandt/iNaturalist observation 143389969</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>We have come to appreciate bees and butterflies for their pollination efforts. But other insects can pollinate, too. For example, there are <a href="https://www.mapress.com/zootaxa/2008/f/zt01716p020.pdf">37 endemic species of hoverfly</a> in Aotearoa – and even more that have not been described yet. They are often mistaken for bees as they boast yellow and black stripes and are usually seen on flowers. Beetles, wasps and other flies can also be important pollinators for certain flowers and crops. </p>
<figure class="align-left zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/499475/original/file-20221207-4529-c8k11w.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/499475/original/file-20221207-4529-c8k11w.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/499475/original/file-20221207-4529-c8k11w.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=600&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/499475/original/file-20221207-4529-c8k11w.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=600&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/499475/original/file-20221207-4529-c8k11w.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=600&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/499475/original/file-20221207-4529-c8k11w.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=755&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/499475/original/file-20221207-4529-c8k11w.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=755&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/499475/original/file-20221207-4529-c8k11w.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=755&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Native bees are often mistaken for small flies.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Jenny Jandt/iNaturalist observation 94890356</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Most people recognise the introduced bumble bees and honey bees, but New Zealand’s <a href="https://www.fortheloveofbees.co.nz/native-bees">28 native species of bee</a> (ngaro huruhuru) are often mistaken for small flies. Ngaro huruhuru are tiny, often black or metallic green and mostly solitary. Some nest in groups where each excavates a hole in a clay bank or undisturbed patch of soil to raise their young. </p>
<p>Social bumble bees and honey bees can outnumber solitary bees significantly. Ngaro huruhuru prefer small, open aster-like flowers, many of which we tend to think of as weeds. Dandelions, daisies and ragwort are the most common flowers to find foraging native bees. Ragwort is also attractive to flies and butterflies. </p>
<figure class="align-right ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/499476/original/file-20221207-24-j4059x.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/499476/original/file-20221207-24-j4059x.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=600&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/499476/original/file-20221207-24-j4059x.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=600&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/499476/original/file-20221207-24-j4059x.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=600&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/499476/original/file-20221207-24-j4059x.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=755&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/499476/original/file-20221207-24-j4059x.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=755&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/499476/original/file-20221207-24-j4059x.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=755&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The endemic red admiral (kahukura, <em>Vanessa gonerilla gonerilla</em>) needs stinging nettles to lay its eggs.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Jenny Jandt/iNaturalist observation 110643854</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Butterflies can look like little fluttering rainbows, adding colour and life to the garden. As adults, they can be important pollinators of flowering plants. However, their larvae (caterpillars) need a host plant. For example, the New Zealand red admiral (kahukura) relies on the native stinging tree nettle (ongaonga), but this is often considered a weed and removed from gardens. This limits opportunities for these beautiful butterflies to reproduce, leading to severe population declines in some regions of the country. </p>
<p>The next time you’re in your garden, take a minute to consider the insects and invertebrates occupying the spaces on, under and inside your plants. Post photos on <a href="https://inaturalist.nz/">iNaturalistNZ</a> to learn more about them and be sure to check out this year’s 24 nominees for <a href="https://bugoftheyear.ento.org.nz/">Bug of the Year 2023</a> competition. Voting closes on February 13.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/195450/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Jennifer Jandt is affiliated with the Entomological Society of New Zealand, a member of the Bug of the Year Committee, and is Editor-in-Chief of the New Zealand Entomologist. </span></em></p>There would be no life on Earth without invertebrates, but they are understudied and underappreciated. The Bug of the Year competition aims to change that, so have your say and vote!Jennifer Jandt, Senior Lecturer in Ecology, University of OtagoLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1960352022-12-20T00:20:13Z2022-12-20T00:20:13ZArtist Tomás Saraceno wants to improve our knowledge about atmospheres – and arachnids<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/501783/original/file-20221219-13-is3nbf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=29%2C9%2C6544%2C4366&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">How to entangle the universe in a spider/web?, 2022, Tomás Saraceno. Courtesy the artist with thanks to Arachnophilia, neugerriemschneider, Berlin and Tanya Bonakdar Gallery, New York / Los Angeles.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Photo Credit: Mona/Jesse Hunniford Image Courtesy Studio Tomás Saraceno and MONA Museum of Old and New Art, Hobart, Tasmania, Australia</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>In Oceans of Air, the new exhibition at Hobart’s Mona, artist Tomás Saraceno imagines a future where humans become as sensitive to the environment as a spider in its web. He invites visitors to become participants in his multiple networks and projects. He aims to make us aware of our interconnections with each other and the world. </p>
<p>Held in the underground labyrinthine galleries of Mona, we are invited to reconsider the boundaries between natural and cultural worlds. </p>
<p>As we descend through Mona’s central staircases, the reflective sculptural orbs Aerocene 4 and 5 weave Mona’s architecture and collections into the Saraceno world. Stairs and artworks twist and turn in the reflections. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/501759/original/file-20221219-25-j9r7xh.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=30%2C10%2C6679%2C4456&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/501759/original/file-20221219-25-j9r7xh.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=30%2C10%2C6679%2C4456&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/501759/original/file-20221219-25-j9r7xh.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/501759/original/file-20221219-25-j9r7xh.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/501759/original/file-20221219-25-j9r7xh.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/501759/original/file-20221219-25-j9r7xh.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/501759/original/file-20221219-25-j9r7xh.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/501759/original/file-20221219-25-j9r7xh.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Aerocene 2.5, 4, and 5, 2018, Tomás Saraceno Courtesy the artist with the Aerocene Foundation, neugerriemschneider, Berlin and Tanya Bonakdar Gallery, New York / Los Angeles.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Photo Credit: Mona/Jesse Hunniford Image Courtesy Studio Tomás Saraceno and MONA Museum of Old and New Art, Hobart, Tasmania, Australia</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Reminiscent of Escher’s <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Relativity_(M._C._Escher)">1923 Relativity lithograph</a>, the laws of gravity are confounded. The binding on the balloons could be tethering them to the building or preventing their fall, like eggs in a spider web.</p>
<p>Before entering the dark subterranean galleries, a photograph shows Saraceno floating below a fuel-free hot air balloon on the boundary between earth and sky. </p>
<h2>A multi-sensory experience</h2>
<p>Argentinean Tomás Saraceno is a Berlin-based artist, interested in collaborations with research institutes to further our collective knowledge around atmospheres and arachnids.</p>
<p>Submerging into dark gallery spaces may seem a strange phenomenon for an exhibition titled Oceans of Air, however Saraceno and Mona curators Emma Pike and Olivier Varenne have carefully orchestrated the experience. They play with beams of light and the twisting turns of the galleries to make participants slow down and engage in a multi-sensory experience.</p>
<p>Within one darkened room, we encounter Particular Matter(s), 2021, a single light beam travelling across space, landing as a moon formation on the felted wall. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/501775/original/file-20221219-14-nzzq9p.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/501775/original/file-20221219-14-nzzq9p.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/501775/original/file-20221219-14-nzzq9p.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/501775/original/file-20221219-14-nzzq9p.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/501775/original/file-20221219-14-nzzq9p.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/501775/original/file-20221219-14-nzzq9p.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/501775/original/file-20221219-14-nzzq9p.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/501775/original/file-20221219-14-nzzq9p.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Particular Matter(s), 2021, Tomás Saraceno. Courtesy the artist, neugerriemschneider, Berlin and Tanya Bonakdar Gallery, New York / Los Angeles.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Photo Credit: Mona/Jesse Hunniford Image Courtesy Studio Tomás Saraceno and MONA Museum of Old and New Art, Hobart, Tasmania, Australia</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Floating in this light beam (according to the guide), is cosmic dust, PM2.5 (particulate matter), stellar wind, air movement, kinaesthetic feedback and sonic waves. </p>
<p>In other words: the dust and atmospheric conditions present in the gallery today. </p>
<p>Adjacent is a photograph, NORAD 40983 (2015-059B), 2016 displaying the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Large_Magellanic_Cloud">Large Magellanic Cloud</a>, one of the closest galaxies to our own Milky Way, with a line revealing the trail of a satellite. Saraceno encountered this image when visiting Bolivia’s <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Salar_de_Uyuni">Salar de Uyuni</a>, the world’s largest salt pan. </p>
<p>Here, the sky is reflected on a large salt flat. We become suspended in space, our bodies becoming insignificant matter. Standing between this photograph and the salt covered ground, we shift from godlike creatures scattering particles with our movements to an insignificant speck in the galaxy.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/an-expanding-universe-and-distant-stars-tips-on-how-to-experience-cosmology-from-your-backyard-90105">An expanding universe and distant stars: tips on how to experience cosmology from your backyard</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>Fleetingly visible</h2>
<p>The images in We Do Not All Breathe the Same Air are presented in the format of moon charts revealing the natural rhythms of the solar system. </p>
<p>But instead of charting our solar system, these digital prints capture samples of air pollution collected from each state of Australia. The traces of pollutants are a physical reminder of what is invisible in this part of the world, but painfully obvious in cities like Mumbai. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/501781/original/file-20221219-25-86sbgm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/501781/original/file-20221219-25-86sbgm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/501781/original/file-20221219-25-86sbgm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/501781/original/file-20221219-25-86sbgm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/501781/original/file-20221219-25-86sbgm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/501781/original/file-20221219-25-86sbgm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/501781/original/file-20221219-25-86sbgm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/501781/original/file-20221219-25-86sbgm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">We Do Not All Breathe the Same Air, 2022, Tomás Saraceno. Courtesy the artist, neugerriemschneider, Berlin and Tanya Bonakdar Gallery, New York / Los Angeles.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Photo Credit: Mona/Jesse Hunniford Image Courtesy Studio Tomás Saraceno and MONA Museum of Old and New Art, Hobart, Tasmania, Australia</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Printed Matter(s) are exquisite images of cosmic dust invisible to the naked eye that surround us. They are printed with black carbon PM2.5 pollution extracted from the air in Mumbai on featherlight handmade paper. </p>
<p>Distantly spotlit, the images shift in and out of focus in response to currents of air. The invisible is made fleetingly visible, the insubstantial paper accentuating what is held in currents of air.</p>
<p>In Webs of At-tent(s)ion, 2022, Saraceno convincingly lays claim to the cultural activity of the “<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t_2B5lyNt_o">More Than Human World</a>”: a phrase coined by the ecologist and philosopher David Abrams to include humans within a broader understanding of the natural world.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/501777/original/file-20221219-21-pq96ta.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/501777/original/file-20221219-21-pq96ta.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/501777/original/file-20221219-21-pq96ta.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/501777/original/file-20221219-21-pq96ta.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/501777/original/file-20221219-21-pq96ta.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/501777/original/file-20221219-21-pq96ta.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/501777/original/file-20221219-21-pq96ta.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/501777/original/file-20221219-21-pq96ta.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Webs of At-tent(s)ion, 2022, Tomás Saraceno. Courtesy the artist with Arachnophilia, neugerriemschneider, Berlin and Tanya Bonakdar Gallery, New York / Los Angeles Photo Credit: Tomás Saraceno.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Image Courtesy Studio Tomás Saraceno and MONA Museum of Old and New Art, Hobart, Tasmania, Australia</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>We are presented with glass and metal frames containing exquisite spider web architectures. The constellations of webs were made from spiders invited by a thread to weave within the carbon-fibre frames provided in the space of the studio.</p>
<p>The resilience of the fully formed webs when preserved in glass boxes is made testament through surviving shipping from Saraceno’s Berlin studio. </p>
<p>These intricate universes are spotlit in the darkened gallery. Walking around these forms in the gallery reveals innovations in materials and forms undreamed of by humans.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/explainer-what-are-the-environmental-humanities-20040">Explainer: what are the environmental humanities?
</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>New ways of being</h2>
<p>The video Living at the bottom of the ocean of air takes us into the life of the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Diving_bell_spider">diving bell spider</a> who gathers a bubble of air to live under the surface of water. It is in keeping with the sensation of being in the subterranean depths of Mona where air has been trapped and circulated for our survival. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/501774/original/file-20221219-11363-60ep0w.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/501774/original/file-20221219-11363-60ep0w.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/501774/original/file-20221219-11363-60ep0w.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/501774/original/file-20221219-11363-60ep0w.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/501774/original/file-20221219-11363-60ep0w.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/501774/original/file-20221219-11363-60ep0w.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/501774/original/file-20221219-11363-60ep0w.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/501774/original/file-20221219-11363-60ep0w.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Living at the bottom of the ocean of air, 2018, Tomás Saraceno, Courtesy the artist and Andersen’s, Copenhagen; Ruth Benzacar, Buenos Aires; Tanya Bonakdar Gallery, New York/Los Angeles; Pinksummer Contemporary Art, Genoa; neugerriemschneider, Berlin.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Photo Credit: Mona/Jesse Hunniford Image Courtesy Studio Tomás Saraceno and MONA Museum of Old and New Art, Hobart, Tasmania, Australia</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>In the many rooms, we begin to realise the networks Saraceno has set up. He is weaving interconnections around the world using human technology to question itself, ask new questions and imagine new ways of being in the world.</p>
<p>Nearing the end of the exhibits we encounter Sounding the Air, 2022, which has threads of spider silk suspended between poles, inspired by <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ballooning_(spider)">ballooning</a> – where some spiders release threads to take flight on currents of air. As the threads here drift in the air, their physical undulations are translated by video into sound. </p>
<p>As we exit the exhibition and once again encounter the silver orbs floating in the Mona staircases, we connect again with Saraceno’s invitation to become explorers in sympathy with the rhythms of the earth.</p>
<hr>
<p><em>Tomás Saraceno: Oceans of Air is at Mona, Hobart, until July 24.</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/196035/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Jan Hogan does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>This new exhibition at Hobart’s Mona captures Tomás Saraceno’s collaborations with research institutes.Jan Hogan, Senior lecturer, School of Creative Arts & Media, University of TasmaniaLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1934472022-11-23T00:10:19Z2022-11-23T00:10:19ZThey might not have a spine, but invertebrates are the backbone of our ecosystems. Let’s help them out<p>Many of Australia’s natural places are in a poor state. While important work is being done to protect particular species, we must also take a broader approach to returning entire ecosystems to their <a href="https://www.science.org/doi/full/10.1126/science.aav5570">former glory</a> – a strategy known as “rewilding”. </p>
<p>Rewilding aims to <a href="https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S0169534716000628">restore</a> the complex interactions that make up a functioning ecosystem. It involves reintroducing long-lost plants and animals to both conserve those species and restore an area’s natural processes.</p>
<p>You might imagine this involves an ecologist releasing cute, furry bilbies, or an endangered songbird. This is a logical assumption. Research <a href="https://www.cambridge.org/core/journals/oryx/article/bias-and-dispersal-in-the-animal-reintroduction-literature/BAB3FC3B2FE61B60CDC4273373624569">shows</a> a marked bias in reintroduction programs towards vertebrates, especially birds and mammals. </p>
<p>Meanwhile, invertebrates are often overlooked. But <a href="https://esajournals.onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/10.1002/eap.2779">our new research</a> shows rewilding with invertebrates – insects, worms, spiders and the like – can go a long way in bringing our degraded landscapes back to life.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="spider in web in front of tree" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/496877/original/file-20221122-18-aq9k9d.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/496877/original/file-20221122-18-aq9k9d.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/496877/original/file-20221122-18-aq9k9d.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/496877/original/file-20221122-18-aq9k9d.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/496877/original/file-20221122-18-aq9k9d.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/496877/original/file-20221122-18-aq9k9d.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/496877/original/file-20221122-18-aq9k9d.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Invertebrates are crucial to functioning ecosystems.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Shutterstock</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>A shocking decline</h2>
<p>Invertebrates <a href="https://www.science.org/doi/abs/10.1126/science.241.4872.1441">make up 97% of animal life</a> and drive key processes such as pollination and cycling nutrients. But they’re the focus of <a href="https://www.cambridge.org/core/journals/oryx/article/bias-and-dispersal-in-the-animal-reintroduction-literature/BAB3FC3B2FE61B60CDC4273373624569">just 3%</a> of reintroduction projects.</p>
<p>This reflects a <a href="https://www.science.org/doi/full/10.1126/science.297.5579.191b">taxonomic bias</a> in conservation. Overseas, this has led to rewilding projects centred on <a href="https://www.pnas.org/doi/full/10.1073/pnas.1502556112">large keystone mammals</a> that alter ecosystems on a broad scale, such as wolves and bison. </p>
<p>Of course, traditional vertebrate rewilding projects are very important for ecosystem restoration. In Australia, for example, they are <a href="https://conbio.onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/full/10.1111/cobi.13280">vital in restoring mammal communities</a> decimated by cats and foxes. </p>
<p>But invertebrate species are <a href="https://www.science.org/doi/full/10.1126/science.aax9931">declining at shocking rates</a> around the world, especially as climate change <a href="https://www.pnas.org/doi/10.1073/pnas.2002543117">worsens</a>. They also need our help to re-colonise new areas.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/how-the-humble-dung-beetle-engineers-better-ecosystems-in-australia-101975">How the humble dung beetle engineers better ecosystems in Australia</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="man and child look on as woman releases bilby" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/496879/original/file-20221122-16-7k8rr1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/496879/original/file-20221122-16-7k8rr1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/496879/original/file-20221122-16-7k8rr1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/496879/original/file-20221122-16-7k8rr1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/496879/original/file-20221122-16-7k8rr1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/496879/original/file-20221122-16-7k8rr1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/496879/original/file-20221122-16-7k8rr1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Mammal rewilding projects are very important for ecosystem restoration, but invertebrates need help too.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Bobby-Jo Photography/AAP</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>No beetle is an island</h2>
<p>Picture an island in the middle of the ocean. The further from shore it is, the more animals on the mainland will struggle to reach it – especially if they’re tiny and wingless, like many invertebrates.</p>
<p>My colleagues and I built our study around this analogy. </p>
<p>Instead of islands, our research involved six isolated patches of revegetated land on farms. And instead of an ocean, invertebrates had to cross a sea of pasture which, for many litter-dwelling invertebrates, is a barren, <a href="https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/full/10.1111/btp.12682">unsheltered wasteland</a>.</p>
<p>The farm sites were “biologically poor”. That is, despite the habitat quality improving following revegetation, they contained lower-than-expected invertebrate biodiversity. </p>
<p>We surmised that invertebrates from surrounding “biologically rich” national parks were struggling to reach and recolonise the isolated revegetation patches. </p>
<p>Our study involved giving invertebrates a hand to find new homes. We moved leaf litter – and more than 300 invertebrates species hiding in it – from national park sites into six revegetated farm sites in central Victoria. </p>
<p>We moved litter samples several times between 2018 and 2020, over different seasons. Sites were “paired”, so a national park site was paired with a revegetated one that would have been similar had degradation had not occurred.</p>
<p>The litter community of invertebrates is incredibly complex and can be broken into three groups: macroinvertebrates (more than 5 mm), mesoinvertebrates (less than 5 mm) and microbes. We focused on mesoinvertebrates, which mostly comprise mites, ticks, ants, beetles and springtails (small, wingless arthropods).</p>
<p>We found among this group, beetles were most likely to survive and thrive in their new habitat, which was much drier than the one they left. Rove beetles did particularly well. </p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="red and black beetle on leaf" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/496880/original/file-20221122-18-oaiosp.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/496880/original/file-20221122-18-oaiosp.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/496880/original/file-20221122-18-oaiosp.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/496880/original/file-20221122-18-oaiosp.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/496880/original/file-20221122-18-oaiosp.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/496880/original/file-20221122-18-oaiosp.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/496880/original/file-20221122-18-oaiosp.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Numbers of beetles – particularly the rove beetle, pictured – bounced back quickly after being moved.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Shutterstock</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Beetles are hardy little things with <a href="https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/full/10.1111/mec.14418">strong exoskeletons</a> that protect them from drying out. In fact, as early as seven months after being moved, beetle numbers at the new sites reached levels similar to that in pristine national parks that we sourced leaf litter from.</p>
<p>We did not have the same success with other types of invertebrates. For example, springtails are a massive component of leaf litter communities in national parks. But they’re soft-bodied and dry out easily, so were more likely to die when moved to a new, drier environment. </p>
<p>Understanding why some groups are more likely to survive leaf litter transplants than others
is a vital step in the development of invertebrate rewilding. Nonetheless, our results show the relatively simple act of moving leaf litter can lead to comparatively large increases in species richness in a short time. </p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/photos-from-the-field-zooming-in-on-australias-hidden-world-of-exquisite-mites-snails-and-beetles-147576">Photos from the field: zooming in on Australia's hidden world of exquisite mites, snails and beetles</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
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<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="ant in leaf litter" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/496881/original/file-20221122-24-rw8qpa.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/496881/original/file-20221122-24-rw8qpa.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/496881/original/file-20221122-24-rw8qpa.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/496881/original/file-20221122-24-rw8qpa.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/496881/original/file-20221122-24-rw8qpa.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/496881/original/file-20221122-24-rw8qpa.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/496881/original/file-20221122-24-rw8qpa.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Moving leaf litter can quickly lead to comparatively large increases in species richness .</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Shutterstock</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Loving our creepy crawlies</h2>
<p><a href="https://esajournals.onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/10.1002/eap.2779">Our study showed</a> how a simple method of rewilding with invertebrates can effectively reintroduce multiple species at once. This is an important finding.</p>
<p>More research into the method is needed across different types of sites and over longer timeframes. However, our method has the potential to be <a href="https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S0006320715300847">applied widely</a> in the fight against global invertebrate declines.</p>
<p>The method is cheap and easy. In contrast, rewilding projects involving vertebrates can be hard to execute and <a href="https://www.researchgate.net/profile/John-Kanowski/publication/329403751_Effective_conservation_of_critical_weight_range_mammals_reintroduction_projects_of_the_Australian_Wildlife_Conservancy/links/60becc2092851cb13d88cd21/Effective-conservation-of-critical-weight-range-mammals-reintroduction-projects-of-the-Australian-Wildlife-Conservancy.pdf">expensive</a>, and often require breeding animals for release.</p>
<p>Invertebrates are the bulk of terrestrial diversity and the <a href="https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/full/10.1111/brv.12002">backbone</a> for proper ecosystem functioning. We need to start putting them at the centre of rewilding projects.</p>
<p>Our results are just one <a href="https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S0006320711002874">small piece in the puzzle</a>. Many <a href="https://www.science.org/doi/full/10.1126/science.aax9931">other invertebrate communities</a> will need safeguarding and restoring in the future. </p>
<p>Recent <a href="https://www.mdpi.com/2076-2615/12/14/1787">research</a> has challenged the assumption that humans naturally find vertebrates more engaging than invertebrates. We might be pleasantly surprised to find the public is as engaged with invertebrate rewilding projects as those focused on cute and cuddly critters.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/earth-harbours-20-000-000-000-000-000-ants-and-they-weigh-more-than-wild-birds-and-mammals-combined-190831">Earth harbours 20,000,000,000,000,000 ants – and they weigh more than wild birds and mammals combined</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/193447/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Peter Contos receives funding from the Ecological Society of Australia. </span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>Heloise Gibb receives funding from the Hermon Slade Foundation and the Australian Research Council</span></em></p>New research shows rewilding with invertebrates – insects, worms, spiders and the like – can go a long way in bringing our degraded landscapes back to life.Peter Contos, PhD Candidate, La Trobe UniversityHeloise Gibb, Professor, La Trobe UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1795072022-04-06T05:32:48Z2022-04-06T05:32:48ZThe spider that looks like bird poo – and other amazing (and gross) tricks animals deploy to survive<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/456517/original/file-20220406-14-eau0by.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=6%2C0%2C2038%2C1459&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">
</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Flickr</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Animals do all sorts of disgusting things. While these gross behaviours might turn our stomachs, they’re often crucial to an animal’s survival.</p>
<p>I and my colleague Nic Gill have done the dirty work, and collected a bunch of unexpected facts about how these behaviours help animals live their best lives:
making a home, finding mates and food, and surviving predators. </p>
<p>Our <a href="https://www.publish.csiro.au/book/8021/">new</a> book – titled <em>Poo, Spew and other Gross Things Animals Do</em> – is aimed at kids, but much of it will be news to adults, too.</p>
<p>So what does it take to survive and thrive in the wild? It’s not always about being the biggest and fiercest. Many animals have evolved much more entertaining – if not impolite – strategies for evolutionary success. </p>
<h2>Grossness in love (and self-defence)</h2>
<p>For wild animals, finding a mate is no laughing matter. But the lengths to which some animals will go to obtain one can be. </p>
<p>Female lobsters wee on their potential mates’ face for an invitation into their lairs. Even stranger, a lobster’s bladder sits below their brain – so the wee <a href="https://www.journals.uchicago.edu/doi/10.1086/BBLv185n2p319">squirts from</a> their face.</p>
<p>Hippopotamuses, meanwhile, have become YouTube sensations for their rather unpleasant “dung showering” behaviour. Hippos spin their stumpy tails to propel a mixture of wee and poo up to ten metres – using the technique to <a href="https://www.cell.com/current-biology/fulltext/S0960-9822(21)01693-6">mark their territory</a>. </p>
<p>Hippos have also been observed flinging poo directly into their love interests’ face during courtship.</p>
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<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/V7_gUS-60Xo?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
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<p>Living in the wild can be tough. Unless you’re a top predator, something, somewhere nearby, probably wants to eat you. </p>
<p>Some animals are fast enough to run away from predators – or, like echidnas, protect themselves with armour. </p>
<p>Others have developed more revolting survival strategies. Sperm whales for example, are known to defecate into the water “<a href="https://www.bbc.com/news/newsbeat-30958073">for a startling length of time</a>” . This creates a “<a href="https://au.whales.org/2015/01/23/sperm-whale-poo-nado-murky-waters-but-clear-signal/">poo-nado</a>” – a cloud of excrement that conceals them from perceived attackers (or unlucky snorkelers!). </p>
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<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/ZcQI9VNONgg?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
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<p>And some spiders have taken advantage of the fact that birds, unlike some other animals, don’t like to eat their own excrement. </p>
<p>As its name suggests, the <a href="https://australian.museum/learn/animals/spiders/bird-dropping-spider/">bird-dropping spider</a> has evolved to protect itself from bird predators by looking like bird poo.</p>
<p>The spider bears a black, brown and white colour pattern and a squat shape. It sits still on leaves and other exposed locations during the day, tricking predators into assuming its a blob of poo.</p>
<p>But if there was a competition for most repulsive yet effective self-defence mechanisms, it would go to <a href="https://royalsocietypublishing.org/doi/full/10.1098/rsbl.2012.0124?rss=1">Eurasian roller chicks</a>. </p>
<p>When frightened, these baby birds spew a foul-smelling orange liquid all over their aggressor, and themselves. This not only deters the predator, it warns the birds’ parents of danger around. Vomit as as emergency beacon – who knew? </p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/physics-of-poo-why-it-takes-you-and-an-elephant-the-same-amount-of-time-76696">Physics of poo: Why it takes you and an elephant the same amount of time</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
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<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="bird flies to chick in tree" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/456518/original/file-20220406-20-nqfjeq.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/456518/original/file-20220406-20-nqfjeq.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/456518/original/file-20220406-20-nqfjeq.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/456518/original/file-20220406-20-nqfjeq.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/456518/original/file-20220406-20-nqfjeq.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=502&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/456518/original/file-20220406-20-nqfjeq.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=502&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/456518/original/file-20220406-20-nqfjeq.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=502&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Eurasian roller chicks have a unique way of warning their parents of danger.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Shutterstock</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Poo detectives</h2>
<p>Scats (poo) and reject-pellets (spew) contain a surprising wealth of <a href="https://theconversation.com/what-can-you-learn-from-studying-an-animals-scat-126307">information</a> for researchers looking at hard-to-study species.</p>
<p>The presence of poo or spew can help researchers determine where in the landscape a species lives – especially when, like in the case of wombats’ <a href="https://theconversation.com/why-do-wombats-do-cube-shaped-poo-55975">cube-shaped poo</a>, it’s helpfully engineered to not roll away.</p>
<p>Poo and spew can also reveal important information about an animal’s diet, through identification of the bones or genetic material present. Taking this to the next step, info from poo and spew has even been used to describe whole ecosystems. </p>
<p>For example, scientists have used owl spew to <a href="https://www.publish.csiro.au/wr/WR13041">monitor</a> the threatened mammals present where the bird lives. And information on an animal’s disease status and gut microbiome can all be extracted <a href="https://wildlife.onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/abs/10.2193/0022-541X(2005)69%5B1419:NGSTFW%5D2.0.CO;2?casa_token=uNbgwNzo7E4AAAAA:pHwBTGJjHbWqgAPf1zkZ5jXsKPGFyZmSdEWiSIkBVNZKBUr1mD-0KwqioV16x8GDGRjLd2XntinPZ5w">from poo and spew</a>. </p>
<p>These methods also have the benefit of being non-invasive – meaning researchers can check an animal’s health without physically handling it.</p>
<p><a href="https://theconversation.com/koala-detecting-dogs-sniff-out-flaws-in-australias-threatened-species-protection-121118">Conservation dogs</a> are becoming an increasingly popular method of detecting these data-rich, smelly goldmines.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/drones-detection-dogs-poo-spotting-whats-the-best-way-to-conduct-australias-great-koala-count-150634">Drones, detection dogs, poo spotting: what’s the best way to conduct Australia’s Great Koala Count?</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="animal poo on rock" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/456521/original/file-20220406-14-gw7t0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/456521/original/file-20220406-14-gw7t0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/456521/original/file-20220406-14-gw7t0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/456521/original/file-20220406-14-gw7t0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/456521/original/file-20220406-14-gw7t0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/456521/original/file-20220406-14-gw7t0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/456521/original/file-20220406-14-gw7t0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Wombats leave curiously cube-shaped poo.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Shutterstock</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>3 more poo particulars</h2>
<p>Still unconvinced by the power of poo? Consider these facts:</p>
<p><strong>1. Creating white sandy beaches:</strong> Parrot fish have some of the <a href="https://pubs.acs.org/doi/abs/10.1021/acsnano.7b05044">strongest teeth</a> in the animal kingdom, which they use to graze on coral. Their digestive system turns it into fine white sand, meaning parrot fish poo helps create <a href="https://ocean.si.edu/ocean-life/fish/tough-teeth-and-parrotfish-poop">beautiful beach destinations</a></p>
<p><strong>2. Threatening the outdoor dining scene:</strong> In the 1950s, scientists realised native beetles were uninterested in eating poo from introduced cows. This left the country covered in cow poo – a perfect breeding ground for disease-carrying flies.</p>
<p>At one stage, flies were so numerous that outside dining was forbidden to protect public health. Eventually, poo-eating dung beetles were <a href="https://csiropedia.csiro.au/bornemissza-george-francis/">flown in</a> from overseas to solve the problem.</p>
<p><strong>3. Cooling the planet:</strong> Researchers have shown <a href="https://www.smithsonianmag.com/smart-news/how-bird-poop-helps-keep-arctic-cool-180961129/">bird poo</a> can help fight climate change. They discovered that in the Arctic, ammonia produced from tons of seabird poo helps form clouds that can partially block sunlight.</p>
<p>So now you know a little about how grossness makes the animal world go round. Feel free to share these tidbits with your friends – though perhaps not while they’re eating.</p>
<p><em><a href="https://www.publish.csiro.au/book/8021/#:%7E:text=over%20the%20world.-,Take%20a%20deep%20breath%20and%20step%20into%20the%20world%20of,book%20are%20amazing%E2%80%A6%20and%20revolting">Poo, Spew and other Gross Things Animals Do</a> by Nic Gill and Romane Cristescu, illustrated by Rachel Tribout, is published by CSIRO Publishing.</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/179507/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Romane H. Cristescu is one of the author of the book published by CSIRO.</span></em></p>Many animals have evolved very entertaining – if not impolite – strategies for evolutionary success.Romane H Cristescu, Posdoc in Ecology, University of the Sunshine CoastLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1793822022-03-30T13:27:24Z2022-03-30T13:27:24ZTiny tracks tell of ancient paths made by gerbils and spiders on South Africa’s south coast<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/452405/original/file-20220316-15-1lkyogu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Branching gerbil burrows leading to a debris mound preserved on an ancient dune surface.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Charles Helm</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>When large animals like <a href="https://doi.org/10.1017/qua.2021.32">elephants</a>, <a href="http://dx.doi.org/10.17159/sajs.2018/20170266">giraffes</a> and <a href="https://doi.org/10.17159/sajs.2020/6542">crocodiles</a> roamed what is today South Africa’s Cape south coast hundreds of thousands of years ago, they were not alone. Far below their sight lines, tiny creatures like gerbils were forging their own paths across the landscape. </p>
<p>Like their larger counterparts, these small creatures left their marks. Their tracks were preserved in aeolianites – the cemented remains of dune surfaces – and cemented beach deposits. </p>
<p>In a <a href="https://doi.org/10.1017/qua.2021.77">recently published article</a> in Quaternary Research we documented these minute gerbil tracks and traces. We also described an invertebrate trackway, which we attributed to a spider. This work is part of the Cape south coast ichnology project. </p>
<p>Since it started in 2008 our team has identified more than 300 vertebrate tracksites along a 350 km stretch of South Africa’s coastline. They date back to the <a href="https://www.livescience.com/40311-pleistocene-epoch.html">Pleistocene epoch</a>, ranging mostly from 140,000 to about 70,000 years in age. The spider trackway is the first belonging to an invertebrate that the team has described.</p>
<p>There is something near-miraculous in the concept of tiny creatures, weighing just grams, making tracks and traces so long ago, that are now evident in rock, and are recognisable and amenable to our interpretation. </p>
<p>Finding and describing them helps us to reconstruct an ancient environment. This can deepen our understanding of how the landscape has changed over time and how it might change in the coming years as the climate shifts.</p>
<h2>A rare find</h2>
<p>The sites we have documented as part of our project would have been situated at the margin of the vast <a href="https://doi.org/10.1016/j.quascirev.2019.106161">Palaeo-Agulhas Plain</a>, which was alternately exposed and inundated during Pleistocene sea-level oscillations. The fossil tracksites we study provide a census of which creatures trod on the area’s ancient dunes and beaches.</p>
<p>The stretch of coastal cliffs in which these sites were found contains a concentrated zone of tracksites. To date, 80 vertebrate track sites have been identified in this remote area alone. </p>
<p>Several of these have had important paleo-environmental implications – like revealing the previously undocumented presence of <a href="https://doi.org/10.1017/qua.2019.40">hatchling sea-turtles</a>. </p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/first-fossil-trails-of-baby-sea-turtles-found-in-south-africa-122434">First fossil trails of baby sea turtles found in South Africa</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>It’s very unusual for small tracks to be preserved. Larger, heavier animals create larger, deeper tracks, which are easier to identify once Pleistocene palaeosurfaces are re-exposed. Dune and beach sands, being relatively coarse-grained, also do not provide ideal conditions for tracks to be registered and preserved. Good preservation is more likely in finer-grained silty sediments which are relatively rare in rocks along the Cape south coast.</p>
<p>Trackways of small mammals are extremely rare in the global fossil record, previously being known from only two Mesozoic sites (from the Jurassic Period <a href="https://doi.org/10.5281/zenodo.189670">in Patagonia</a> about 165 million years ago) and three Cenozoic sites, from the Miocene Epoch about 15-20 million years ago in Colorado and Utah.</p>
<p>This makes our discovery of gerbil trackways especially exciting. The evidence for gerbils – probably the Cape gerbil, <em><a href="https://www.ewt.org.za/wp-content/uploads/2019/02/17.-Cape-Gerbil-Gerbilliscus-afra_LC.pdf">Gerbilliscus afra</a></em> – included a trackway consisting of 12 pairs of tiny tracks in a typical bounding gait pattern (rather than a walking, running or hopping gait). We also found branching burrows and a characteristic structure resembling a debris mound that gerbils create at the entrance to their burrows and tunnels. </p>
<h2>A tiny trail of tracks</h2>
<p>Close by another site yielded a further unusual and exciting find: an arachnid trackway that extended for a distance of 25 cm. Extant spider groups in the region capable of making such traces include rain spiders and baboon spiders. </p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/452406/original/file-20220316-25-1jxoi6u.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/452406/original/file-20220316-25-1jxoi6u.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=462&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/452406/original/file-20220316-25-1jxoi6u.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=462&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/452406/original/file-20220316-25-1jxoi6u.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=462&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/452406/original/file-20220316-25-1jxoi6u.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=581&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/452406/original/file-20220316-25-1jxoi6u.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=581&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/452406/original/file-20220316-25-1jxoi6u.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=581&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The spider trackway found by the research team. The scale bar is 10 cm.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Charles Helm</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Invertebrate trace fossils are common on Cape south coast Pleistocene palaeosurfaces. But the science of analysing, describing and considering their paleoenvironmental significance is in its infancy. The arachnid trackway illustrates the potential of this field for future study.</p>
<p>Sadly, these sites are ephemeral. Within weeks of being identified the gerbil debris mound had disintegrated. Within a year the gerbil trackway had been severely eroded by wind and water and the rock containing the arachnid trackway had slumped into the ocean. This serves as a reminder of the need for frequent coastal surveys, in particular after rockfall events and storm surges.</p>
<p>Nonetheless, these discoveries show that under favourable circumstances Pleistocene palaeosurfaces on the Cape south coast have the capacity to preserve fine detail made by tiny trackmakers, visible under optimal lighting conditions.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/179382/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>The authors do not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and have disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>There is something near-miraculous in the concept of tiny creatures, weighing just grams, making tracks and traces so long ago, that are now evident in rock.Martin Lockley, Professor of Geology, University of Colorado DenverCharles Helm, Research Associate, African Centre for Coastal Palaeoscience, Nelson Mandela UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1707752022-01-07T03:41:01Z2022-01-07T03:41:01ZLeaf at first sight: how leaf-curling spiders pair up and build a family home<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/428947/original/file-20211027-15-s2uzvo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=7%2C36%2C4883%2C3194&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">
</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Shutterstock</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Have you recently spotted a spider peeking out from a brown, curled-up leaf in your garden? </p>
<p>Chances are you’re sharing your yard with the <a href="https://australian.museum/learn/animals/spiders/leaf-curling-spider/">leaf-curling spider</a>, <em>Phonognatha graeffei</em> (pronounced fon-og-natha greef-e-i), a fascinating member of the orb-weaving spider family Araneidae (pronounced aran-ee-i-dee).</p>
<p>This spider – found in each state and territory in Australia – builds its orb web in plants and places in it a special custom-built hiding spot: a curled up leaf.</p>
<p>Similar to other orb-weaving spiders, the leaf-curling spider lives for only <a href="https://australian.museum/learn/animals/spiders/garden-orb-weaving-spiders/">one year</a> and is most commonly seen in late summer.</p>
<p>They are found in woodlands as well as urban gardens and greenery and have particularly interesting family arrangements.</p>
<p><div data-react-class="Tweet" data-react-props="{"tweetId":"1118271237300477953"}"></div></p>
<h2>Why and how do they curl the leaves?</h2>
<p>To make their leafy retreats, these spiders use silk to lift a leaf up from the ground and into their orb web. </p>
<p>Using their legs, they then carefully curl it up and secure it with silk in a funnel or cone shape. They weave this curled leaf into the web using more silk. </p>
<p>If they can’t find a suitable leaf, they might use other objects such as <a href="https://australian.museum/learn/animals/spiders/leaf-curling-spider/">snail shells and pieces of paper</a>.</p>
<p>Young spiders, which aren’t as strong as adults, start by curling up <a href="https://australian.museum/learn/animals/spiders/leaf-curling-spider/">small, fresh green leaves</a> for their retreats and move on to bigger dry leaves as they get older. </p>
<p>The curled leaves – or bits of paper – protect the spider from hungry predators, such as birds. They also shield the spider from <a href="https://citeseerx.ist.psu.edu/viewdoc/download?doi=10.1.1.706.9714&rep=rep1&type=pdf">parasitic wasps</a>, which lay their eggs on or in the bodies of other insects and spiders, eventually killing their hosts.</p>
<p>The spider can sit safely in their retreat, while keeping their front legs extended and in contact with their orb web. That way, the spider can sense any vibrations caused by an insect trapped in its web – and nip out to grab the food.</p>
<p>Like most other orb-weaving spiders, leaf-curling spiders are not fussy and will eat any insect that happens to get tangled in their web, such as flies, bees, moths and butterflies. They can even handle prey quite a bit bigger than them.</p>
<p>The spiders will spend most of their time in their retreat, only venturing out to get food in the day, or to repair and rebuild their webs (usually at night). </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/429262/original/file-20211029-17-vul6gy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/429262/original/file-20211029-17-vul6gy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/429262/original/file-20211029-17-vul6gy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/429262/original/file-20211029-17-vul6gy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/429262/original/file-20211029-17-vul6gy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/429262/original/file-20211029-17-vul6gy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/429262/original/file-20211029-17-vul6gy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/429262/original/file-20211029-17-vul6gy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The spider can sit safely in their retreat, while keeping their front legs extended and in contact with their orb web.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Shutterstock</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Venomous? Yes. Dangerous? No.</h2>
<p>Nearly all spiders you come across are venomous – in other words, they have <a href="https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/abs/10.1002/nt.2620030106">venom</a>.</p>
<p>But being venomous isn’t the same as being dangerous to humans, and like most spiders, leaf-curling spiders aren’t dangerous to us. </p>
<p>The leaf-curling spider has small fangs that point together, a bit like pincers. Bites are rare. If you hassle one, the spider could try to bite, which may cause localised pain and swelling at the site – but the <a href="https://collections.museumsvictoria.com.au/species/12422">symptoms are generally mild</a>.</p>
<p>If you spot one, just “leaf” it alone and it will do the same to you.</p>
<p>And remember: having leaf-curling spiders in your back yard is something to be proud of! These fascinating little creatures are great for keeping down pest insects and are a gardener’s friend. </p>
<p><div data-react-class="Tweet" data-react-props="{"tweetId":"1287665925194301440"}"></div></p>
<h2>Are there eggs or baby spiders inside the curled leaves?</h2>
<p>These spiders have interesting family arrangements.</p>
<p>Unusually for spiders, <a href="https://doi-org.libproxy.murdoch.edu.au/10.1007/s002650050325">males and female leaf-curling spiders form pairs</a> and <a href="https://academic.oup.com/zoolinnean/article/184/4/1055/5033867?login=true">share a leaf retreat</a>.</p>
<p>The <a href="https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/abs/10.1080/00222938600770791?casa_token=5zrKxRWl_p4AAAAA:qei414xVL1fp38LLxItNQrxhM1YmmuMYFcFKzUBXLvGJmDeqrQ7uBSfSIzaEK3_5w4whQFRwRWfi9g">male moves in with the female</a> when she is young and once she is mature he will mate with her. According to one <a href="https://link.springer.com/article/10.1007/s002650050325">study</a></p>
<blockquote>
<p>Females may cannibalise cohabiting males, which occurs independently of whether the female has been deprived of food.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>After mating, the female makes another curled leaf retreat in vegetation <a href="https://web.archive.org/web/20091024110318/http://geocities.com/brisbane_weavers/LeafCurlingSpiders.htm">away from her web</a>. This one is a “nursery” retreat, in which she will lay her eggs.</p>
<h2>A fascinating and beautiful world</h2>
<p>Spiders aren’t top of most people’s favourite animal list, I get that. </p>
<p>But, if you are able to spend a bit of time observing their lives and getting to know them and their stories, it can open up a fascinating and often beautiful world.</p>
<p>Spiders and other invertebrates such as beetles, flies, snails and millipedes are really important for the workings of our natural world, and so for us. </p>
<p>And when you get to know them, they are also pretty cool.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/170775/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Jess Marsh does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>These fascinating spiders only live for about a year and have particularly interesting family arrangements.Jess Marsh, Research fellow at the Harry Butler Institute, Murdoch UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1644802021-09-01T12:10:13Z2021-09-01T12:10:13ZZinc-infused proteins are the secret that allows scorpions, spiders and ants to puncture tough skin<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/415978/original/file-20210813-18-7h8fku.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=52%2C0%2C3122%2C1547&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">A close-up of the head of a leafcutter ant, Atta cephalotes, showing the metal-infused teeth on its mandibles.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Ryan Garrett</span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd/4.0/">CC BY-ND</a></span></figcaption></figure><p><em>The <a href="https://theconversation.com/us/topics/research-brief-83231">Research Brief</a> is a short take about interesting academic work.</em></p>
<h2>The big idea</h2>
<p>Many small animals grow their teeth, claws and other “tools” out of materials that are filled with zinc, <a href="https://doi.org/10.1016/j.jsb.2009.01.007">bromine</a> and manganese, reaching up to 20% of the material’s weight. My colleagues and I call these “heavy element biomaterials,” and in a <a href="https://www.nature.com/articles/s41598-021-91795-y">new paper</a>, we suggest that these materials make it possible for animals to grow scalpel-sharp and precisely shaped tools that are resistant to breaking, deformation and wear. </p>
<p>Because of the small size of things like ant teeth, it has been hard for biologists to test how well the materials they are made of resist fractures, impacts and abrasions. My research group <a href="https://www.nature.com/articles/s41598-021-91795-y">developed machines and methods to test these and other properties</a>, and along with our collaborators, we <a href="https://www.nature.com/articles/s41598-021-91795-y">studied their composition and molecular structure</a>. </p>
<p>We examined ant mandible teeth and found that they are a <a href="https://www.nature.com/articles/s41598-021-91795-y">smooth mix of proteins and zinc</a>, with single zinc atoms attached to about a quarter of the amino acid units that make up the proteins forming the teeth. In contrast, calcified tools – like human teeth – are made of <a href="https://darkwing.uoregon.edu/%7Ermss/HomogeneousAlternativeOutreach21-7-25.pdf">relatively large chunks of calcium minerals</a>. We think the lack of chunkiness in heavy element biomaterials makes them better than calcified materials at forming smooth, precisely shaped and extremely sharp tools. </p>
<p>To evaluate the advantages of heavy element biomaterials, we estimated the force, energy and muscle size required for cutting with tools made of different materials. Compared with other hard materials grown by these animals, the wear-resistant zinc material enables heavily used tools to puncture stiff substances using only one-fifth of the force. The estimated advantage is even greater relative to calcified materials that – since they can’t be nearly as sharp as heavy element biomaterials - can require more than 100 times as much force. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/417913/original/file-20210825-18027-13u80cy.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Images of heavy elements in ant, worm, scorpion and spider 'tools' above photos of the same things" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/417913/original/file-20210825-18027-13u80cy.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/417913/original/file-20210825-18027-13u80cy.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=215&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/417913/original/file-20210825-18027-13u80cy.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=215&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/417913/original/file-20210825-18027-13u80cy.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=215&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/417913/original/file-20210825-18027-13u80cy.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=270&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/417913/original/file-20210825-18027-13u80cy.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=270&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/417913/original/file-20210825-18027-13u80cy.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=270&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Biomaterials that incorporate zinc (red) and manganese (orange) are located in the important cutting and piercing edges of ant mandibles, worm jaws and other ‘tools.’</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Robert Schofield</span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd/4.0/">CC BY-ND</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Why it matters</h2>
<p>It’s not surprising that materials that could make sharp tools would evolve in small animals. A tick and a wolf both need to puncture the same elk skin, but the wolf has vastly stronger muscles. The tick can make up for its tiny muscles by using <a href="https://doi.org/10.1098/rsfs.2016.0002">sharper tools that focus force onto smaller regions</a>. </p>
<p>But, like a sharp pencil tip, <a href="https://doi.org/10.1098/rsfs.2016.0002">sharper tool tips break more easily</a>. The danger of fracture is made even worse by the tendency for small animals to <a href="https://doi.org/10.1098/rsfs.2016.0002">extend their reach using long thin tools</a> – like those pictured above. And a chipped claw or tooth may be fatal for a small animal that doesn’t have the strength to cut with blunted tools.</p>
<p>But we found that heavy element biomaterials are also particularly <a href="https://www.nature.com/articles/s41598-021-91795-y">hard and damage-resistant</a>.</p>
<p>From an evolutionary perspective, these materials allow smaller animals to consume tougher foods. And the energy saved by using less force during cutting can be important for any animal. These advantages may explain <a href="https://www.nature.com/articles/s41598-021-91795-y">the widespread use of heavy element biomaterials in nature</a> – most ants, many other insects, spiders and their relatives, marine worms, crustaceans and many other types of organisms use them.</p>
<h2>What still isn’t known</h2>
<p>While my team’s research has clarified the advantages of heavy element biomaterials, we still don’t know exactly how zinc and manganese harden and protect the tools. </p>
<p>One possibility is that a small fraction of the zinc, for example, forms bridges between proteins, and these cross-links stiffen the material – like crossbeams stiffen a building. We also think that when a fang bangs into something hard, these zinc cross-links may break first, absorbing energy to keep the fang itself from chipping. </p>
<p>We speculate that the abundance of extra zinc is a ready supply for healing the material by quickly reestablishing the broken zinc-histidine cross-links between proteins.</p>
<h2>What’s next?</h2>
<p>The potential that these materials are self-healing makes them even more interesting, and our team’s next step is to test this hypothesis. Eventually we may find that self-healing or other features of heavy element biomaterials could lead to improved materials for things like small medical devices. </p>
<p>[<em>Over 110,000 readers rely on The Conversation’s newsletter to understand the world.</em> <a href="https://theconversation.com/us/newsletters/the-daily-3?utm_source=TCUS&utm_medium=inline-link&utm_campaign=newsletter-text&utm_content=100Ksignup">Sign up today</a>.]</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/164480/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Robert Schofield received funding from the National Science Foundation, grants no. DMR-1408933 and DMR-2104177</span></em></p>Many small animals make their teeth and claws from a smooth blend of proteins and heavy elements. These materials can form very sharp tools that make it possible to cut tough substances using tiny muscles.Robert Schofield, Research Professor in Physics, University of OregonLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1653272021-08-10T20:12:43Z2021-08-10T20:12:43ZHere are 5 new species of Australian trapdoor spider. It took scientists a century to tell them apart<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/414451/original/file-20210804-16-1wzleoe.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=1%2C19%2C997%2C643&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">A female _Euoplos variabilis_ from Mount Tamborine</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Jeremy Wilson</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>After a century of scientific confusion, we can now officially add five new species to Australia’s long list of trapdoor spiders — secretive, burrowing relatives of tarantulas.</p>
<p>It all <a href="https://journals.australian.museum/rainbow-and-pulleine-1918-rec-aust-mus-127-81169/">started in 1918</a>, when a species known as <em>Euoplos variabilis</em>, was first described. Since then, this species has been considered widespread throughout south-eastern Queensland.</p>
<p>However, in <a href="https://doi.org/10.1071/IS20055">new research</a>, fellow arachnologists from the Queensland Museum studied the physical appearance and DNA of these trapdoor spiders. They revealed this “widespread” species is actually several.</p>
<p>Many trapdoor spider species are <a href="https://doi.org/10.1071/IS02009">short-range endemics</a>, meaning they only occur in one small area. This makes them especially vulnerable to threats such as <a href="https://doi.org/10.1093/jpe/rtr038">habitat destruction and degradation</a>, which is why the discovery and description of these new species from Queensland is so important — they can now be protected from future threats.</p>
<h2>Meet Australia’s trapdoor spiders</h2>
<p>To many people, Australia’s spider diversity is a source of fear. To arachnologists like myself, it’s a goldmine. </p>
<p>Weird and wonderful new species are everywhere. While new discoveries are relatively common, it’s likely most Australian spider species are still yet to be named by science. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/412297/original/file-20210720-21-1di1z00.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/412297/original/file-20210720-21-1di1z00.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/412297/original/file-20210720-21-1di1z00.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=441&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/412297/original/file-20210720-21-1di1z00.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=441&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/412297/original/file-20210720-21-1di1z00.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=441&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/412297/original/file-20210720-21-1di1z00.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=554&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/412297/original/file-20210720-21-1di1z00.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=554&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/412297/original/file-20210720-21-1di1z00.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=554&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The crenate burrow of <em>Euoplos crenatus</em>, a recently discovered ‘palisade trapdoor spider’.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Michael Rix</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Trapdoor spiders live in burrows that usually have a hinged door at the entrance that the spider constructs using silk, soil or other material from the surrounding area. Their burrows can be camouflaged, but to a trained eye they’re easily found on the <a href="https://mary-cairncross.sunshinecoast.qld.gov.au/See-and-do/The-rainforest/Invertebrates/Trapdoor-spider">soil embankments beside walking tracks</a> in eastern Australian rainforests.</p>
<p>In the past few years, I’ve been part of a team studying the <a href="https://doi.org/10.1071/IS16065">spiny trapdoor spiders</a> — a group of relatively large (up to about seven centimetres long, including legs) but highly secretive spiders found throughout Australia. They belong to an ancient group called the <a href="https://doi.org/10.1093/sysbio/syz064">Mygalomorphae</a> that, alongside tarantulas, includes the infamous Australian funnel-web spiders.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/412299/original/file-20210720-13-d4dm8k.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/412299/original/file-20210720-13-d4dm8k.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/412299/original/file-20210720-13-d4dm8k.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=137&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/412299/original/file-20210720-13-d4dm8k.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=137&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/412299/original/file-20210720-13-d4dm8k.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=137&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/412299/original/file-20210720-13-d4dm8k.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=172&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/412299/original/file-20210720-13-d4dm8k.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=172&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/412299/original/file-20210720-13-d4dm8k.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=172&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Australian spiders of the group called the Mygalomorphae: left, a funnel-web spider; middle, a wishbone spider; right, a tree trapdoor spider.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Jeremy Wilson</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Like other trapdoor spiders, adult male and female spiny trapdoor spiders look shockingly different. When males reach adulthood, their physical appearance changes: their legs get longer and thinner, and their first appendages (called “pedipalps”) develop into structures used for mating. In contrast, adult females remain short-legged and robust. </p>
<p>Male trapdoor spiders undergo this dramatic change because as adults they must leave their burrow and search for females to breed. </p>
<p>Their long legs presumably help them run faster and further in search of females, and also allow them to keep the vulnerable parts of their body out of harm’s way once they meet the (usually larger) female, who isn’t always happy to see them.</p>
<h2>The mystery of the trapdoor spider from Mount Tamborine</h2>
<p>This striking differences in appearance between male and female spiny trapdoor spiders (“sexual dimorphism”) was at the heart of the mystery regarding the true identity of <em>Euoplos variabilis</em>.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/412301/original/file-20210720-15-kov1hy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/412301/original/file-20210720-15-kov1hy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/412301/original/file-20210720-15-kov1hy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=203&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/412301/original/file-20210720-15-kov1hy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=203&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/412301/original/file-20210720-15-kov1hy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=203&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/412301/original/file-20210720-15-kov1hy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=255&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/412301/original/file-20210720-15-kov1hy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=255&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/412301/original/file-20210720-15-kov1hy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=255&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">A male and female of the same species of trapdoor spider, showing the sleek, long-legged male and the robust female.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Jeremy Wilson</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>When the species was first described in 1918, it was based only on female spiders, which were red-brown, large and lived in the rainforest of Mount Tamborine, just south of Brisbane.</p>
<p>In 1985, a male spider, also from Mount Tamborine, was finally linked to the original females. Matching male and female trapdoor spiders of the same species can be difficult because they look so different. </p>
<p>This all changed when the Queensland Museum team began researching the spiny trapdoor spiders of eastern Australia in 2015. When they looked in the museum’s natural history collection, it seemed like males of the Mount Tamborine trapdoor spider were widespread, spanning Brisbane to the Sunshine Coast.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/i-travelled-australia-looking-for-peacock-spiders-and-collected-7-new-species-and-named-one-after-the-starry-night-sky-135201">I travelled Australia looking for peacock spiders, and collected 7 new species (and named one after the starry night sky)</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>But strangely, they found females from different locations looked different. </p>
<p>While females from the Mount Tamborine rainforest were large and red-brown, those from the lowlands of north Brisbane were small and tan. And in the rainforest of the D'Aguilar Range, north of Brisbane, the females were even bigger, with a bright orange carapace and red legs. </p>
<p>Could these really all be the same species?</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/412307/original/file-20210720-25-1eofc0e.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/412307/original/file-20210720-25-1eofc0e.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/412307/original/file-20210720-25-1eofc0e.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/412307/original/file-20210720-25-1eofc0e.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/412307/original/file-20210720-25-1eofc0e.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/412307/original/file-20210720-25-1eofc0e.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/412307/original/file-20210720-25-1eofc0e.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/412307/original/file-20210720-25-1eofc0e.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">One of the males originally thought to be <em>Euoplos variabilis</em>. It was later realised these males belong to an entirely different species, now called <em>Cryptoforis hughesae</em>.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Michael Rix</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>This mystery was solved in two steps</h2>
<p>First, in 2018, the museum’s arachnologists discovered the seemingly widespread males were actually members of a <a href="https://doi.org/10.1636/JoA-S-18-100">completely different group of trapdoor spiders</a>, which also occurs in eastern Australia. In other words, there had been a male/female mismatch!</p>
<p>Then, by collecting fresh trapdoor spiders around south-east Queensland and studying their DNA, they discovered the Mount Tamborine trapdoor spider actually doesn’t occur in Brisbane at all. In fact, it’s found only in the mountain ranges bordering New South Wales, with Mount Tamborine being its the most northerly location.</p>
<p>Surprisingly, the female spiders found in Brisbane, the D'Aguilar range, and in various other areas, turned out to be several completely different species, new to science. </p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/ever-wondered-whod-win-in-a-fight-between-a-scorpion-and-tarantula-a-venom-scientist-explains-155138">Ever wondered who'd win in a fight between a scorpion and tarantula? A venom scientist explains</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>These species can be distinguished by subtle differences in size and colour, and by differences in their DNA. The different species seem to be adapted to different habitats, at different elevations. </p>
<p>So, alongside <em>Euoplos variabilis</em>, the original Mount Tamborine trapdoor spider, the new confirmed species are: </p>
<ul>
<li><p><em>Euoplos raveni</em> and <em>Euoplos schmidti</em>, both from the lowland forests of the Brisbane Valley, south of the Brisbane River</p></li>
<li><p><em>Euoplos regalis</em> from the upland rainforest of the D'Aguilar Range</p></li>
<li><p><em>Euoplos jayneae</em> from the the lowland forests of the Sunshine Coast hinterlands</p></li>
<li><p><em>Euoplos booloumba</em> from the upland rainforest of the Conondales Range</p></li>
</ul>
<p>These five new species put the total number of known spiny trapdoor spider species to 258.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/414461/original/file-20210804-13-1seaokx.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/414461/original/file-20210804-13-1seaokx.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/414461/original/file-20210804-13-1seaokx.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/414461/original/file-20210804-13-1seaokx.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/414461/original/file-20210804-13-1seaokx.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/414461/original/file-20210804-13-1seaokx.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/414461/original/file-20210804-13-1seaokx.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/414461/original/file-20210804-13-1seaokx.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Don’t be alarmed, bites from a trapdoor spider aren’t dangerous to humans.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Shutterstock</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>What happens now?</h2>
<p>And so, the mystery was solved. Another small fraction of Australia’s beautiful biodiversity is known to science and can be preserved. But the story isn’t over just yet. </p>
<p>To properly conserve these species, we need to understand more about how they live. This is why the research team and I are undertaking <a href="https://doi.org/10.1111/aen.12367">a long-term study</a> on one of these new species, <em>Euoplos grandis</em> from the Darling Downs. We hope to learn the intricacies of their lives and to track whether populations are declining from threats such as habitat destruction.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/photos-from-the-field-zooming-in-on-australias-hidden-world-of-exquisite-mites-snails-and-beetles-147576">Photos from the field: zooming in on Australia's hidden world of exquisite mites, snails and beetles</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>We’re also continuing our mission to discover and describe new species of trapdoor spider, not just from Queensland, but from all around Australia. </p>
<p>The story of the Mount Tamborine trapdoor spider exemplifies the type of detective work Australian scientists undertake on all types of animal groups. But when it comes to invertebrates, we’ve barely scratched the surface, with new species of bugs, spiders, worms and more <a href="https://theconversation.com/photos-from-the-field-zooming-in-on-australias-hidden-world-of-exquisite-mites-snails-and-beetles-147576">waiting to be discovered</a>. </p>
<p>Working on discovering these invertebrates comes with a sense of urgency. These species need a name and formal protection, before it’s too late.</p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/dofuOSR85t4?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
<figcaption><span class="caption">Who would win in a fight between a scorpion and a tarantula? A venom scientists explains for The Conversation.</span></figcaption>
</figure>
<hr>
<p><em>Jeremy Wilson and Michael Rix from Queensland Museum were co-authors on this article</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/165327/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Mark Harvey has received ARC and ABRS grants dealing with trapdoor spiders.</span></em></p>To many people, Australia’s spider diversity is a source of fear. To arachnologists, it’s a goldmine, with most Australian spider species still yet to be discovered.Mark Harvey, Curator of Arachnology at the Western Australian Museum, Adjunct Professor, The University of Western AustraliaLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1628522021-06-16T04:23:09Z2021-06-16T04:23:09ZSpiders are cloaking Gippsland with stunning webs after the floods. An expert explains why<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/406637/original/file-20210616-21-fbnp54.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=0%2C7%2C1577%2C1147&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">
</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Darren Carney</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Stunning photographs of vast, ghostly spider webs blanketing the flood-affected region of Gippsland in Victoria have gone viral online, prompting many to muse on the wonder of nature. </p>
<p>But what’s going on here? Why do spiders do this after floods and does it happen everywhere?</p>
<p>The answer is: these webs have nothing to do with spiders trying to catch food. Spiders often use silk to move around and in this case are using long strands of web to escape from waterlogged soil. </p>
<p>This may seem unusual, but these are just native animals doing their thing. It’s crucial you don’t get out the insecticide and spray them. These spiders do important work managing pests, so by killing them off you would be increasing the risk that pests such as cockroaches and mosquitoes will get out of control.</p>
<p><div data-react-class="Tweet" data-react-props="{"tweetId":"1404627216927920132"}"></div></p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/after-the-floods-stand-by-for-spiders-slugs-and-millipedes-but-think-twice-before-reaching-for-the-bug-spray-157600">After the floods, stand by for spiders, slugs and millipedes – but think twice before reaching for the bug spray</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>Using silk to move around</h2>
<p>What you’re seeing online, or in person if you live locally, is an amazing natural phenomena but it’s not really very complicated.</p>
<p>We are constantly surrounded by spiders, but we don’t usually see them. They are hiding in the leaf litter and in the soil.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/406644/original/file-20210616-25-16tan1n.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Spider webs blanket the ground in Gippsland" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/406644/original/file-20210616-25-16tan1n.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/406644/original/file-20210616-25-16tan1n.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=447&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/406644/original/file-20210616-25-16tan1n.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=447&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/406644/original/file-20210616-25-16tan1n.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=447&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/406644/original/file-20210616-25-16tan1n.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=562&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/406644/original/file-20210616-25-16tan1n.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=562&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/406644/original/file-20210616-25-16tan1n.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=562&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">When floods happen, spiders use silk to evacuate quickly.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Darren Carney</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>When these flood events happen, they need evacuate quickly up out of holes they live in underground. They come out en masse and use their silk to help them do that. </p>
<p>You’ll often see juvenile spiders let out a long strand of silk which is caught by the wind and lifted up. The web catches onto another object such as a tree and allows the spider to climb up.</p>
<p><div data-react-class="Tweet" data-react-props="{"tweetId":"1404920507439357954"}"></div></p>
<p>That’s how baby spiders (spiderlings!) disperse when they emerge from their egg sacs — it’s called ballooning. They have to disperse as quickly as possible because they are highly cannibalistic so they need to move away from each other swiftly and find their own sites to hunt or build their webs. </p>
<figure class="align-right zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/406645/original/file-20210616-15-1ckzwcd.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/406645/original/file-20210616-15-1ckzwcd.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/406645/original/file-20210616-15-1ckzwcd.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=800&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/406645/original/file-20210616-15-1ckzwcd.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=800&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/406645/original/file-20210616-15-1ckzwcd.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=800&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/406645/original/file-20210616-15-1ckzwcd.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1005&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/406645/original/file-20210616-15-1ckzwcd.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1005&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/406645/original/file-20210616-15-1ckzwcd.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1005&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Small spiders have been seen on a post in Gippsland after floods.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">AAP Image/JEFF HOBBS</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>That said, I doubt these webs are from baby spiders. It is more likely to be a huge number of adult spiders, of all different types, sizes and species. They’re all just trying to escape the flood waters. These are definitely spiders you don’t usually see above ground so they are out of their comfort zone, too.</p>
<p>This mass evacuation of spiders, and associated blankets of silk, is not a localised thing. It is seen in other parts of Australia and around the world after flooding.</p>
<p>It just goes to show how versatile spider silk can be. It’s not just used for catching food, it’s also used for locomotion and is even used by some spiders to lay a trail so they don’t get lost.</p>
<h2>Don’t spray them!</h2>
<p>The most important thing I need readers to know is that this is not anything to be worried about. The worst thing you could do is get out the insecticide and spray them. </p>
<p>These spiders are making a huge contribution to pest control and you would have major pest problems if you get rid of all the spiders. The spiders will disperse on their own very quickly. In general, spiders don’t like being in close proximity to each other (or humans!) and they want to get back to their homes underground. </p>
<p>If you live in Gippsland, you probably don’t even need to clear the webs away with a broom. There’s no danger in doing so if you wish, but I am almost certain these webs will disperse on their own within days.</p>
<p>Until then, enjoy this natural spectacle. I wish I could come down to see them with my own eyes!</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/city-spiders-are-getting-bigger-but-thats-a-good-thing-30605">City spiders are getting bigger — but that's a good thing</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/162852/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Lizzy Lowe is a Senior Extension Scientist at Cesar Australia. </span></em></p>What’s going on here? Why do spiders do this after floods and does it happen everywhere?Lizzy Lowe, Researcher, Macquarie UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1578592021-04-19T20:14:21Z2021-04-19T20:14:21ZIf I could go anywhere: I’d revisit Maman, Louise Bourgeois’ 9-metre spider at London’s Tate Modern<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/395611/original/file-20210419-19-tooupy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=4%2C0%2C2982%2C1868&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Louise Bourgeois' Maman (1999) outside the Tate Modern in London. </span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://photos-cdn.aap.com.au/Image/20071003000046396944?path=/aap_dev3/device/imagearc/2007/10-03/63/6e/3b/aapimage-5gtce6b563mv5t1t79p_layout.jpg">AP Photo/Nathan Strange</a></span></figcaption></figure><p><em>In <a href="https://theconversation.com/au/topics/if-i-could-go-anywhere-102157">this series</a> we pay tribute to the art we wish could visit — and hope to see once travel restrictions are lifted.</em></p>
<p>She’s called <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/arts/gallery/2007/oct/03/spider">Maman</a>, and she emerged into the world in 1999, just in time to find her feet and grace the opening of the <a href="https://www.tate.org.uk/visit/tate-modern">Tate Modern</a> in the heart of London. </p>
<p>Maman. The biggest spider you’ve ever seen at more than nine metres high. The extent to which you are entranced by her bears a direct correlation to whether, when you think “spider”, you think <a href="https://www.kirkusreviews.com/book-reviews/eb-white/charlottes-web-white/">Charlotte in her web</a> or Hobbit-bothering <a href="http://tolkiengateway.net/wiki/Shelob">Shelob</a>. </p>
<p>For her maker, that most fertile and perhaps febrile artist <a href="https://www.tate.org.uk/art/artists/louise-bourgeois-2351/art-louise-bourgeois">Louise Bourgeois</a> (1911–2010), spiders represent maternal beings in their care of the young, and in their skillful making and repairing of the family web (that is, they are Charlotte, not Shelob). </p>
<p>A more typical human response is a severe case of the “ick” factor at best, and panic at worst. Yet under Bourgeois’ hands, something marvellous happens — new ways of seeing spiders, and with them the more-than-human world. </p>
<p>Her spiders have populated the globe since 1999. They are to be found poised, crouching, menacing or magnificent (depending on your attitude to arachnids) in Ottawa, Shanghai, Bilboa, Provence, Geneva, Zurich, New York, San Francisco, Moscow and elsewhere. </p>
<p>If I could go anywhere, one option would be to trail around the world on a Bourgeois spider-hunt, though I have always been uncomfortable around spiders.</p>
<p>In recent years, chagrined by my species-ism and captivated by videos of <a href="https://theconversation.com/i-travelled-australia-looking-for-peacock-spiders-and-collected-7-new-species-and-named-one-after-the-starry-night-sky-135201">tiny dancing peacock spiders</a>, I have been making valiant attempts to recognise their beauty; with some success. Recently, with much of Australia under floodwaters and my news-feeds full of stories of <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/environment/2021/mar/22/horrific-swarms-of-spiders-flee-into-homes-and-up-legs-to-escape-nsw-floods">spiders desperately swarming</a> up fenceposts and trees and human legs to escape death, I would leave this country and fly straight to London, to see Maman again.</p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/qy7xJhImnLw?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
<figcaption><span class="caption">‘I transform hate into love.’</span></figcaption>
</figure>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/review-the-naked-nude-from-the-tate-68324">Review: The naked nude from the Tate</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>Incidental art</h2>
<p>I would take the underground from whichever dingy affordable flat I could find to rent, arriving at Southwark Station. I stood there in 2006 for nearly half an hour, entranced by Bill Fontana’s <a href="https://resoundings.org/Pages/Harmonic_Bridge1.htm">Harmonic Bridge</a>. That work is the product of the Millennium Bridge vibrating under the feet of pedestrians crossing from St Paul’s to Bankside, and against the movement of the river below it and the wind that crosses it. </p>
<p>Like Bourgeois’ Maman, the sounds captured by Fontana and shaped into an audio sculpture have the capacity to shift one’s sense of lived experience and what it can mean.</p>
<p>Incidentally, in 2011 I visited Tate Modern to see Ai Weiwei’s <a href="https://www.tate.org.uk/art/artworks/ai-sunflower-seeds-t13408">1-125,000,000</a> (2010), a hill of handcrafted sunflower seeds made of porcelain, fired and painted, displayed in the <a href="https://www.tate.org.uk/visit/tate-modern/turbine-hall">Turbine Hall</a>. Gazing at the seeds, I found myself listening to percussive sounds coming from further up the building, and hunted about for a plaque to say it was also the work of Bill Fontana. Eventually I asked a nearby guide who the sound artist was and, without a hint of condescension, she smiled and said, “They’re doing some plumbing work next door”.</p>
<p>In my fantasy art trip now, I choke down that humiliating memory and walk the ten minutes or so down toward the Thames, back to what was the Bankside Power Station, and is now the Tate Modern.</p>
<p>And in my imagination, I retrace my steps to the Turbine Hall, greet Maman, and then wander up through gallery after gallery, through permanent collection and special exhibitions, all the way to the bar on Level … is it 5? I forget. There I buy a glass of wine, alone or with friends and colleagues, and gaze across the Thames to the dome of <a href="https://www.britannica.com/biography/Christopher-Wren">Christopher Wren</a>’s <a href="http://scihi.org/christopher-wren-saint-pauls-cathedral/">St Paul’s cathedral</a>. </p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/h51hVeQyooQ?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
<figcaption><span class="caption">The chimney of the Tate is 99 metres high.</span></figcaption>
</figure>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/if-i-could-go-anywhere-japanese-art-island-chichu-a-meditation-and-an-education-133439">If I could go anywhere: Japanese art island Chichu, a meditation and an education</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>A special host</h2>
<p>St Paul’s is just around the corner from where my late aunt lived, in the brutalist <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2016/oct/10/barbican-housing-photography-design-architecture">Barbican</a> estate. </p>
<p>She generously provided me a bed on various of my trips, and showed me the art at the heart of her city. I saw Benjamin Britten’s haunting, heartbreaking War <a href="https://artswarandpeace.univ-paris-diderot.fr/wp-content/uploads/2018/12/1.1_2_coudercrevised1novbrittenwar.pdf">Requiem</a> in her private box at the <a href="http://www.avictorian.com/alberthall.html">Royal Albert Hall</a>, that remarkable Victorian structure that resembles, to a stranger seated within, the inside of someone else’s mouth. Later she took me to Bach’s <a href="https://www.bachvereniging.nl/en/bwv/bwv-244/">St Matthew Passion</a> performed at the Barbican, where we <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/friday_review/story/0,3605,472259,00.html">sang along with the choir</a>, lustily and not entirely in tune.</p>
<p>She took me, too, on her personalised tour of the city. I saw another Christopher Wren building, the church of St Stephen Walbrook, and its splendidly democratic <a href="https://ststephenwalbrook.net/history/henry-moore/">Henry Moore altar</a>. I saw remnants of that ancient Roman construction, the <a href="https://www.barbicanliving.co.uk/blocks/wallside/the-wall/">London Wall</a>. </p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/if-i-could-go-anywhere-boughton-house-the-english-versailles-and-its-shimmering-treasures-157598">If I could go anywhere: Boughton House, ‘the English Versailles’ and its shimmering treasures</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>Just beyond my aunt’s apartment is Michael Ayrton’s priapic <a href="https://www.bowmansculpture.com/michael-ayrton/544e655/minotaur-erect">Minotaur</a> sculpture, which, she told me, often boasts a shopping bag or scarf hooked by some passing wag across the phallus. We went to <a href="http://www.postmanspark.org.uk/about.html">Postman’s Park</a>, devised in the late 19th century by the artist <a href="https://www.tate.org.uk/art/artists/george-frederic-watts-586">George Frederick Watts</a> as a place to remember everyday heroes who lost their lives in saving others. </p>
<p>I want to go back to London, a city all awash with art, and with history tucked between the glass and steel monoliths that characterise its skyline. </p>
<p>I want — in my imagination — to visit my aunt and Maman: to revisit women’s care for family; to remember my aunt’s knowledge of and passion for the city and its art, and her generosity to a niece landing on her doorstep, fresh from the antipodes. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/395617/original/file-20210419-19-oaarna.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="A pretty London park." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/395617/original/file-20210419-19-oaarna.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/395617/original/file-20210419-19-oaarna.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/395617/original/file-20210419-19-oaarna.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/395617/original/file-20210419-19-oaarna.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/395617/original/file-20210419-19-oaarna.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/395617/original/file-20210419-19-oaarna.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/395617/original/file-20210419-19-oaarna.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Postman’s Park off Aldersgate Street, London.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://image.shutterstock.com/image-photo/london-uk-august-15-2009-600w-1909271344.jpg">Shutterstock</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/157859/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Jen Webb receives funding from the Australian Research Council.</span></em></p>In this instalment of our fantasy art travel series, Jen Webb yearns to revisit London, a special aunt and a very big arachnid.Jen Webb, Dean, Graduate Research, University of CanberraLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1535612021-02-10T13:13:48Z2021-02-10T13:13:48ZSpider legs build webs without the brain’s help – providing a model for future robot limbs<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/383377/original/file-20210209-23-10gewzg.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=35%2C0%2C4000%2C2658&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">
</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.shutterstock.com/image-photo/european-garden-spider-diadem-orangie-cross-1805537293">Erik Karits/Shutterstock </a></span></figcaption></figure><p>Arachnophobes often cite spiders’ unpredictable movement as the basis of their fear, pointing out how each spindly leg seems to lift, flex and probe with a menacing degree of autonomy. </p>
<p>Perhaps unsettlingly, my colleague Thiemo Krink and I have conducted research that reveals that each one of a spider’s legs does indeed enjoy a certain independence from the brain – especially in the complex task of web-building. </p>
<p><a href="https://royalsocietypublishing.org/doi/10.1098/rsif.2020.0569">Our study</a> has shown that spider legs have “minds of their own”, constructing webs without the oversight of the spider’s brain. This has important implications for the field of robotics, which may take inspiration from this example of decentralised intelligence to build similarly autonomous robot limbs.</p>
<p>To arrive at our conclusions, we observed the common garden spider <em>Araneus diadematus</em>, a creature familiar to us all – both suspended in our back yards, and as the heroine within the pages of the children’s book Charlotte’s Web.</p>
<h2>Web engineers</h2>
<p>Spiders’ webs serve many functions. They provide a safe home, but they’re also famously an invisible and highly dynamic trap set up to capture and then firmly hold any insect that strays too close. </p>
<p>To perform this function, webs use a a <a href="https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/full/10.1002/adma.201401027">strong structural scaffold</a> of radiating spokes with what’s called a “capture spiral” built on top, which is soft and sticky and uses an extremely clever microscopic <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cnbhsWtL4ks">reeling mechanism</a> to pull in a spider’s prey. </p>
<p>Not only does the capture spiral use <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iV_HsWWt6_o&ab_channel=OxfordSilkGroup">electrostatic charges</a> to trap a fly, it features a complex glue to hold it firmly, and a <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Kjh7bQSc8ag&ab_channel=OxfordSilkGroup">specific elasticity</a> that makes the web too stretchy for the leg of a hapless insect to push against in its struggle for freedom.</p>
<p>The analogy of the internet as a “web” is a fine one: because at least five different silks are used in a spider’s web, the way they intersect and network with one another creates a kind of <a href="https://academic.oup.com/icb/article-abstract/59/6/1636/5491829">information filtering capacity</a> – with tiny vibrations noted at all times by a spider’s listening legs.</p>
<h2>Spider diagram</h2>
<p>Given the incredible complexity of spiders’ webs we must ask how such a small animal – with an obviously minute brain – can design and build this advanced structure. Modern technology has helped us begin to understand how spiders manage such a complex task. </p>
<p>By filming and tracking the movements of its eight legs, we have been able to track a spider’s web-building in intimate detail, revealing the construction process to be a kind of dance around a central hub, with a precise choreography of replicable rules.</p>
<p>These rules are surprisingly simple. Each step and thread manipulation follows a fixed action pattern, with one of the spider’s legs measuring an angle and a distance in order to place and then connect one thread to another with a quick dab of glue – always with impeccable accuracy and spacing. Many years ago, we programmed a virtual spider, named Theseus, to demonstrate how this works.</p>
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<figcaption><span class="caption">Theseus the virtual spider, introduced here by the lead author of the Theseus project, Dr Thiemo Krink.</span></figcaption>
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<p>The apparent complexity of the structure is the result of a long sequence of thousands of small steps and actions, each building on the previous steps and actions. This iterative process invests the network with “emergent properties” – special properties that manifest as the result of different components working together – which in turn provide outstanding architectural and engineering functionality.</p>
<h2>Outsourcing</h2>
<p>The complexity of the task at hand (or rather foot) when building a web seems to have required spider brains to outsource the work to the eight legs. Put another way, spider legs build webs semi-autonomously – eight phantom limbs performing their dance within local, closed feedback loops. </p>
<p>We discovered this after studying spiders building webs within frames in our laboratory. In some experiments, we cut out threads of a web being built. In others, we rotated the web like a ferris wheel. This probing wasn’t done to annoy the spider: it was to help us discern the rules that govern web building.</p>
<p>With a set of rules established – including rules that help spiders continue to build a disrupted web – we taught them to Theseus, our virtual spider. </p>
<p>The new rules we taught Theseus – based on the dances of real spiders we observed in our lab – revealed that each leg actually conducts many web-building actions as <a href="https://royalsocietypublishing.org/doi/10.1098/rsif.2020.0569">an independent agent</a>. This in turn helped us solve the mystery of how spiders build perfect webs after the loss of a leg. </p>
<p>When a spider’s leg becomes trapped, it’s discarded, and a shorter leg regenerates the next time the spider moults its exoskeleton. Not only is this replacement half the size of a normal leg, it’s also a different shape, with different hairs and sensors. Yet somehow spiders with regenerated legs continue to build perfect webs.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="A small spider against a black background on its web" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/383372/original/file-20210209-23-w7b7i6.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/383372/original/file-20210209-23-w7b7i6.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=446&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/383372/original/file-20210209-23-w7b7i6.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=446&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/383372/original/file-20210209-23-w7b7i6.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=446&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/383372/original/file-20210209-23-w7b7i6.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=561&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/383372/original/file-20210209-23-w7b7i6.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=561&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/383372/original/file-20210209-23-w7b7i6.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=561&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">A common garden spider with regenerated legs on its left side.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="license">Author provided</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Evolution has seen to it that spider legs can in some sense think for themselves, which means the different properties of regenerated legs does not affect the building of a web.</p>
<p>This relieves the brain from micromanaging eight legs executing complicated activities, freeing it to focus on survival actions such as looking out for predators. This efficient, decentralised system is remarkably relevant for modern roboticists – who are often inspired by the natural world in their artificial designs. </p>
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Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/why-do-robots-look-like-animals-and-humans-96967">Why do robots look like animals and humans?</a>
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<p>Spiders are not alone in decentralising tasks from the brain – indeed, most animals do it to some extent, like the continuous beating of a human heart. But with their webs, spiders provide us with a concrete, observable, and mesmerising means of measuring and understanding how this decentralisation works.</p>
<p>This neat trick lies in a spider’s embedding of simple task computation within the structure of its limbs. Roboticists call this morphological computing, and have only relatively recently discovered its power. The humble garden spider, it turns out, has been using it for well over 100 million years.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/153561/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Fritz Vollrath receives funding from The Leverhulme Foundation and European Research Council (ERC) as well as Air Force Office of Scientific Research (AFOSR), UK Science Research Councils, Royal Society, Volkswagen Stiftung and Danish National Research Fund (DNRF), </span></em></p>Unsettlingly, it appears that spiders’ legs really do have minds of their own.Fritz Vollrath, Emeritus Professor, Department of Zoology, University of OxfordLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1509042020-11-26T14:50:09Z2020-11-26T14:50:09ZInvasive species: biggest threat may be the most uncertain – disease<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/371526/original/file-20201126-17-1lbbjhg.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=0%2C189%2C2694%2C1573&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">A cockroach.</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.shutterstock.com/image-photo/australian-cockroach-white-background-1856536435">Dawn Photos/Shutterstock</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>Showering celebrities with cockroaches, spiders and other exotic bugs might have seemed fun in Australia, but it’s a different story when the bushtucker trials move to Wales. Police are investigating <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/environment/2020/nov/24/welsh-police-investigate-im-a-celebrity-non-native-species-aoe">I’m a Celebrity, Get Me Out Of Here</a> because of concerns that <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/environment/2020/nov/26/bugs-that-escape-im-a-celebrity-could-cause-severe-problems-says-chris-packham-aoe">non-native wildlife</a> used in the ITV reality show – said to include cockroaches, whip scorpions, mealworms and crayfish – may be escaping into the Welsh countryside.</p>
<p>The UK is at constant risk of invasion by animals, plants, and microbes that haven’t evolved here. We can appreciate their potential environmental impact by comparing invasive species with oil spills. The effect of an oil spill is largely determined by the total amount of fuel that leaks, but it can be cleaned up and over time it becomes less severe. But when an alien species enters a new environment and is able to survive, its population can grow out of control and continue to spread and affect ecosystems long after the first release, eventually becoming difficult to control.</p>
<p>If even a few insects or spiders were to make it into the Welsh countryside, their population could grow and compete with – or even eat – native wildlife. This is what keeps invasive species biologists up at night. Nests belonging to the invasive Asian hornet have been <a href="https://www.rspb.org.uk/our-work/our-positions-and-casework/our-positions/species/invasive-non-native-species/asian-hornets/#:%7E:text=The%20Asian%20hornet%20is%20a,a%20significant%20predator%20of%20bees.&text=It%20has%20been%20recorded%20in,(as%20of%20January%202018).">recorded at least three times</a> in the UK. If this species were to gain a foothold, it could pose a major health risk to people and decimate native bee populations.</p>
<p>You only need to visit your local park to see what a successful invasion can mean for native wildlife. You might spot an invasive grey squirrel, but you’re far less likely to see a native red squirrel almost anywhere in the UK. The key to grey squirrels colonising the British Isles wasn’t simply that they turned up and pushed the reds out. The greys used biological warfare – transmitting a deadly disease to red squirrels called the squirrel pox virus. </p>
<p>This is the unknown factor that scientists fear most. We can anticipate and prepare for an invasive species that acts as a new predator or competitor for native wildlife. But how do we begin to prepare for the myriad diseases that they might carry?</p>
<h2>Hitchhikers on invasive species</h2>
<p>Invasive species can carry all kinds of diseases. If an animal or plant brings with it an unfamiliar virus, bacteria or other microorganism, it might infect local species. The crayfish plague, caused by a fungal parasite carried by invasive signal crayfish from North America, has <a href="https://cdn.buglife.org.uk/2019/05/Crayfish-in-crisis-FinalDoc2.pdf">killed large numbers</a> of the UK’s native white clawed crayfish. When crayfish plague hits a stream or river, you’ll know within the day as dead crayfish wash up.</p>
<p>While a spokesperson for I’m a Celebrity, Get Me Out Of Here was <a href="https://www.mirror.co.uk/tv/tv-news/im-celebrity-bosses-defend-use-23065778">reported as insisting</a> that the bugs they use aren’t likely to cause a problem in the wild, first impressions can be deceiving. We can’t predict how a non-native species will behave in a new environment. </p>
<p><div data-react-class="Tweet" data-react-props="{"tweetId":"1331589803243151360"}"></div></p>
<p>Our work at the <a href="https://research.tees.ac.uk/en/persons/jamie-bojko">National Horizons Centre</a> of Teesside University explores how invasive parasites, such as viruses and bacteria, evolve and interact with native species when introduced to somewhere new. Their spread and impact can vary depending on the type of parasite and the species it infects. In some cases, like the squirrels and crayfish, the disease can cause no symptoms in the invasive host, but can kill the native species. </p>
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<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/invasive-species-why-britain-cant-eat-its-way-out-of-its-crayfish-problem-147961">Invasive species: why Britain can't eat its way out of its crayfish problem</a>
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<p>In others, diseases can actually control the invaders, and stop them from causing too much damage. The invasive demon shrimp caused a great deal of alarm when it was <a href="https://canalrivertrust.org.uk/enjoy-the-waterways/canal-and-river-wildlife/the-rogues-gallery-of-invasive-species/killer-and-demon-shrimp">discovered in the UK</a> in 2012. We recently discovered a novel <a href="https://www.nature.com/articles/s41598-020-71776-3">nudivirus</a>, which appears to alter the behaviour of demon shrimp in their non-native habitat, making infected animals more active and potentially increasing their ability to spread both the virus and themselves. But we’ve also found parasites that can control the population by making the shrimp sick, including a spore-forming fungus known as <a href="https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/25929755/"><em>Cucumispora ornata</em></a>. These examples highlight the critical role invisible hitchhikers play in the invasion process, either exacerbating or limiting the colonising capabilities of their animal hosts.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="A small, pale shrimp suspended in water." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/371529/original/file-20201126-19-1uuls72.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/371529/original/file-20201126-19-1uuls72.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/371529/original/file-20201126-19-1uuls72.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/371529/original/file-20201126-19-1uuls72.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/371529/original/file-20201126-19-1uuls72.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/371529/original/file-20201126-19-1uuls72.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/371529/original/file-20201126-19-1uuls72.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Demon shrimp may not look like much, but they could spell bad news for native crustaceans.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.shutterstock.com/image-photo/demon-shrimp-swimming-water-1676441461">Jack Perks/Shutterstock</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Despite their obvious importance, we know worryingly little about these <a href="https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S0022201120301889">parasites in invasive arthropods</a> – the invertebrate animals which include insects, arachnids and crustaceans. That leaves us in the dark about the potential diseases new invaders can carry. Less than a third of invasive species we studied have been screened for parasites, and there remains a lot of uncertainty around how diverse these parasites are, which invasive species can carry them and whether their introductions could harm native wildlife.</p>
<p>The furore around I’m a Celebrity’s non-native insects should set an example. Other industries, including the trade in ornamental species and tourism, have adjusted to accommodate the risk of spreading invasive species. Now we need much better security measures for television programmes that use wildlife, to prevent non-native species escaping sets and ending up on our doorsteps.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/150904/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Jamie Bojko is an editor for two biological invasion journals.</span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>Amy Burgess does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>The reality TV show I’m a Celebrity, Get Me Out Of Here is under fire for using non-native insects while filming in the Welsh countryside.Jamie Bojko, Lecturer in Biology, Teesside UniversityAmy Burgess, PhD Candidate in Invasion Biology, Teesside UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1494552020-11-15T18:51:21Z2020-11-15T18:51:21ZIt’s getting hotter, so spiders are emerging. Should I be alarmed?<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/369214/original/file-20201113-21-dg2ngn.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=131%2C31%2C5044%2C3414&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Golden orbweaver spiders may appear in your gardens.
</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Samantha Nixon</span>, <span class="license">Author provided</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>In spring and summer every year, stories about “<a href="https://www.popsci.com/hordes-spiders-are-raining-down-australia-right-now/">hordes of spiders</a>” and “<a href="https://www.newsweek.com/spider-venomous-flesh-rotting-bite-furniture-mexico-1476701">flesh-eating venom</a>” fill tabloids and social media. </p>
<p>This rhetoric greatly exaggerates the relative risk of Australian spiders, leading to excessive pesticide use and <a href="https://theconversation.com/spider-home-invasion-season-why-the-media-may-be-to-blame-for-your-arachnophobia-147115">unnecessary phobias</a>. </p>
<p>There are more than <a href="https://wsc.nmbe.ch/">49,000 species of spiders in the world</a> and around <a href="http://www.arachne.org.au/">4,000 of these live in Australia</a>, many with astounding behaviours, beautiful colours and natural, biological pest control potential. We should be celebrating the diversity of our spiders in Australia — and what better time than right now?</p>
<p>Many insects and spiders have been growing over the winter months to emerge once the weather gets warmer. This means you’re probably going to start noticing more spiders around your house and garden. So which ones should you worry about?</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/369225/original/file-20201113-13-1ux2i5f.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="St Andrews cross spider on its unique web" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/369225/original/file-20201113-13-1ux2i5f.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/369225/original/file-20201113-13-1ux2i5f.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=399&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/369225/original/file-20201113-13-1ux2i5f.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=399&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/369225/original/file-20201113-13-1ux2i5f.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=399&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/369225/original/file-20201113-13-1ux2i5f.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=501&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/369225/original/file-20201113-13-1ux2i5f.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=501&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/369225/original/file-20201113-13-1ux2i5f.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=501&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
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<span class="caption">St Andrews cross spiders build beautiful, unique webs, and the spider sits with its legs in pairs.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Shutterstock</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Don’t fear these common household spiders</h2>
<p>Some spiders like to live in houses. It’s cool, dry and there are <a href="https://peerj.com/articles/1582/">hundreds of tasty insects</a> to eat that you may not have even noticed, such as silverfish, book lice and springtails.</p>
<p>One of the most common spiders people find at home across Australia is, true to its name, the <a href="https://australian.museum/learn/animals/spiders/black-house-spider-badumna-insignis/">black house spider</a>. These spiders build messy webs on fences and in the corners of windows. </p>
<p>Because they’re black, people can mistake these spiders for funnel-webs, but black house spiders are smaller and harmless. Also, a funnel-web will never make a web in your window.</p>
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<p>
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Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/i-travelled-australia-looking-for-peacock-spiders-and-collected-7-new-species-and-named-one-after-the-starry-night-sky-135201">I travelled Australia looking for peacock spiders, and collected 7 new species (and named one after the starry night sky)</a>
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<p>In your garden you may spot webs with a white cross (from <a href="http://www.arachne.org.au/01_cms/details.asp?ID=1022">St Andrews cross spiders</a>, <em>Argiope keyserlingi</em>), with leaf retreats (from <a href="http://www.arachne.org.au/01_cms/details.asp?ID=1702">leaf curling spiders</a>, <em>Phonognatha graeffei</em>), or golden silk (from <a href="http://www.arachne.org.au/01_cms/details.asp?ID=910">golden orb weaving spiders</a>, <em>Trichonephila sp.</em>). While impressive, these spiders are shy and their venom is harmless. </p>
<p>Even larger are huntsman spiders (from the <em>Sparassidae</em> family). While they’re famously fast moving, their bites are rare and, at worst, cause mild to moderate pain. </p>
<p>The good news is the vast majority of Australian spiders are harmless. In fact, a global study found less than <a href="https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/abs/pii/S0041010117302696?via%3Dihub">0.5% of spiders are dangerous to humans</a>. </p>
<p>However, Australia is home to a number of “medically significant” spiders whose bites can be severe. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/369219/original/file-20201113-19-uu9gi5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Huntsman spider on a tree" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/369219/original/file-20201113-19-uu9gi5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/369219/original/file-20201113-19-uu9gi5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/369219/original/file-20201113-19-uu9gi5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/369219/original/file-20201113-19-uu9gi5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/369219/original/file-20201113-19-uu9gi5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/369219/original/file-20201113-19-uu9gi5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/369219/original/file-20201113-19-uu9gi5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Huntsmans are huge, but generally harmless.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Shutterstock</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Funnel-webs are emerging from their burrows</h2>
<p>First and foremost are funnel-web spiders, which are in the <em>Atracidae</em> family. Sydneysiders are likely well aware of the infamous Sydney funnel-web spider (<em>Atrax robustus</em>), but there are actually around 40 species of funnel-web spiders spread up and down the east coast of Australia. </p>
<p>Most funnel-webs will spend their lives hidden in their burrow. But during spring and summer, male spiders will wander about the bush (and sometimes back gardens) looking for mates, increasing the risk of human contact. </p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/i-didnt-mean-to-hurt-you-new-research-shows-funnel-webs-dont-set-out-to-kill-humans-146406">'I didn't mean to hurt you': new research shows funnel webs don't set out to kill humans</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>Recent studies into funnel-web venom evolution have shown male Sydney funnel-webs have a high concentration of a toxin called “delta-hexatoxin”, which disrupts neuronal signalling and can lead to respiratory and cardiac failure. This helps them catch insect prey and defend themselves by causing pain in predators. </p>
<p>But through a <a href="https://theconversation.com/i-didnt-mean-to-hurt-you-new-research-shows-funnel-webs-dont-set-out-to-kill-humans-146406">quirk of evolution</a>, this toxin can be fatal to humans.</p>
<p>The hexatoxins are <a href="https://www.pnas.org/content/117/40/24920">distributed throughout</a> the funnel-web family. To date, serious bites have only been reported from funnel-webs in southern Queensland and NSW. This <a href="https://www.mja.com.au/journal/2005/182/8/funnel-web-spider-bite-systematic-review-recorded-clinical-cases">includes</a> the Sydney, Blue Mountains, Toowoomba/Darling Downs and the Northern Tree-dwelling funnel-web spiders. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/369220/original/file-20201113-19-1ogdgp8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Sydney funnel-web raising its legs" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/369220/original/file-20201113-19-1ogdgp8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/369220/original/file-20201113-19-1ogdgp8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=410&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/369220/original/file-20201113-19-1ogdgp8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=410&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/369220/original/file-20201113-19-1ogdgp8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=410&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/369220/original/file-20201113-19-1ogdgp8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=515&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/369220/original/file-20201113-19-1ogdgp8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=515&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/369220/original/file-20201113-19-1ogdgp8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=515&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Funnel-web spiders spend most their lives hidden in a burrow.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Shutterstock</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Mouse spiders and redbacks</h2>
<p>Mouse spiders (<em>Missulena sp.</em>) also have a toxin similar to hexatoxin in their venom, so their bites have <a href="https://journals.plos.org/plosone/article?id=10.1371/journal.pone.0038753">similar effects</a>. Like the funnel-webs, there are <a href="https://australian.museum/learn/animals/spiders/mouse-spiders/">species of mouse spiders all over Australia</a>.</p>
<p>Fortunately, <a href="https://www.mja.com.au/journal/2004/180/5/mouse-spider-bites-missulena-spp-and-their-medical-importance">clinical studies</a> suggest serious mouse spider bites are rare, but these spiders should still be treated with caution. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/369218/original/file-20201113-17-5nfgea.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Mouse spider crawling on a rock" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/369218/original/file-20201113-17-5nfgea.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/369218/original/file-20201113-17-5nfgea.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=326&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/369218/original/file-20201113-17-5nfgea.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=326&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/369218/original/file-20201113-17-5nfgea.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=326&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/369218/original/file-20201113-17-5nfgea.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=409&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/369218/original/file-20201113-17-5nfgea.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=409&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/369218/original/file-20201113-17-5nfgea.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=409&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Mouse spiders are best avoided.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Shutterstock</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>And then there’s the renowned Australian redback spider (<em>Latrodectus hasselti</em>), with its striking red stripe. These spiders are <a href="https://australian.museum/learn/animals/spiders/redback-spider/">found across the continent</a>.</p>
<p>Redback spiders are related to American black widows and have toxins called latrotoxins, which also disrupt neuronal signalling in their prey. (It’s the female redbacks you need to keep an eye out for.) </p>
<p>Redbacks have a <a href="https://www.mja.com.au/journal/2003/179/2/latrodectism-prospective-cohort-study-bites-formally-identified-redback-spiders">painful bite</a> and symptoms can persist for several days. Fortunately for both redbacks and funnel-webs, effective antivenom treatments are available. If bitten, it’s always best to seek medical attention. </p>
<p>It’s worth noting no one has died directly from a spider bite in Australia in more than 40 years since the <a href="https://australian.museum/learn/animals/spiders/funnel-web-spiders-group/#:%7E:text=An%20antivenom%20for%20the%20Sydney,have%20occurred%20since%20its%20introduction.">introduction of antivenom</a>. So while Australian spiders may have a fearsome reputation, it’s somewhat overblown. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/369217/original/file-20201113-21-1x5zdw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/369217/original/file-20201113-21-1x5zdw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/369217/original/file-20201113-21-1x5zdw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=600&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/369217/original/file-20201113-21-1x5zdw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=600&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/369217/original/file-20201113-21-1x5zdw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=600&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/369217/original/file-20201113-21-1x5zdw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=754&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/369217/original/file-20201113-21-1x5zdw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=754&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/369217/original/file-20201113-21-1x5zdw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=754&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The infamous redback spider (<em>Latrodectus hasselti</em>) is one of Australia’s few spiders capable of serious envenomation.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Sam Robinson</span>, <span class="license">Author provided</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>What to do with spiders in your house and garden</h2>
<p>The first thing you should ask yourself is, do I need to get rid of them at all? </p>
<p>Spiders play an important role in the control of pests such as cockroaches and mosquitoes, so much so that each year, spiders <a href="https://link.springer.com/article/10.1007/s00114-017-1440-1">eat more insect biomass than the weight of the entire human population</a>. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/369223/original/file-20201113-17-q0iep3.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="A black house spider against a wall" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/369223/original/file-20201113-17-q0iep3.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/369223/original/file-20201113-17-q0iep3.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=395&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/369223/original/file-20201113-17-q0iep3.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=395&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/369223/original/file-20201113-17-q0iep3.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=395&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/369223/original/file-20201113-17-q0iep3.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=497&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/369223/original/file-20201113-17-q0iep3.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=497&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/369223/original/file-20201113-17-q0iep3.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=497&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Black house spiders build messy webs.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Shutterstock</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>If you come face to face with an unwanted spider in your house, we recommend using a container and piece of paper for a simple catch-and-release into the garden. If the webs are what bothers you — and we’ve all walked face-first through a web at some point — sweeping them away will usually be enough for the spider to move on.</p>
<p>Alternatively, you can leave the webs in the garden to catch other insects (think of them as functional, miniature artworks).</p>
<p>Redbacks have a habit of building their webs under, for example, the rims of pot plants and in outdoor furniture. This can be a problem, especially for small children. </p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/dont-like-spiders-here-are-10-reasons-to-change-your-mind-126433">Don't like spiders? Here are 10 reasons to change your mind</a>
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<hr>
<p>So keeping your house and garden tidy, regularly sweeping and avoiding leaving junk lying around makes your garden less attractive for web-building. </p>
<p>It’s also good to avoid leaving shoes outside (or shaking them out) and checking your swimming pools for lost wandering spiders. This will help prevent accidental contact with funnel-webs during spring and summer. </p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/bQABY9H1h1Y?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
<figcaption><span class="caption">Using amazing close-up footage, Sir David Attenborough explores the world of the redback spider.</span></figcaption>
</figure>
<p>If you really have to kill a redback, a quick squish with the shoe is far better than using pesticides, which have negative impacts on <a href="https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/abs/10.1002/9781119255574.ch11">human health</a> and the <a href="https://link.springer.com/article/10.1007/s11356-014-3277-x">environment</a>. This includes polluting streams, harming birds and bees, and leading to <a href="https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/26758450/">insecticide resistance in pests</a> such as cockroaches and mosquitoes. </p>
<p>Spiders are a key part of Australia’s native ecosystems, <a href="https://link.springer.com/article/10.1007/s10531-017-1466-x">including in cities</a>. The harm we do to our own health and the environment by using excessive pesticides far outweighs the risk spiders pose to us. </p>
<p>If we can learn to live alongside these not-so-creepy crawlies, our houses and gardens will be better for it. </p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/spider-home-invasion-season-why-the-media-may-be-to-blame-for-your-arachnophobia-147115">Spider home invasion season: why the media may be to blame for your arachnophobia</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/149455/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>The authors do not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and have disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>We identify a few harmless spiders you’ve probably seen around the house and backyard — and a few that are best avoided.Lizzy Lowe, Postdoctoral researcher, Macquarie UniversitySamantha Nixon, PhD, The University of QueenslandLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1451602020-10-29T12:35:15Z2020-10-29T12:35:15ZWant to teach kids about nature? Insects can help<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/365259/original/file-20201023-18-13n8w1x.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=7%2C22%2C4875%2C3572&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Insects are an inexpensive and effective way to teach children about science. </span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/photo/african-grandmother-and-granddaughter-looking-at-royalty-free-image/80283538?adppopup=true">Ariel Skelley/DigitalVision via Getty Images Plus</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>Insects are everywhere – in backyards, balconies and the park down the street. </p>
<p>In fact, numerically speaking, insects dominate the Earth with more than <a href="https://www.annualreviews.org/doi/abs/10.1146/annurev-ento-020117-043348">5.5 million species</a>. An estimated <a href="https://www.si.edu/spotlight/buginfo/bugnos">10 quintillion – or 10,000,000,000,000,000,000 – individual insects</a> are alive at any given moment.</p>
<p>Because insects are small and readily available and can easily be kept in the classroom or at home, as <a href="https://scholar.google.com/citations?user=hkst45IAAAAJ&hl=en">insect researchers</a> we believe they are ideal for <a href="https://www.floridamuseum.ufl.edu/kawahara-lab/personnel/staff/">teaching children about nature</a> – which can in turn <a href="https://scholar.google.com/citations?user=MWrW6E8AAAAJ&hl=en">get them excited about science</a>. So we conducted a survey to learn more about how public schools use insects. </p>
<h2>Teachers prefer vertebrates</h2>
<p>We surveyed 262 K-12 teachers in 44 states regarding the kinds of animals they use in their classrooms. Of the teachers who responded to this 2019 survey, six taught preschool, 62 taught elementary school, 44 taught middle school and 147 taught high school. The rest taught at all levels of instruction. </p>
<p>We found that teachers were most likely to choose vertebrates for education in the classroom, with 328 instances of amphibians, birds, fish, mammals and reptiles. We also found 144 instances of invertebrates, including insects, worms, spiders and crustaceans – such as crabs and shrimp.</p>
<p>The most common insects were butterflies, followed by beetles and cockroaches. </p>
<p>About 2 in 3 of the surveyed teachers said they do not keep insects or spiders in their classrooms because they prefer other animals. Another 1 in 6 said it was because they do not like insects. The responses show how rare it is for teachers to use insects in their classrooms and the small number of insect species they select for this purpose. </p>
<p><iframe id="UyqyF" class="tc-infographic-datawrapper" src="https://datawrapper.dwcdn.net/UyqyF/4/" height="400px" width="100%" style="border: none" frameborder="0"></iframe></p>
<h2>Experiencing nature</h2>
<p>Although <a href="https://www.thecut.com/2016/10/why-are-so-many-people-scared-of-bugs.html">many people are afraid of insects</a>, they are a great teaching tool for many reasons. For example, insects are useful for an extraordinary range of lessons, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WVAEoPC_hUU">from metamorphosis</a> to <a href="https://www.nsta.org/using-insect-biodiversity-build-basic-skills">diversity</a>. They also tend to be inexpensive and easy to care for.</p>
<p>One reason we encourage teachers to use insects in their classrooms is that we’ve observed that interacting with insects can help children <a href="https://www.floridamuseum.ufl.edu/earth-systems/blog/scientists-launch-frass-in-the-class-lessons-in-alachua-county-classrooms/">appreciate nature</a>. Rearing butterflies and moths in classrooms, or simply observing these insects outside, gives students the opportunity for a hands-on learning experience. More often than not, observing these insects leads to further inquiry and curiosity about the natural environment in which they’re found.</p>
<p>We believe that by <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XJjzzNJas8Y">keeping insects in the classroom</a>, young children have a chance to learn more about these animals. Insects are often feared or dismissed because of stigma in popular culture and general disgust. As entomologists, we believe that introducing insects in the classroom, paired with teaching students about insect behavior and environmental roles, will give students a safe place to observe and appreciate these organisms.</p>
<p>Studies in the <a href="https://naaee.org/eepro/research/library/nature-and-life-course-pathways">U.S.</a>, <a href="https://doi.org/10.2752/089279304786991783">Norway</a>, <a href="https://doi.org/10.1016/j.biocon.2014.06.011">China</a> and <a href="https://doi.org/10.3390/ijerph13060529">Japan</a> have all found that children who have many experiences in nature at a young age develop positive attitudes toward animals and the environment. For example, a survey of 1,030 urban Japanese residents found that collecting insects and plants outdoors was one of the most important factors for <a href="https://doi.org/10.1057/palcomms.2017.71">positive attitudes toward wild animals</a>.</p>
<p>[<em>Deep knowledge, daily.</em> <a href="https://theconversation.com/us/newsletters/the-daily-3?utm_source=TCUS&utm_medium=inline-link&utm_campaign=newsletter-text&utm_content=deepknowledge">Sign up for The Conversation’s newsletter</a>.]</p>
<p>During the COVID-19 pandemic, many teachers may not be able to use insects directly in their classrooms, with instruction being remote for at least part of the school year. But educators can aim a computer camera at live large insects and use teleconferencing software to teach kids. We have, for example, successfully used Zoom to show a group of kids across Florida live large Eastern Hercules beetles, praying mantises and giant katydids.</p>
<p>What’s more, there are <a href="https://entomologytoday.org/2020/03/27/learning-at-home-with-bugs/">opportunities to use insects</a> for <a href="https://vimeo.com/328588355">learning outdoors</a>, even if in colder climates there might not be year-round opportunities as we have in Florida.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/145160/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>The authors do not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and have disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>Insects are plentiful and inexpensive. Even when children aren’t attending school in person, they can learn from the encounters they have with insects outside.Akito Y. Kawahara, Associate Professor and Curator of Insects, Florida Museum of Natural History, University of FloridaMegan Ennes, Assistant Curator of Museum Education, University of FloridaLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1471152020-10-01T12:02:22Z2020-10-01T12:02:22ZSpider home invasion season: why the media may be to blame for your arachnophobia<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/361037/original/file-20201001-16-dyxmzs.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=0%2C219%2C2816%2C1648&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">
</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.shutterstock.com/image-photo/house-spider-tegenaria-atrica-backlight-205481692">LukasPich/Shutterstock</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>Spiders have an unfortunate media presence. No number of studies emphasising their ecological value or the potential of their silks to inspire wonder materials can overcome the negative press. The more emotive and sensational the coverage, the more likely it is to travel.</p>
<p>Although the proportion of spider species capable of giving humans a bad bite is very small, and no known deaths have occurred in recent decades, we retain a fear. We tend to exaggerate the risk from spider bites, even in countries with no indigenous dangerous spiders, such as the UK. There is always the apocryphal arachnid lurking <a href="https://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/2016/04/27/venomous-spider-bite-sends-man-sitting-on-the-toilet-to-hospital/">under the toilet seat</a>, or panic over <a href="https://www.mirror.co.uk/news/uk-news/britain-facing-invasion-false-widow-6432907">false widow spiders</a> whose infestations have <a href="https://www.thesun.co.uk/news/7534016/false-widow-spider-infestation-fears-force-eleventh-london-school-closing/">closed schools</a>.</p>
<p>With the arrival of autumn comes lurid news stories of <a href="https://www.theboltonnews.co.uk/news/18682685.giant-house-spiders-invade-bolton-homes-looking-love/">amorous</a> house spiders “<a href="https://www.mirror.co.uk/news/uk-news/sex-crazed-giant-house-spiders-22577203">the size of your hand</a>” invading homes to find somewhere warm and dry to mate and die. It happens every year, but the media’s insistence on turning this small arachnid’s breeding season into an annual spectacle could be doing more than selling papers. <a href="https://besjournals.onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/full/10.1002/pan3.10143">A new study</a> from Italy suggests it could be stoking arachnophobia where it may otherwise not have existed.</p>
<p><div data-react-class="Tweet" data-react-props="{"tweetId":"1301892975182721024"}"></div></p>
<h2>A web of lies</h2>
<p>The researchers scoured the digital archives of Italian newspapers, looking for the use of “bite”, “spider” and “sting” (not that spiders do sting, but don’t let that spoil a good story) in stories published during the last ten years about four spider species thought of as dangerous: the yellow sac spider, the Mediterranean black widow, the Mediterranean recluse and the false wolf spider.</p>
<p>They found 314 media reports of spider encounters in Italy between 2010 and 2020 – the majority being Mediterranean black widows or recluses. The reach of each article was measured by the number of shares on social media, along with any errors such as species misidentification or incorrect medical advice. The team counted the use of certain words, such as “devil, "terror” or “panic”, to rate how each story sensationalised the encounter.</p>
<p>They found that media reports of spider attacks have increased in recent years, especially for the Mediterranean recluse. The rise coincided with a single report of <a href="https://www.hindawi.com/journals/criem/2016/7640789/">loxoscelism</a> – the deep ulcerations and necrosis of skin resulting from a spider bite – in Europe, and an Italian murder mystery novel in which the venom of the Mediterranean recluse is the murder weapon.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="A large, pink-bodied spider with long legs on a black background." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/361045/original/file-20201001-13-fce268.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/361045/original/file-20201001-13-fce268.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/361045/original/file-20201001-13-fce268.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/361045/original/file-20201001-13-fce268.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/361045/original/file-20201001-13-fce268.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/361045/original/file-20201001-13-fce268.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/361045/original/file-20201001-13-fce268.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Mediterranean recluse spiders have a (perhaps unwarranted) bad reputation in Italy.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mediterranean_recluse_spider#/media/File:Loxosceles_rufescens2.jpg">Antonio Serrano/Wikipedia</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The spider species in the loxoscelism case was never definitively identified, but newspaper coverage of the Mediterranean recluse spiked nonetheless after the case was reported. Both the mysterious bite and the murder novel featured often in the increasing number of newspaper reports about these spiders. The press had found a compelling narrative to weave between a rare medical event and a well-timed work of fiction. Suddenly, recluse spiders weren’t so reclusive.</p>
<p>Stories that shared more recent and startling encounters travelled further. This isn’t surprising, the viral spread of content is greater if it provokes intense <a href="https://journals.sagepub.com/doi/10.1509/jmr.10.0353">delight, fear or anxiety</a>. But the emotional contagion, as the team put it, helps drive up the perceived risk from spider attack, creating unreasonable hostility towards arachnids.</p>
<h2>Jumping spiders to the rescue</h2>
<p>Spiders are often overlooked in conservation, despite controlling <a href="https://doi.org/10.1111/geb.12927">insect pests on farms</a> and having important roles in food webs as both <a href="https://doi.org/10.1371/journal.pone.0043446">predators and prey</a>. It won’t help if their media profile is largely driven by overhyped stories about “devilish” attacks and life-threatening venom. The researchers go so far as to accuse some journalists of sensationalising their stories at the expense of blameless wildlife.</p>
<p>Spiders are easy targets for scaremongering, but there are ways to improve their reputation. After all, some lovable spiders are cherished in popular culture. I defy anyone to watch Charlotte’s Web without sobbing. </p>
<p>Natural history documentaries seem to have seized on a candidate for improving the public image of spiders. If you see a cute spider feature on TV, it’s almost always a jumping spider. Furry, not so long-legged and with a large pair of eyes, it’s as if they’re designed to dispel the idea that all spiders are sinister. </p>
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<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/PQbScg3r1oQ?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
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<p>Incidentally, I’m a jumping spider, according to a BBC children’s service quiz that reveals <a href="https://www.bbc.co.uk/cbbc/quizzes/which-spider-are-you-quiz?collection=cbbc-cute">what kind of spider you are</a>. </p>
<p>On the whole, spiders in films terrorise small American towns, but seldom trouble Italy. Nonetheless, Italian spiders suffering at the hands of hype enjoy some revenge in 2014’s <a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt4030898/">Arachnicide</a>. A “truly joyous” spectacle of “bad Italian cinema”, <a href="http://www.nerdly.co.uk/2017/02/07/spiders-dvd-review/">reads one review</a>.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/147115/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Mike Jeffries does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>An Italian study revealed how a murder mystery novel and a medical rarity were used to whip up media hysteria about spiders.Mike Jeffries, Associate Professor, Ecology, Northumbria University, NewcastleLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1464062020-09-21T19:59:48Z2020-09-21T19:59:48Z‘I didn’t mean to hurt you’: new research shows funnel webs don’t set out to kill humans<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/358932/original/file-20200921-16-1fj5n7b.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=23%2C0%2C3858%2C2584&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">
</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Shutterstock</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Funnel webs are considered one of Australia’s <a href="https://australian.museum/learn/animals/spiders/funnel-web-spiders-group/">most fearsome</a> spiders, but their ability to kill humans is by accident rather than design, our new research shows.</p>
<p>In findings <a href="https://www.pnas.org/content/early/2020/09/15/2004516117">published today</a>, we reveal how the highly toxic and quick-acting venom of male funnel-web spiders is likely to have developed as a defence against predators.</p>
<p>When male funnel-web spiders are young, their venom is potent mainly to insects, which they eat. But once males start searching for a female mate, they must leave the safety of their burrows. That’s when their venom becomes potent to vertebrates such as reptiles and mammals – including humans.</p>
<p>So while humans can theoretically die from a funnel web bite, this is just an evolutionary coincidence – our research suggests the spiders aren’t specifically out to get us.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="A funnel web spider" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/358933/original/file-20200921-20-1gxqvnu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/358933/original/file-20200921-20-1gxqvnu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=410&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/358933/original/file-20200921-20-1gxqvnu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=410&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/358933/original/file-20200921-20-1gxqvnu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=410&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/358933/original/file-20200921-20-1gxqvnu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=515&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/358933/original/file-20200921-20-1gxqvnu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=515&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/358933/original/file-20200921-20-1gxqvnu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=515&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Funnel webs are among Australia’s most feared spiders.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Shutterstock</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Why so deadly?</h2>
<p><a href="https://science.sciencemag.org/content/361/6405/842">About 15%</a> of all animals use venom for reasons such as to kill or immobilise prey, self-defence or to gain advantage over competitors, such as during breeding season. As an animal matures and its activities change, so too can its venom.</p>
<p>Australian funnel webs are among a small group of spiders whose venom can kill humans. However all 13 <a href="https://www.thelancet.com/pdfs/journals/lancet/PIIS0140673610622301.pdf">recorded deaths</a> occurred before anti-venom was introduced in 1981.</p>
<p>Funnel web venom is lethal because it contains a type of neurotoxin called “delta-hexatoxin”. This toxin can kill humans by attacking the nervous system, keeping nerves “turned on” and firing over and over again. In severe cases the venom can cause muscles to go into spasm, blood pressure to drop dangerously, coma and organ failure, and <a href="https://www.thelancet.com/pdfs/journals/lancet/PIIS0140673610622301.pdf">ultimately death</a> – sometimes within a few hours.</p>
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<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/dont-like-spiders-here-are-10-reasons-to-change-your-mind-126433">Don't like spiders? Here are 10 reasons to change your mind</a>
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<p>Scientists have long been puzzled by why these toxins are so deadly to humans, when we and other primates have never been funnel web prey or predator. Scientists were also perplexed as to why male funnel webs appeared to have much deadlier venom than females, and caused most human deaths.</p>
<p>However we did know most funnel web bites in humans occur during the spiders’ <a href="http://britishspiders.org.uk/bulletin/090603.pdf">summer</a> mating season, when the male spiders rarely feed. This suggested the venom played a defensive role. </p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="Venom dripping from a funnel web's fang" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/358936/original/file-20200921-22-1xrxiix.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/358936/original/file-20200921-22-1xrxiix.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/358936/original/file-20200921-22-1xrxiix.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/358936/original/file-20200921-22-1xrxiix.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/358936/original/file-20200921-22-1xrxiix.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=502&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/358936/original/file-20200921-22-1xrxiix.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=502&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/358936/original/file-20200921-22-1xrxiix.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=502&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Venom from a male funnel web spider can kill vertebrates, including humans.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">David Wilson</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Spider sleuthing</h2>
<p>We set out to solve this mystery, using molecular analysis of the venom. Although 35 species of Australian funnel-web spiders were officially recognised, only nine delta-hexatoxins from four species had previously been identified. Our analysis increased the number of known delta-hexatoxins to 22, from the venom of ten funnel-web species. </p>
<p>Having this extra data helped us paint a much clearer picture of the venom’s story. It all comes down to natural selection – the process where organisms best adapted to their environment survive and procreate. The genes responsible for this success are preserved and carry on to the next generations, driving the process of evolution</p>
<p>Our data revealed how natural selection triggered a change in the venom of adult male funnel webs. When males sexually mature, they leave the safety of their burrow and wander considerable distances to find a female. This puts male funnel web spiders in the path of vertebrate predators. These can include reptiles (such as lizards or geckos), marsupials (such as antechinus and dunnarts), mammals (such as rats) and birds. </p>
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<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/should-i-kill-spiders-in-my-home-an-entomologist-explains-why-not-to-95912">Should I kill spiders in my home? An entomologist explains why not to</a>
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</em>
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<p>When funnel-web spiders evolved millions of years ago, toxins in its venom mainly targeted their natural prey: insects such as cockroaches and flies. We examined the genetic sequences of all delta-hexatoxins in funnel web venom. We found over time, the venom of adult males evolved to be potent to vertebrate predators. Unluckily for humans, who are vertebrate animals, we copped it in the process. </p>
<p>Female funnel webs stay safely in their burrows and let the males come to them. So the venom of females is thought to remain potent only against insects their entire lives.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="A funnel web spider entering its burrow" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/358937/original/file-20200921-20-1mo5tad.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/358937/original/file-20200921-20-1mo5tad.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/358937/original/file-20200921-20-1mo5tad.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/358937/original/file-20200921-20-1mo5tad.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/358937/original/file-20200921-20-1mo5tad.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/358937/original/file-20200921-20-1mo5tad.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/358937/original/file-20200921-20-1mo5tad.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Female funnel webs stay in their burrows, so are less likely to be eaten by predators.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Shutterstock</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Take comfort</h2>
<p>Now armed with a stronger understanding of how delta-hexatoxins evolved, we want to put that knowledge to use. The new genetic sequences we discovered will enable a better understanding of what funnel web spider venom does to the human body. This could be critical for improving existing anti-venoms, and for designing evidence-based treatment strategies for bite victims.</p>
<p>We’re not just looking at the venoms of sexually mature males. We’re also examining female funnel-web venom, hoping their insect-specific toxins will lead to new types of insecticides which are <a href="https://www.nationalgeographic.com/news/2014/6/spider-venom-honeybee/">less harmful</a> to non-target insects and the broader environment.</p>
<p>Funnel webs may be one of Australia’s most deadly spiders. But perhaps its some comfort to know their venom is not targeted against us, and the potential lethal effects are just a stroke of evolutionary bad luck.</p>
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<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/curious-kids-why-do-spiders-need-so-many-eyes-but-we-only-need-two-116821">Curious Kids: why do spiders need so many eyes but we only need two?</a>
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</em>
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<img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/146406/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Volker Herzig receives funding from the Australian Research Council (FT190100482)</span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>Bryan G. Fry does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>Funnel webs are considered one of Australia’s most fearsome spiders, but their ability to kill humans is by accident rather than design.Bryan G. Fry, Associate Professor, School of Biological Sciences, The University of QueenslandVolker Herzig, Associate Professor, University of the Sunshine CoastLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1395562020-07-12T20:11:44Z2020-07-12T20:11:44ZI’m searching firegrounds for surviving Kangaroo Island Micro-trapdoor spiders. 6 months on, I’m yet to find any<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/339064/original/file-20200602-95065-1q44hg0.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=12%2C30%2C4013%2C2987&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">
</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Jess Marsh</span>, <span class="license">Author provided</span></span></figcaption></figure><p><em>This article is part of Flora, Fauna, Fire, a special project by The Conversation that tracks the recovery of Australia’s native plants and animals after last summer’s bushfire tragedy. Explore the project <a href="https://bushfires2020.netlify.app/">here</a> and read more articles <a href="https://theconversation.com/au/search?utf8=%E2%9C%93&q=%23bushfire+recovery+2020&sort=relevancy&language=en&date=all&date_from=&date_to=">here</a>.</em></p>
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<p>I’m standing on a hill in Kangaroo Island’s Western River Wilderness Protection Area, looking over steep gullies and sweeping hillsides. As far as I can see, the landscape is burnt: bright patches of regrowth contrast with skeletal, blackened trunks. It’s stark, yet strangely beautiful. </p>
<p>It’s late May, five months after the catastrophic summer fires burned 90% of the park. I’m here to assess the damage to some of our tiniest Australians. </p>
<p>Much attention has been given to the plight of Kangaroo Island’s iconic birds and mammals – the Glossy Black Cockatoo and the Kangaroo Island Dunnart, for example. However, the invertebrates – spiders, insects and myriad other groups – have largely been overlooked. These groups contain some of Australia’s most threatened species. </p>
<p>Among the invertebrates listed by the federal government as a priority for intervention is an unassuming, brownish-black spider with squat legs and a body about the size of a A$2 coin. Its name: the Kangaroo Island Micro-trapdoor spider (<em>Moggridgea rainbowi</em>).</p>
<p>The trials it now faces offer an insight into the enormous challenges ahead for invertebrates – the tiny engines of Australia’s biodiversity – in the wake of last summer’s cataclysmic fires.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/339066/original/file-20200602-95028-1spv458.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/339066/original/file-20200602-95028-1spv458.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/339066/original/file-20200602-95028-1spv458.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/339066/original/file-20200602-95028-1spv458.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/339066/original/file-20200602-95028-1spv458.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/339066/original/file-20200602-95028-1spv458.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/339066/original/file-20200602-95028-1spv458.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/339066/original/file-20200602-95028-1spv458.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">A female Kangaroo Island Micro-trapdoor spider (<em>Moggridgea rainbowi</em>)</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Jess Marsh</span>, <span class="license">Author provided</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
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<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/dont-like-spiders-here-are-10-reasons-to-change-your-mind-126433">Don't like spiders? Here are 10 reasons to change your mind</a>
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</em>
</p>
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<h2>The sea-faring spider</h2>
<p>The Kangaroo Island Micro-trapdoor spider has an interesting history. It is the only member of its genus found in Australia, its closest relative being in Africa. <a href="https://doi.org/10.1371/journal.pone.0180139">Studies</a> show it arrived here between 2 and 16 million years ago, likely rafting across the ocean on vegetation! A true voyager. </p>
<p>Kangaroo Island Micro-trapdoor spiders exist only on Kangaroo Island. They live in short, 6cm burrows, built neatly into creek banks. They are slow, calm spiders, spending most of their time in their burrow, determinedly holding the door shut with their fangs.</p>
<p>The females care for their young; I have opened a trapdoor to find 20 tiny spiders living together with their mother. When ready, the young disperse short distances to build burrows of their own, tiny versions of the adult’s.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/339072/original/file-20200602-95065-1tchq7k.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/339072/original/file-20200602-95065-1tchq7k.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/339072/original/file-20200602-95065-1tchq7k.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/339072/original/file-20200602-95065-1tchq7k.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/339072/original/file-20200602-95065-1tchq7k.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/339072/original/file-20200602-95065-1tchq7k.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/339072/original/file-20200602-95065-1tchq7k.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/339072/original/file-20200602-95065-1tchq7k.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">When ready, young Kangaroo Island Micro-trapdoor spiders build their own burrows not far from their mothers’.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Jess Marsh</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Assessing the damage</h2>
<p>My colleagues and I are in this conservation park today to locate patches of less fiercely burnt land in which to look for survivors. Sadly, all the known western populations of this enigmatic spider were destroyed. I am yet to find any survivors in the fire ground, but it is early days. </p>
<p>We will be out here for the next year or so, walking hundreds of kilometres of creek lines, searching for signs of life. There is a lot of land out there. Around 210,000 hectares was burnt, almost half of Kangaroo Island. I remain hopeful that some colonies have survived. </p>
<h2>If we find some Kangaroo Island Micro-trapdoor spiders - what then?</h2>
<p>Surviving the initial blaze is the first step in the struggle for survival. The post-fire environment has many threats – habitat loss, exposure to hungry predators, weeds. Today, I noticed areas where soil, loosened by fire, has washed into creeks, completely burying them. </p>
<p>If we find some surviving individuals, we’ll protect them by installing sediment control, removing weeds and monitoring them in future. </p>
<h2>Why should we care?</h2>
<p>Not everyone loves spiders. I get that. But the functions invertebrates perform are vital. Our ecosystem relies on them; humans rely on them. Yet collectively our understanding of invertebrates – their importance and their value – is dangerously low. </p>
<p>The Kangaroo Island Micro-trapdoor Spider plays its own role the ecosystem. It is a predator, but we don’t really know what it eats. It’s a food source for birds, mammals or reptiles, but we don’t know what eats it. So, why should we care?</p>
<p>Firstly, I firmly believe every species has its own intrinsic value; every extinction, although a natural part of life, is a loss.</p>
<p>Secondly, the ecosystem is so complicated we don’t know exactly how the loss of one species will impact its prey, the parasites that live on it or its predators. And when we’re facing multiple extinctions, these effects could be devastating.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/339090/original/file-20200602-95032-1iq4l4a.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/339090/original/file-20200602-95032-1iq4l4a.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/339090/original/file-20200602-95032-1iq4l4a.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/339090/original/file-20200602-95032-1iq4l4a.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/339090/original/file-20200602-95032-1iq4l4a.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/339090/original/file-20200602-95032-1iq4l4a.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/339090/original/file-20200602-95032-1iq4l4a.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/339090/original/file-20200602-95032-1iq4l4a.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The Kelly Hill Conservation Park in Kangaroo Island was badly burnt in last summer’s fires.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Jess Marsh</span>, <span class="license">Author provided</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The Kangaroo Island Micro-trapdoor spider, the Kangaroo Island Assassin Spider, the Green Carpenter Bee – we only know these species are threatened because scientists like me have spent years or decades studying them. </p>
<p>But the majority of Australia’s invertebrate species are yet to be discovered. Many will be similarly at risk, but we have no way of measuring the scale of risk or the repercussions. That’s a fact we should all find scary.</p>
<p>There is hope, though. It’s not yet over for these species. Work such as ours is a step towards understanding how worsening bushfires will affect these vital, but often forgotten, members of our ecosystem.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/bushfires-can-ecosystems-recover-from-such-dramatic-losses-of-biodiversity-129836">Bushfires: can ecosystems recover from such dramatic losses of biodiversity?</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p><a href="https://bushfires2020.netlify.app"><img src="https://cdn.theconversation.com/static_files/files/1103/Explore.gif?1594552012" width="100%"></a></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/139556/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Jess Marsh does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>The story of the Kangaroo Island Micro-trapdoor spider offer insight into the challenges ahead for invertebrates – the tiny engines of Australia’s biodiversity – after this year’s cataclysmic fires.Jess Marsh, Research fellow at the Harry Butler Institute, Murdoch UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1395222020-06-17T13:24:50Z2020-06-17T13:24:50ZFour ways people stuck at home became armchair naturalists during lockdown<p>Who could have imagined that being confined to our homes would bring so many people closer to nature? With <a href="https://economictimes.indiatimes.com/news/international/world-news/covid-19-one-third-of-humanity-under-virus-lockdown/articleshow/74807030.cms">one-third of the world</a> under lockdown at one point, a record number of people pitched in to help citizen science projects gather information about the natural world.</p>
<p>Citizen science allows members of the public to contribute to scientific research and, at a time when so much lab and field work has been put on hold, citizen scientists grant the scientific community access to large amounts of crowdsourced data. </p>
<p>As the pandemic brought entire industries and most international travel to a sudden halt, skies cleared and many people reported hearing the sounds of wildlife return – even in urban centres. An enormous global taskforce of volunteer data gatherers was on hand to capture this change, revealing to researchers with impressive clarity how the pandemic affected life on Earth. Being stuck indoors also focused minds on the unusual critters that share our homes and allowed people with a good internet connection to log records of species thousands of miles away.</p>
<h2>1. Recording air pollution</h2>
<p>Cities everywhere reported <a href="https://theconversation.com/coronavirus-lockdowns-effect-on-air-pollution-provides-rare-glimpse-of-low-carbon-future-134685">improved air quality</a> as their streets fell quiet and road traffic plummeted. Under its 21-day lockdown that started on March 25, the smog cleared in Punjab in northern India and, for the first time in decades, unveiled the Himalayan mountain range more than 125 miles away. </p>
<p>These changes in air quality were reported and monitored worldwide by volunteers with <a href="https://earthchallenge2020.earthday.org/pages/airquality">Earth Challenge 2020</a>. People submitted photographs of their horizons each day to a mobile app which, combined with other data, allowed researchers to estimate air quality with precision, without the need for sophisticated sensors.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/342169/original/file-20200616-23231-1trxzo9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/342169/original/file-20200616-23231-1trxzo9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/342169/original/file-20200616-23231-1trxzo9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=180&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/342169/original/file-20200616-23231-1trxzo9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=180&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/342169/original/file-20200616-23231-1trxzo9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=180&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/342169/original/file-20200616-23231-1trxzo9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=226&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/342169/original/file-20200616-23231-1trxzo9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=226&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/342169/original/file-20200616-23231-1trxzo9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=226&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">With air pollution down, the Himalayas became visible from much further away during lockdown.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.shutterstock.com/image-photo/himalaya-panoramic-view-indian-himalayas-great-1740671309">Daniel Prudek/Shutterstock</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>2. Tracking urban wildlife</h2>
<p>As well as scenic views, people reported wildlife returning to places from which it had been absent for many years. A sea of pink engulfed Mumbai as <a href="https://edition.cnn.com/videos/travel/2020/05/01/flamingos-mumbai-lon-orig-tp.cnn">150,000 flamingos migrated into the city in April</a>.</p>
<p>But it’s not just these theatrical displays that captured our attention. More time at home also meant more time in the garden, for those lucky enough to have one. That afforded the UK’s regular garden visitors more recognition than usual. </p>
<p>Since 1995, the British Trust for Ornithology has run a year-round garden bird watch, encouraging people to record their bird sightings. Having public volunteers means that far more of this data can be collected than a single team could manage, providing a more accurate representation of the prevalence and distributions of birds across the UK, as well as annual changes and long-term patterns.</p>
<p>This year has seen a huge surge in participation, with the number of volunteers by June 2020 already exceeding the highest annual totals for every year since 2011.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/342238/original/file-20200616-23231-paibo6.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/342238/original/file-20200616-23231-paibo6.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/342238/original/file-20200616-23231-paibo6.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/342238/original/file-20200616-23231-paibo6.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/342238/original/file-20200616-23231-paibo6.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/342238/original/file-20200616-23231-paibo6.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/342238/original/file-20200616-23231-paibo6.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Garden bird sightings were up during lockdown.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.shutterstock.com/image-photo/garden-birds-on-silo-bird-feeder-770437729">Roel Slootweg/Shutterstock</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>3. Exploring the great indoors</h2>
<p>The common daddy long-legs spider is a creature many of us are familiar with, often lurking in sheds or the corners of our homes. But it’s not a species often recorded in surveys, perhaps because it’s misidentified or because people assume it doesn’t warrant further attention.</p>
<p>The UK’s long lockdown has encouraged many people to pay closer attention to this household visitor though. The daddy long-legs spider is one of three species of cellar spider in the UK, and the British Arachnological Society launched a lockdown survey to help fill the gaps in the <a href="http://britishspiders.org.uk/wiki2015/images/f/fd/BAS_Cellar_Spider_Survey2_2020.pdf">records of these species</a>. </p>
<p>By providing photographs and guides to help people identify cellar spiders, and a platform to record their findings, this study has already identified daddy long-legs spiders in 13 new areas across the UK, and the rarer wine cellar spider in three.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/342240/original/file-20200616-23261-oqf2lz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/342240/original/file-20200616-23261-oqf2lz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/342240/original/file-20200616-23261-oqf2lz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/342240/original/file-20200616-23261-oqf2lz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/342240/original/file-20200616-23261-oqf2lz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/342240/original/file-20200616-23261-oqf2lz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/342240/original/file-20200616-23261-oqf2lz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Daddy long-legs – surprisingly scarce in invertebrate surveys.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.shutterstock.com/image-photo/pholcidae-381363169">Rainer Fuhrmann/Shutterstock</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>4. Spotting species from afar</h2>
<p>With most people cancelling their summer holidays, some are choosing to explore exotic locales from home instead. Deforestation threatens species in the tropical countries that many people like to visit, but new methods are being developed to monitor wildlife from afar, allowing people to join in from their living rooms.</p>
<p>Drones allow wide surveys of difficult-to-reach environments without disturbing the habitat. Using methods from astronomy, a research group at Liverpool John Moores University plans to use drone footage to identify spider monkeys threatened by habitat loss in Central America, cataloguing the true impact of deforestation so as to develop new ways to <a href="https://www.zooniverse.org/projects/rossmcwhirter/spotting-spider-monkeys/about/research">protect this species</a>.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/342242/original/file-20200616-23217-jzl9xg.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/342242/original/file-20200616-23217-jzl9xg.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/342242/original/file-20200616-23217-jzl9xg.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/342242/original/file-20200616-23217-jzl9xg.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/342242/original/file-20200616-23217-jzl9xg.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/342242/original/file-20200616-23217-jzl9xg.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/342242/original/file-20200616-23217-jzl9xg.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">A baby spider monkey in Costa Rica.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.shutterstock.com/image-photo/baby-spider-monkey-tree-top-costa-797745139">Dean Bouton/Shutterstock</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The problem with these studies is the huge amount of time it takes to identify species of interest from hours of footage. This is where trusty citizen scientists come in. By playing their own game of spot the spider monkey from the comfort of their homes during lockdown, volunteers identified the target species within drone images and provided invaluable data for researchers, which will help them build models that can automatically detect the monkeys in footage, saving time and energy for more data collection.</p>
<p>It’s never been easier for people to get involved with citizen science. This not only helps researchers, it also helps more people appreciate the boundless wonders of nature. It is our hope that the enthusiasm will continue long after lockdown has ended, so that more considerate and sustainable communities emerge from the other side of COVID-19.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/139522/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Rebecca Young receives funding from Natural Environment Research Council (NERC) and the Royal Society for the Protection of Birds (RSPB).</span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>Jordan Patrick Cuff works with the British Arachnological Society on their citizen science surveys.</span></em></p>Citizen scientists have helped researchers track the changing environment during the pandemic.Rebecca Young, PhD Candidate in Conservation and Ecology, Cardiff UniversityJordan Patrick Cuff, PhD Candidate in Biosciences, Cardiff UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1352012020-04-17T05:10:41Z2020-04-17T05:10:41ZI travelled Australia looking for peacock spiders, and collected 7 new species (and named one after the starry night sky)<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/328568/original/file-20200416-192703-137e8gr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=0%2C6%2C2044%2C1355&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">
</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Heath Warwick</span>, <span class="license">Author provided</span></span></figcaption></figure><p><em>Environmental scientists see flora, fauna and phenomena the rest of us rarely do. In this series, we’ve invited them to share their unique <a href="https://theconversation.com/au/topics/photos-from-the-field-92499">photos from the field</a>.</em></p>
<hr>
<p>After I found my first peacock spider in the wild in 2016, I was hooked. Three years later, I was travelling across Australia on a month-long expedition to document and name new species of peacock spiders.</p>
<p>Peacock spiders are a unique group of tiny, colourful, dancing spiders <a href="https://peckhamia.com/peckhamia/PECKHAMIA_148.3.pdf">native to Australia</a>. They’re roughly between 2.5 and 6 millimetres, depending on the species. Adult male peacock spiders are usually <a href="https://royalsocietypublishing.org/doi/full/10.1098/rsif.2016.0437">colourful</a>, while female and juvenile peacock spiders are usually dull brown or grey. </p>
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<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/the-spectacular-peacock-spider-dance-and-its-strange-evolutionary-roots-51327">The spectacular peacock spider dance and its strange evolutionary roots</a>
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<p>Like peacocks, the mature male peacock spiders display their vibrant colours in elegant <a href="https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC3181266/">courtship displays</a> to impress females. They often elevate and wave their third pair of legs and lift their brilliantly coloured abdomens – like dancing. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/328570/original/file-20200417-192698-17m7ipa.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/328570/original/file-20200417-192698-17m7ipa.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/328570/original/file-20200417-192698-17m7ipa.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=820&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/328570/original/file-20200417-192698-17m7ipa.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=820&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/328570/original/file-20200417-192698-17m7ipa.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=820&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/328570/original/file-20200417-192698-17m7ipa.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1031&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/328570/original/file-20200417-192698-17m7ipa.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1031&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/328570/original/file-20200417-192698-17m7ipa.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1031&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption"><em>Maratus laurenae</em>. Male peacock spiders have brilliant colours on their abdomen to attract females.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="license">Author provided</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Up until 2011, there were <a href="https://museumsvictoria.com.au/article/the-wild-west-of-peacock-spider-research/">only seven known species</a> of them. But since then, the rate of scientific discovery has skyrocketed with upwards of 80 species being discovered in the last decade.</p>
<p>Thanks to my trip across Australia and the help from citizen scientists, I’ve recently scientifically described and named seven more species from Western Australia, South Australia and Victoria. This brings the total number of peacock spider species known to science <a href="https://www.mapress.com/j/zt/article/view/zootaxa.4758.1.1">up to 86</a>.</p>
<h2>Spider hunting: a game of luck</h2>
<p>Citizen scientists – other peacock spider enthusiasts – shared photographs and locations of potentially undocumented species with me. I pulled these together to create a list of places in Australia to visit. </p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/nVosUZA1Tjg?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
</figure>
<p>I usually find spider hunting to be a relaxing pastime, but this trip was incredibly stressful (albeit amazing). </p>
<p>The thing about peacock spiders is they’re mainly active during spring, which is <a href="https://peckhamia.com/peckhamia/PECKHAMIA_117.1.pdf">when they breed</a>. Colourful adult males are difficult – if not impossible – to find at other times of year, as they usually die shortly after the mating season. This meant I had a very short window to find what I needed to, or I had to wait another year. </p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/xYIUFEQeh3g?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
<figcaption><span class="caption">Classic.</span></figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Even when they’re active, they can be difficult to come across unless weather conditions are ideal. Not too cold. Not too rainy. Not too hot. Not too sunny. Not too shady. Not too windy. As you can imagine, it’s largely a game of luck.</p>
<h2>The wild west</h2>
<p>I arrived in Perth, picked up my hire car and bought a foam mattress that fitted in the back of my car – my bed for half of the trip. I stocked up on tinned food, bread and water, and I headed north in search of these tiny eight-legged gems.</p>
<p>My first destination: Jurien Bay. I spent the whole day under the hot sun searching for a peculiar, scientifically unknown species that Western Australian photographer <a href="https://www.australiangeographic.com.au/topics/wildlife/2018/03/photographing-was-colourful-insects/">Su RamMohan</a> had sent me photographs of. I was in the exact spot it had been photographed, but I just couldn’t find it! </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/328572/original/file-20200417-192689-fzagz0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/328572/original/file-20200417-192689-fzagz0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/328572/original/file-20200417-192689-fzagz0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/328572/original/file-20200417-192689-fzagz0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/328572/original/file-20200417-192689-fzagz0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/328572/original/file-20200417-192689-fzagz0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/328572/original/file-20200417-192689-fzagz0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/328572/original/file-20200417-192689-fzagz0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">I travelled across Denmark, Western Australia.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="license">Author provided</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The sun began to lower and I was using up precious time. I made what I now believe was the right decision and abandoned the Jurien Bay species for another time. </p>
<p>I spent days travelling between dramatic coastal landscapes, the rugged inland outback, and old, mysterious woodlands. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/328571/original/file-20200417-192749-1rl4esf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/328571/original/file-20200417-192749-1rl4esf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/328571/original/file-20200417-192749-1rl4esf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/328571/original/file-20200417-192749-1rl4esf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/328571/original/file-20200417-192749-1rl4esf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/328571/original/file-20200417-192749-1rl4esf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/328571/original/file-20200417-192749-1rl4esf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/328571/original/file-20200417-192749-1rl4esf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Kalbarri Gorge, Western Australia, where <em>Maratus constellatus</em> was found.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="license">Author provided</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>I hunted tirelessly with my eyes fixed on the ground searching for movement. In a massive change of luck from the beginning of my trip, it seemed conditions were (mostly) on my side. </p>
<p>With the much-appreciated help of some of my field companions from the University of Hamburg and volunteers from the public, a total of five new species were discovered and scientifically named from Western Australia.</p>
<h2>The Little Desert</h2>
<p>Two days after returning from Western Australia, I headed to the Little Desert National Park in Victoria on a <a href="https://bushblitz.org.au/the-little-desert-bush-blitz-is-preparing-for-some-big-finds/">Bush Blitz expedition</a>, joined by several of my colleagues from Museums Victoria.</p>
<p>I’d thought the landscape’s harsh, dry conditions were unsuitable for peacock spiders, as most described species are <a href="https://peckhamia.com/peckhamia/PECKHAMIA_148.3.pdf">known to live in temperate regions</a>.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/328601/original/file-20200417-192762-1mkb5mz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/328601/original/file-20200417-192762-1mkb5mz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/328601/original/file-20200417-192762-1mkb5mz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/328601/original/file-20200417-192762-1mkb5mz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/328601/original/file-20200417-192762-1mkb5mz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/328601/original/file-20200417-192762-1mkb5mz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/328601/original/file-20200417-192762-1mkb5mz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/328601/original/file-20200417-192762-1mkb5mz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Capturing spiders in a bug net.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Heath Warwick</span>, <span class="license">Author provided</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>To my surprise, we found a massive diversity of them, including two species with a bigger range than we thought, and the discovery of another species unknown to science. </p>
<p>This is the first time two known species – <em>Maratus robinsoni</em> and <em>Maratus vultus</em> – had been found in Victoria. Previously, they had <a href="https://peckhamia.com/peckhamia/PECKHAMIA_206.1.pdf">only been known</a> to live in eastern New South Wales and southern Western Australia respectively. </p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/dont-like-spiders-here-are-10-reasons-to-change-your-mind-126433">Don't like spiders? Here are 10 reasons to change your mind</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>Our findings suggest other known species may have much bigger geographic ranges than we previously thought, and may occur in a much larger variety of habitats.</p>
<p>And our discovery of the unknown species (<em>Maratus inaquosus</em>), along with another collected by another wildlife photographer <a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/68921296@N06">Nick Volpe</a> from South Australia (<em>Maratus volpei</em>) brought the tally of discoveries to seven.</p>
<h2>What’s in a name?</h2>
<p>Writing scientific descriptions, documenting, and naming species is a crucial part in conserving our wildlife. </p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/spiders-are-a-treasure-trove-of-scientific-wonder-51048">Spiders are a treasure trove of scientific wonder</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>With global extinction rates at an <a href="https://conbio.onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/full/10.1111/conl.12682?af=R">unprecedented high</a>, species conservation is more important than ever. But the only way we can know if we’re losing species is to show and understand they exist in the first place. </p>
<hr>
<ul>
<li><strong><em>Maratus azureus</em>:</strong> “Deep blue” in Latin, referring to the colour of the male.</li>
</ul>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/328574/original/file-20200417-192749-u4u68x.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/328574/original/file-20200417-192749-u4u68x.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/328574/original/file-20200417-192749-u4u68x.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=614&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/328574/original/file-20200417-192749-u4u68x.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=614&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/328574/original/file-20200417-192749-u4u68x.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=614&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/328574/original/file-20200417-192749-u4u68x.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=771&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/328574/original/file-20200417-192749-u4u68x.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=771&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/328574/original/file-20200417-192749-u4u68x.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=771&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption"><em>Maratus azureus</em>.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="license">Author provided</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<ul>
<li><strong><em>Maratus constellatus</em>:</strong> “Starry” in Latin, referring to the markings on the male’s abdomen which look like a starry night sky.</li>
</ul>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/328573/original/file-20200417-192693-5qzp25.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/328573/original/file-20200417-192693-5qzp25.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/328573/original/file-20200417-192693-5qzp25.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=602&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/328573/original/file-20200417-192693-5qzp25.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=602&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/328573/original/file-20200417-192693-5qzp25.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=602&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/328573/original/file-20200417-192693-5qzp25.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=756&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/328573/original/file-20200417-192693-5qzp25.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=756&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/328573/original/file-20200417-192693-5qzp25.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=756&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption"><em>Maratus constellatus</em>.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="license">Author provided</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<ul>
<li><strong><em>Maratus inaquosus</em>:</strong> “Dry” or “arid” in Latin, for the dry landscape in Little Desert National Park this species was found in.</li>
</ul>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/328595/original/file-20200417-192709-11ql6xj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/328595/original/file-20200417-192709-11ql6xj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/328595/original/file-20200417-192709-11ql6xj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=689&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/328595/original/file-20200417-192709-11ql6xj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=689&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/328595/original/file-20200417-192709-11ql6xj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=689&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/328595/original/file-20200417-192709-11ql6xj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=866&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/328595/original/file-20200417-192709-11ql6xj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=866&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/328595/original/file-20200417-192709-11ql6xj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=866&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption"><em>Maratus inaquosus</em></span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="license">Author provided</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<ul>
<li><strong><em>Maratus laurenae</em>:</strong> Named in honour of my partner, Lauren Marcianti, who has supported my research with enthusiasm over the past few years.</li>
</ul>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/328596/original/file-20200417-192725-1hpepf0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/328596/original/file-20200417-192725-1hpepf0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/328596/original/file-20200417-192725-1hpepf0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=820&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/328596/original/file-20200417-192725-1hpepf0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=820&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/328596/original/file-20200417-192725-1hpepf0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=820&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/328596/original/file-20200417-192725-1hpepf0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1031&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/328596/original/file-20200417-192725-1hpepf0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1031&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/328596/original/file-20200417-192725-1hpepf0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1031&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption"><em>Maratus laurenae</em></span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="license">Author provided</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<ul>
<li><strong><em>Maratus noggerup</em>:</strong> Named after the location where this species was found: Noggerup, Western Australia.</li>
</ul>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/328597/original/file-20200417-192709-1csx3dg.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/328597/original/file-20200417-192709-1csx3dg.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/328597/original/file-20200417-192709-1csx3dg.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=543&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/328597/original/file-20200417-192709-1csx3dg.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=543&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/328597/original/file-20200417-192709-1csx3dg.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=543&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/328597/original/file-20200417-192709-1csx3dg.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=682&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/328597/original/file-20200417-192709-1csx3dg.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=682&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/328597/original/file-20200417-192709-1csx3dg.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=682&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption"><em>Maratus noggerup</em></span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="license">Author provided</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<ul>
<li><strong><em>Maratus suae</em>:</strong> Named in honour of photographer Su RamMohan who discovered this species and provided useful information about their locations in Western Australia.</li>
</ul>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/328598/original/file-20200417-192709-18ou4xv.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/328598/original/file-20200417-192709-18ou4xv.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/328598/original/file-20200417-192709-18ou4xv.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=761&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/328598/original/file-20200417-192709-18ou4xv.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=761&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/328598/original/file-20200417-192709-18ou4xv.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=761&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/328598/original/file-20200417-192709-18ou4xv.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=956&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/328598/original/file-20200417-192709-18ou4xv.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=956&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/328598/original/file-20200417-192709-18ou4xv.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=956&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption"><em>Maratus suae</em></span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="license">Author provided</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<ul>
<li><strong><em>Maratus volpei</em>:</strong> Named in honour of photographer Nick Volpe who discovered and collected specimens of this species to be examined in my paper.</li>
</ul>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/328599/original/file-20200417-192693-yhlri1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/328599/original/file-20200417-192693-yhlri1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/328599/original/file-20200417-192693-yhlri1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=774&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/328599/original/file-20200417-192693-yhlri1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=774&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/328599/original/file-20200417-192693-yhlri1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=774&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/328599/original/file-20200417-192693-yhlri1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=972&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/328599/original/file-20200417-192693-yhlri1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=972&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/328599/original/file-20200417-192693-yhlri1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=972&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption"><em>Maratus volpei</em></span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Nick Volpe</span>, <span class="license">Author provided</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<hr>
<p>These names allow us to communicate important information about these animals to other scientists, as well as to build legislation around them in the case there are risks to their conservation status. </p>
<p>I plan on visiting some more remote parts of Australia in hopes of finding more new peacock spider species. I strongly suspect there’s more work to be done, and more peacock spiders to discover.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/135201/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Joseph Schubert receives funding by way of employment from Museums Victoria.</span></em></p>“I arrived in Perth and bought a foam mattress for the back of my car – my bed for half of the trip. I stocked up on tinned food, and I headed north in search of these tiny eight-legged gems.”Joseph Schubert, Entomology/Arachnology Registration Officer, Museums Victoria Research InstituteLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.