The Problem with Butterflies
Will we become a country without our most enchanting insects?
THEIR BEAUTY AND GRACE alone would seem to warrant at least some measure of loyalty and reciprocity on our part. And that is to say nothing of how they’ve become iconic in our culture — from poetry to jewelry, spirituality to tattoos. So by now you’d think we would have found a way to get along with butterflies.
Nope, sorry. Despite their glitter and charisma, we humans are destroying butterflies in far too many places — and therefore making the world less beautiful and less interesting. During the first two decades of the 21st century, for example, butterfly abundance across the contiguous United States dropped 22 percent among 554 species.
Rapid, relentless, and occurring in virtually all regions, the decline is among the findings of a new and monumental assessment of butterfly populations in the U.S., conducted by an impressive team of scientists and published to acclaim this month in the journal Science. But here’s the thing about these results: They’re by no means surprising. The study only confirms what most of us already suspect or know, either from previous research or from our own experiences among these most endearing of insects, a few of which flutter on the verge of extinction.
For me, however, this latest journal publication only highlights a more troubling problem with butterflies — something you won’t find in this particular study or in others like it. No, not climate or pesticides or habitat destruction, although they are almost certainly proximate causes here. Instead, this is a problem of human nature.
Butterflies have flown on Earth for 100 million years — more than 300 times longer than we Homo sapiens have been walking around. They survived the mass extinction that wiped out non-avian dinosaurs, and then flew onward past various other cataclysms. It turns out that butterflies are more durable than you might think. And that they are now vulnerable or imperiled probably says less about butterflies than it does about us.
Humans are the most wonderful and horrible and fascinating species on Earth. We’ve given rise to magnificent (flawed) cultures founded on ideas of community and humanity — and then blown them all to bits in senseless wars orchestrated by heartless men. From the dawn of our existence, we’ve been bonded to nature, the most genuine thing in our world. And yet now, not only are we growing detached from nature, we’ve become so damned good at destroying it.
Butterflies are among the innocent victims. I need not give you all the unsettling details of this U.S. study — other than to point out that the analysis relies not on abstract predictions or sophisticated computer modeling, but rather on two decades of something simple and beautiful: people counting butterflies they see in the wild year after year. That includes scientists and people like you.
Community science projects and crowd-sourced data portals like iNaturalist, e-Butterfly, and eBird are among our more promising tools for the future of nature. They basically amount to big data meets conservation biology. And to those of you who participate, the scientists are ever grateful. Still, in some ways, especially among butterflies and other invertebrates, we’re discovering and reporting what’s here even as we bear witness to its demise. We’re counting deck chairs on the Titanic.
A Country Without Butterflies?
Yet count we must. Counting butterflies is an act of love and hope. We cannot protect what we do not know, especially on a big scale and in the face of some big problems. As the study suggests, the principal threats to butterflies are fairly clear (perhaps not insurmountable): habitat destruction, pesticides, and climate change (especially when it produces droughts). No surprises here.
Still, as I hinted above, I see yet another problem among butterflies. It became clear to me when I read the news release (from Michigan State University) about the publication of this new research. Its headline: “Study raises the possibility of a country without butterflies.”
In the war for our attention, especially online, this kind of hyperbole is by no means unusual — and in many ways understandable. No, we won’t become a country without butterflies. The study doesn’t say as much. It doesn’t need to. Its results are depressing enough.
Even so, I take the point because I myself have another angle on “a country without butterflies.” As a reader of Chasing Nature, you yourself almost certainly go about your life in touch with the natural world. Even if butterflies aren’t your thing, yours might be birds or plants or slime molds or anything that nurtures our intrinsic bond with what’s wild. I only wish it were true for so many more of us.
It’s indeed hard enough to be human, to be aware and caring and in tune with our families, other people, communities, world events. Now add to that challenge the new tidal wave of news, demagoguery, distractions, and even worthy information coming at us non-stop by way of glowing screens. Granted, knowledge is supposed to be good for us; sometimes I think it’s also killing us. At the very least, it seems to be diverting more of our culture and attention away from our bond to nature.
So to that litany of threats — global warming, habitat loss, pesticides — here’s one more: a crisis of awareness. Long before the digital age, the writer and lepidopterist Robert Michael Pyle called it “the extinction of experience.” It seems that the prosperity of modernity has come with a cost: more stuff to do away from nature, even away from something as simple as watching a few butterflies in the backyard. If only more people took notice of what’s flying around back there.
No, the problem is not that the U.S. will become a country without butterflies. The problem is that for far too many Americans it already is.
Postscripts
As it turns out, today is my birthday — and the day Chasing Nature is likely to reach 10,000 subscribers (many of whom support me with a paying subscription). Each and every one of you is a gift! 🎉 Next up for paid subscribers: An “Ask Me Anything” podcast. Stay tuned!
Because I had a broader point to make, I opted not to include in this essay details of the butterfly population study, which is titled “Rapid butterfly declines across the United States during the 21st century,” published in the March 6, 2025, edition of Science. Even for non-scientists, it’s a short and relatively easy read. Although the article is behind Science’s paywall, the Xerces Society (which has a coauthor on the paper) opted to release a PDF and supplementary materials. Otherwise, a decent news account is here, and you can read the news release from Michigan State University. 🦋
Butterflies in my montage above (clockwise from upper left): Common Blue (Polyommatus icarus), Canadian Tiger Swallowtail (Papilio canadensis), Little Metalmark (Calephelis virginiensis), Leonard’s Skipper (Hesperia leonardus), Red Admiral (Vanessa atalanta), Sleepy Orange (Abaeis nicippe). Second montage (from left): Ruddy Copper (Tharsalea rubidus), Baltimore Checkerspot (Euphydryas phaeton), White Peacock (Anartia jatrophae). All images ©
and photographed in the United States of America. 🦋My recovery from knee replacement is going well. Thanks to the orthopedic team at Dartmouth Health, and a flock of loving, supportive friends, I’m already walking around and birdwatching short distances in my neighborhood. I hope to be back in the bogs chasing rare butterflies this spring.🦿
Great essay, and love the flutter fotos. Also glad to hear the knee is recovering. My Irish music group plays tunes called "The Red Admiral Butterfly" and "The Swallowtail Jig", but I had no idea what the OG's looked like. They are incredible - thanks for that.
Happiest of birthdays and thank you for the great information and thoughts as always.