Don’t Kill (All) The Bugs!
We’ve all been there. A big, scary bug has the audacity to intrude into your home and now you are inconvenienced with the task of killing it. The response to kill in a trivial case like this one, is very much instinctive. Bugs are gross, we don’t want them in our home, and the quickest way to get rid of them is via assassination. But what are the ethical implications of this? When, if ever, is it justified to kill a bug?
Typical household pests include spiders, crickets, and mosquitoes, among others. While our first instinct might be to reach for the nearest shoe, these creatures have fascinating roles that extend far beyond just testing our fight-or-flight responses. Take spiders, for instance. Yes, they're pretty scary looking, but they're essentially tiny, freelance pest control operators. That spider in your corner? She's actually doing unpaid security work, catching mosquitoes and other bothersome insects that might otherwise be feasting on your late-night snack (or worse, on you). Crickets, while less helpful, are usually just lost. They aren’t smart enough to break into your home on purpose. Flies and mosquitoes, however, are a bit more complicated - they're the ones that might actually warrant our concern, given their potential to spread disease.
Now for the uncomfortable question: when we squish these creatures, do they actually suffer? This is where things get ethically murky, but it’s an essential consideration in assessing the justifications for their killing. Recent research suggests that insects aren’t just tiny biological robots running on simple programming. They exhibit surprisingly sophisticated behaviors that hint at some form of consciousness. While insects don’t have the same complex nervous system as mammals, they do possess neural networks that respond to harmful stimuli. But what’s interesting is that insects don’t just reflexively react to damage– they show signs of lasting behavioral changes after injury. An injured fruit fly, for example, might display prolonged protective behaviors that appear suspiciously similar to pain responses. With that said, there’s an important distinction between reacting to damage and experiencing pain or suffering as we understand it. The question isn’t just whether insects respond to harm, but whether they have some subjective and aversive experience to said harm.
This brings us to the philosophical part of the bug-squishing dilemma. In ethics, there is a distinction between moral agents (those who can make ethical choices) and moral patients (those that can’t make ethical choices but that still deserve moral consideration). Humans are moral agents - we can contemplate whether our actions are right or wrong and choose accordingly. That spider building its web in your shower? It's a moral patient - it can't ponder the ethics of eating flies, but that doesn't mean it's wellbeing doesn't matter. But it also can’t ponder the ethics of eating you. If it’s a case of concern for personal safety, it doesn’t matter that it’s a moral patient – our status as the more complex organism would have to take over.
Our special status as moral agents actually gives us more responsibility, not less. Just as we consider the welfare of infants who can't make moral decisions, we might need to extend similar consideration to insects - even if they're really testing our patience. But here's the practical rub: we still need to weigh competing interests. Your health and wellbeing matter too. If you're dealing with disease-carrying insects or have allergies to certain bugs, the ethical calculus shifts. It also makes a difference whether or not killing the bug is convenient. If it poses no active threat, and it isn’t within the reach of even the longest flyswatter, then killing it could be seen as, well, overkill. The goal isn't to let insects take over our homes in the name of ethics, but rather to think more carefully about when and how we choose to end their tiny (though not insignificant) lives.