The testing of chemicals for a sterilizing effect is much more difficult than the testing of chemical poisons. It takes 30 days to evaluate one chemical—although, of course, a number of tests can be run concurrently. Yet between April 1958 and December 1961 several hundred chemicals were screened at the Orlando laboratory for a possible sterilizing effect. The Department of Agriculture seems happy to have found among these even a handful of chemicals that show promise.
Now other laboratories of the Department are taking up the problem, testing chemicals against stable flies, mosquitoes, boll weevils, and an assortment of fruit flies. All this is presently experimental but in the few years since work began on chemosterilants the project has grown enormously. In theory it has many attractive features. Dr. Knipling has pointed out that effective chemical insect sterilization "might easily outdo some of the best of known insecticides." Take an imaginary situation in which a population of a million insects is multiplying five times in each generation. An insecticide might kill 90 per cent of each generation, leaving 125,000 insects alive after the third generation. In contrast, a chemical that would produce 90 per cent sterility would leave only 125 insects alive.
On the other side of the coin is the fact that some extremely potent chemicals are involved. It is fortunate that at least during these early stages most of the men working with chemosterilants seem mindful of the need to find safe chemicals and safe methods of application. Nonetheless, suggestions are heard here and there that these sterilizing chemicals might be applied as aerial sprays—for example, to coat the foliage chewed by gypsy moth larvae. To attempt any such procedure without thorough advance research on the hazards involved would be the height of irresponsibility. If the potential hazards of the chemosterilants are not constantly borne in mind we could easily find ourselves in even worse trouble than that now created by the insecticides.
The sterilants currently being tested fall generally into two groups, both of which are extremely interesting in their mode of action. The first are intimately related to the life processes, or metabolism, of the cell; i.e., they so closely resemble a substance the cell or tissue needs that the organism "mistakes" them for the true metabolite and tries to incorporate them in its normal building processes. But the fit is wrong in some detail and the process comes to a halt. Such chemicals are called antimetabolites.
The second group consists of chemicals that act on the chromosomes, probably affecting the gene chemicals and causing the chromosomes to break up. The chemosterilants of this group are alkylating agents, which are extremely reactive chemicals, capable of intense cell destruction, damage to chromosomes, and production of mutations. It is the view of Dr. Peter Alexander of the Chester Beatty Research Institute in London that "any alkylating agent which is effective in sterilizing insects would also be a powerful mutagen and carcinogen." Dr. Alexander feels that any conceivable use of such chemicals in insect control would be "open to the most severe objections." It is to be hoped, therefore, that the present experiments will lead not to actual use of these particular chemicals but to the discovery of others that will be safe and also highly specific in their action on the target insect.
Some of the most interesting of the recent work is concerned with still other ways of forging weapons from the insect's own life processes. Insects produce a variety of venoms, attractants, repellants. What is the chemical nature of these secretions? Could we make use of them as, perhaps, very selective insecticides? Scientists at Cornell University and elsewhere are trying to find answers to some of these questions, studying the defense mechanisms by which many insects protect themselves from attack by predators, working out the chemical structure of insect secretions. Other scientists are working on the so-called "juvenile hormone," a powerful substance which prevents metamorphosis of the larval insect until the proper stage of growth has been reached.
Perhaps the most immediately useful result of this exploration of insect secretion is the development of lures, or attractants. Here again, nature has pointed the way. The gypsy moth is an especially intriguing example. The female moth is too heavy-bodied to fly. She lives on or near the ground, fluttering about among low vegetation or creeping up tree trunks. The male, on the contrary, is a strong flier and is attracted even from considerable distances by a scent released by the female from special glands. Entomologists have taken advantage of this fact for a good many years, laboriously preparing this sex attractant from the bodies of the female moths. It was then used in traps set for the males in census operations along the fringe of the insect's range. But this was an extremely expensive procedure. Despite the much publicized infestations in the northeastern states, there were not enough gypsy moths to provide the material, and hand-collected female pupae had to be imported from Europe, sometimes at a cost of half a dollar per tip. It was a tremendous breakthrough, therefore, when, after years of effort, chemists of the Agriculture Department recently succeeded in isolating the attractant. Following upon this discovery was the successful preparation of a closely related synthetic material from a constituent of castor oil; this not only deceives the male moths but is apparently fully as attractive as the natural substance. As little as one microgram (1/1,000,000 gram) in a trap is an effective lure.
All this is of much more than academic interest, for the new and economical "gyplure" might be used not merely in census operations but in control work. Several of the more attractive possibilities are now being tested. In what might be termed an experiment in psychological warfare, the attractant is combined with a granular material and distributed by planes. The aim is to confuse the male moth and alter the normal behavior so that, in the welter of attractive scents, he cannot find the true scent trail leading to the female. This line of attack is being carried even further in experiments aimed at deceiving the male into attempting to mate with a spurious female. In the laboratory, male gypsy moths have attempted copulation with chips of wood, vermiculite, and other small, inanimate objects, so long as they were suitably impregnated with gyplure. Whether such diversion of the mating instinct into nonproductive channels would actually serve to reduce the population remains to be tested, but it is an interesting possibility.
The gypsy moth lure was the first insect sex attractant to be synthesized, but probably there will soon be others. A number of agricultural insects are being studied for possible attractants that man could imitate. Encouraging results have been obtained with the Hessian fly and the tobacco hornworm.
Combinations of attractants and poisons are being tried against several insect species. Government scientists have developed an attractant called methyl-eugenol, which males of the oriental fruit fly and the melon fly find irresistible. This has been combined with a poison in tests in the Bonin Islands 450 miles south of Japan. Small pieces of fiberboard were impregnated with the two chemicals and were distributed by air over the entire island chain to attract and kill the male flies. This program of "male annihilation" was begun in 1960: a year later the Agriculture Department estimated that more than 99 per cent of the population had been eliminated. The method as here applied seems to have marked advantages over the conventional broadcasting of insecticides. The poison, an organic phosphorus chemical, is confined to squares of fiberboard which are unlikely to be eaten by wildlife; its residues, moreover, are quickly dissipated and so are not potential contaminants of soil or water.
But not all communication in the insect world is by scents that lure or repel. Sound also may be a warning or an attraction. The constant stream of ultrasonic sound that issues from a bat in flight (serving as a radar system to guide it through darkness) is heard by certain moths, enabling them to avoid capture. The wing sounds of approaching parasitic flies warn the larvae of some sawflies to herd together for protection. On the other hand, the sounds made by certain wood-boring insects enable their parasites to find them, and to the male mosquito the wing-beat of the female is a siren song.
What use, if any, can be made of this ability of the insect to detect an
d react to sound? As yet in the experimental stage, but nonetheless interesting, is the initial success in attracting male mosquitoes to playback recordings of the flight sound of the female. The males were lured to a charged grid and so killed. The repellant effect of bursts of ultrasonic sound is being tested in Canada against corn borer and cutworm moths. Two authorities on animal sound, Professors Hubert and Mable Frings of the University of Hawaii, believe that a field method of influencing the behavior of insects with sound only awaits discovery of the proper key to unlock and apply the vast existing knowledge of insect sound production and reception. Repellant sounds may offer greater possibilities than attractants. The Fringses are known for their discovery that starlings scatter in alarm before a recording of the distress cry of one of their fellows; perhaps somewhere in this fact is a central truth that may be applied to insects. To practical men of industry the possibilities seem real enough so that at least one major electronic corporation is preparing to set up a laboratory to test them.
Sound is also being tested as an agent of direct destruction. Ultrasonic sound will kill all mosquito larvae in a laboratory tank; however, it kills other aquatic organisms as well. In other experiments, blowflies, mealworms, and yellow fever mosquitoes have been killed by airborne ultrasonic sound in a matter of seconds. All such experiments are first steps toward wholly new concepts of insect control which the miracles of electronics may some day make a reality.
The new biotic control of insects is not wholly a matter of electronics and gamma radiation and other products of man's inventive mind. Some of its methods have ancient roots, based on the knowledge that, like ourselves, insects are subject to disease. Bacterial infections sweep through their populations like the plagues of old; under the onset of a virus their hordes sicken and die. The occurrence of disease in insects was known before the time of Aristotle; the maladies of the silkworm were celebrated in medieval poetry; and through study of the diseases of this same insect the first understanding of the principles of infectious disease came to Pasteur.
Insects are beset not only by viruses and bacteria but also by fungi, protozoa, microscopic worms, and other beings from all that unseen world of minute life that, by and large, befriends mankind. For the microbes include not only disease organisms but those that destroy waste matter, make soils fertile, and enter into countless biological processes like fermentation and nitrification. Why should they not also aid us in the control of insects?
One of the first to envision such use of microorganisms was the 19th-century zoologist Elie Metchnikoff. During the concluding decades of the 19th and the first half of the 20th centuries the idea of microbial control was slowly taking form. The first conclusive proof that an insect could be brought under control by introducing a disease into its environment came in the late 1930's with the discovery and use of milky disease for the Japanese beetle, which is caused by the spores of a bacterium belonging to the genus Bacillus. This classic example of bacterial control has a long history of use in the eastern part of the United States, as I have pointed out in Chapter 7.
High hopes now attend tests of another bacterium of this genus— Bacillus thuringiensis —originally discovered in Germany in 1911 in the province of Thuringia, where it was found to cause a fatal septicemia in the larvae of the flour moth. This bacterium actually kills by poisoning rather than by disease. Within its vegetative rods there are formed, along with spores, peculiar crystals composed of a protein substance highly toxic to certain insects, especially to the larvae of the mothlike lepidopteras. Shortly after eating foliage coated with this toxin the larva suffers paralysis, stops feeding, and soon dies. For practical purposes, the fact that feeding is interrupted promptly is of course an enormous advantage, for crop damage stops almost as soon as the pathogen is applied. Compounds containing spores of Bacillus thuringiensis are now being manufactured by several firms in the United States under various trade names. Field tests are being made in several countries: in France and Germany against larvae of the cabbage butterfly, in Yugoslavia against the fall webworm, in the Soviet Union against a tent caterpillar. In Panama, where tests were begun in 1961, this bacterial insecticide may be the answer to one or more of the serious problems confronting banana growers. There the root borer is a serious pest of the banana, so weakening its roots that the trees are easily toppled by wind. Dieldrin has been the only chemical effective against the borer, but it has now set in motion a chain of disaster. The borers are becoming resistant. The chemical has also destroyed some important insect predators and so has caused an increase in the tortricids—small, stout-bodied moths whose larvae scar the surface of the bananas. There is reason to hope the new microbial insecticide will eliminate both the tortricids and the borers and that it will do so without upsetting natural controls.
In eastern forests of Canada and the United States bacterial insecticides may be one important answer to the problems of such forest insects as the budworms and the gypsy moth. In 1960 both countries began field tests with a commercial preparation of Bacillus thuringiensis. Some of the early results have been encouraging. In Vermont, for example, the end results of bacterial control were as good as those obtained with DDT. The main technical problem now is to find a carrying solution that will stick the bacterial spores to the needles of the evergreens. On crops this is not a problem—even a dust can be used. Bacterial insecticides have already been tried on a wide variety of vegetables, especially in California.
Meanwhile, other perhaps less spectacular work is concerned with viruses. Here and there in California fields of young alfalfa are being sprayed with a substance as deadly as any insecticide for the destructive alfalfa caterpillar—a solution containing a virus obtained from the bodies of caterpillars that have died because of infection with this exceedingly virulent disease. The bodies of only five diseased caterpillars provide enough virus to treat an acre of alfalfa. In some Canadian forests a virus that affects pine sawflies has proved so effective in control that it has replaced insecticides.
Scientists in Czechoslovakia are experimenting with protozoa against webworms and other insect pests, and in the United States a protozoan parasite has been found to reduce the egg-laying potential of the corn borer.
To some the term microbial insecticide may conjure up pictures of bacterial warfare that would endanger other forms of life. This is not true. In contrast to chemicals, insect pathogens are harmless to all but their intended targets. Dr. Edward Steinhaus, an outstanding authority on insect pathology, has stated emphatically that there is "no authenticated recorded instance of a true insect pathogen having caused an infectious disease in a vertebrate animal either experimentally or in nature." The insect pathogens are so specific that they infect only a small group of insects—sometimes a single species. Biologically they do not belong to the type of organisms that cause disease in higher animals or in plants. Also, as Dr. Steinhaus points out, outbreaks of insect disease in nature always remain confined to insects, affecting neither the host plants nor animals feeding on them.
Insects have many natural enemies—not only microbes of many kinds but other insects. The first suggestion that an insect might be controlled by encouraging its enemies is generally credited to Erasmus Darwin about 1800. Probably because it was the first generally practiced method of biological control, this setting of one insect against another is widely but erroneously thought to be the only alternative to chemicals.
In the United States the true beginnings of conventional biological control date from 1888 when Albert Koebele, the first of a growing army of entomologist explorers, went to Australia to search for natural enemies of the cottony cushion scale that threatened the California citrus industry with destruction. As we have seen in Chapter 15, the mission was crowned with spectacular success, and in the century that followed the world has been combed for natural enemies to control the insects that have come uninvited to our shores. In all, about 100 species of imported predators and parasites have become established. Besides the vedalia
beetles brought in by Koebele, other importations have been highly successful. A wasp imported from Japan established complete control of an insect attacking eastern apple orchards. Several natural enemies of the spotted alfalfa aphid, an accidental import from the Middle East, are credited with saving the California alfalfa industry. Parasites and predators of the gypsy moth achieved good control, as did the Tiphia wasp against the Japanese beetle. Biological control of scales and mealy bugs is estimated to save California several millions of dollars a year—indeed, one of the leading entomologists of that state, Dr. Paul DeBach, has estimated that for an investment of $4,000,000 in biological control work California has received a return of $100,000,000.