Last March I received an unusual email from an Indian taxonomist asking to utilise my name for a brand new species of wasp: Hadronotus cookeae.
Being indelibly associated with one of the most despised creatures on the planet may not be everyone’s idea of an honour, but I couldn’t have been more delighted. I’ve always dreamed of being immortalised in nature and couldn’t have wished for a more fascinating, if misunderstood, namesake. Many claim not to see the point of wasps. But females belonging to species such as mine have the power to revolutionise farming and protect the environment from toxic pesticide pollution.
- Meet the fairy wasp, a particularly deadly parasitic wasp
- Meet the deadliest and biggest wasp in the world - complete with its scary 6mm stinger - and learn why it's called the murder hornet
It was fitting that this invitation should land in my inbox on Mother’s Day, as my wasp’s extraordinary value centres on her innovative approach to motherhood. Hadronotus methods may seem unconventional when viewed through mammalian eyes. But then we mammals have taken a rather extreme approach to motherhood. Mammalian mums are control freaks who’ve specialised in taking all embryonic management in-house. It’s the exact opposite with wasps, whose females are all about the creative outsourcing of care.
Most people will be familiar with the stripy picnic-botherers that devote their lives to tending young for their egg-laying queen (similar to bees). Eusociality is just one means of maternal delegation, though. Most wasp mums are solitary and have evolved a more gruesome approach to babysitting. Females lay their eggs inside the larvae or eggs of spiders or other insects. The wasp larvae then slowly consume their egg or caterpillar hosts, eventually bursting from their bodies, Alien-style, as fully developed adults.
These wasps are parasitoids – parasites that eventually kill their hosts. They are generally tiny yet their methods are mighty. The female wasp lays her eggs using an ovipositor shaped like a hypodermic needle that can pierce through tough exoskeletons or hard wood. In addition to depositing the egg, like a bowling ball through a hosepipe, many species also infect their host with a virus that slows down their development and can even control their host’s behaviour to suit the needs of the larval wasp slowly eating it from the inside out.
This macabre nursery is a specialised evolutionary affair – each parasitoid is tailored to its specific host, making wasps a candidate for the most biodiverse group on Earth. There are around 100,000 species, mostly parasitoids, and likely millions more. They are a feminist taxonomist’s dream. Whereas most insect species are described by the males, parasitoid wasps are generally described by the females, since males look much the same.
My wasp discoverer, Veenakumari Kamalanathan, has described 323 species in India alone. She says the thrill of contributing to the knowledge of insect diversity is ‘indescribable’. It is also extremely valuable. Parasitoid wasps prey on numerous insect species considered as pests. For example, they parasitise the eggs of the ‘rice bug’ that routinely causes about a third of Asian crops to fail, leaving empty husks instead of filled grains.
When utilised as biological agents for pest management, these wasps obviate the need for chemical warfare. They are part of nature’s arsenal, unseen by us but quietly going about the job of pest control one hypodermic stab at a time. They offer hope for the future of sustainable farming, which is why I’m beyond proud to have one of these macabre wasp warriors named after me.
Main image: illustration of Hadronotus cookeae by Holly Exley
Read more of Lucy's columns
- The planet’s ultimate supermom can produce 146 million offspring – squeezing out a fresh egg every few seconds
- It vomits up blood and urinates while feeding so it doesn’t explode – meet this bloodthirsty beast
- Kick-ass female zebra saves foal from infanticidal male
- Why do lions take so many sexual partners?