The silent catastrophe: why insect decline remains the most underestimated problem of our time

While world leaders debate carbon emission quotas and GDP growth rates, a phenomenon is unfolding in nature that biologists call the «sixth mass extinction». Yet there is a crucial detail to this process: its epicenter lies in the world of insects. The decline in insect biomass is perhaps the most underestimated issue of our time. Its significance extends far beyond the field of entomology: it concerns a fundamental restructuring of the biosphere – one capable of collapsing the food chains upon which human civilization depends.

The Windshield Phenomenon: Why We Fail to Notice the Disappearance

Why does this problem remain in the shadows? The first reason is the so-called «windshield phenomenon», noted as early as the beginning of the 21st century. The older generation remembers that after a night drive, the windshield had to be scraped clean of thousands of insects. Today, this hardly happens anymore. Yet this disappearance occurred so gradually that it came to be accepted as normal. We do not mourn what we are not accustomed to noticing. Insects lack the charisma of pandas or tiger cubs, and most people feel aversion rather than affection toward them.

The second reason lies in the difficulty of measurement. We grasp climate change through temperature charts that anyone can understand. But how do we convey that insect biomass has declined by three-quarters over thirty years? Landmark studies, such as the research from German nature reserves – which documented a 76 percent reduction in flying insect biomass between 1989 and 2016 [1] – sound alarming only within scientific circles. To the average person, the phrase «there are fewer bugs» can sound almost like a welcome change.

The Price of Silence: What We Stand to Lose

Yet ignoring this problem carries catastrophic consequences. Insects are the «little creatures that run the world» (E. O. Wilson).

Pollination. Approximately 75 percent of global food crops, including fruits, vegetables, coffee, and cocoa, depend on insect pollinators [2, p. 303-313]. The decline of wild bee populations is already causing economic losses in the hundreds of billions of dollars annually and jeopardizing food security. We may survive a spike in oil prices, but we will not survive the disappearance of apples or almonds if there is nothing left to pollinate them.

Food Webs. Insects form the foundation of most terrestrial and freshwater ecosystems. They serve as the primary food source for birds, reptiles, and small mammals. Ornithologists worldwide document a synchronized decline in insectivorous bird populations: fewer insects mean fewer fledglings. If the base of the pyramid collapses, the entire pyramid collapses. When we lose insects, we trigger a cascading extinction event that will eventually reach apex predators and transform landscapes beyond recognition.

An Inconvenient Cause. The underestimation of this crisis is also linked to the fact that its causes are inconvenient for the dominant economic model. The death of insects is driven by a «death by a thousand cuts»: intensive agriculture with its monocultures and relentless use of neonicotinoids; the destruction of natural habitats such as hedgerows, heathlands, and meadows; light pollution, which disorients nocturnal insects; and, finally, climate change. Acknowledging the problem would mean questioning agro-industrial practices that prioritize short-term yield over long-term sustainability.

A Test of Maturity

The significance of this issue transcends biology. It serves as a litmus test of our ability to recognize slow, quiet crises that do not fit the news cycle. We have built a world in which we are blind to anything that does not promise immediate gain. We fear climate change because it will bring hurricanes and floods. But the insect die-off is a silent death, occurring unnoticed before our very eyes – in every garden, along every roadside.

If we continue to underestimate this crisis, if we fail to urgently transform our agricultural practices – banning the most harmful insecticides, creating biodiversity corridors, abandoning the ideal of the pristine lawn – we risk waking up in a world where orchards no longer bear fruit, fields are silent without bees, and spring mornings are no longer filled with birdsong.

The problem of declining insect biomass matters because it reminds us that civilization does not rest on abstract economic indicators, but on a fragile web of living creatures that work for us freely and invisibly – until we fail to notice their disappearance.