No cartoon world for leafcutter ants

No cartoon world for leafcutter ants

Leafcutter ants • Photo by Pjt56 (CC BY-SA 4.0)

Originally published 24 May 1999

Remem­ber those comics we loved as kids that fea­tured insects liv­ing in cozy cot­tages under the roots. Match­box­es for beds. Bot­tle­caps for tables. Thim­bles for bath tubs. Postage stamps for carpets.

Bucky Bug and his girl­friend June tend­ing a gar­den, with hoes made from safe­ty pins and a wheel­bar­row made from a pill box, match­sticks and a but­ton. Just like us, only smaller.

But even with­out the match­box­es, bot­tle­caps and but­tons, real bugs share lots of attrib­ut­es with humans.

Con­sid­er the leaf­cut­ter ants of South and Cen­tral America.

The ants cul­ti­vate fun­gal gar­dens in under­ground cham­bers. They leave the nest to cut bits of leaves from near­by veg­e­ta­tion. These they car­ry home, chew into a pulp, and use to manure their crop, a mush­room fun­gus. The fun­gus pro­duces “fruits” called gongy­lidia which the ants eat.

The arrange­ment works to the advan­tage of both ant and fun­gus. The ants scrape away the waxy coat­ing on the leaves which defends the plant against attack by fun­gi. The fun­gus digests chem­i­cals in the leaves which are dan­ger­ous to ants.

The ants tend their gar­dens with lov­ing care. When the time comes to start a new colony, a daugh­ter ant queen takes a bit of fun­gus from the parental gar­den and uses it to “seed” a new gar­den in a new nest.

Like all gar­den­ers, the ants must watch for “weeds,” in the form of an unwant­ed fun­gus that intrudes upon the food crop, pos­si­bly by hitch­hik­ing from out­side the nest on the bod­ies of the ants. If not con­trolled, these inter­lop­ers can destroy a garden.

The remark­able hor­ti­cul­tur­al habits of leaf­cut­ter ants have been known for some time. In an [April 1999] issue of Nature, a group of researchers work­ing in Pana­ma has added a fur­ther refinement.

The ants use pes­ti­cides to fight the “weeds.”

Antibi­ot­ic bac­te­ria live on the bod­ies of the ants, and are used by them to keep gar­den “weeds” in check. These bac­te­ria belong to the same genus—Strep­to­myces—from which are derived more than half of the antibi­otics used by humans. Humans, it seems, are John­ny-come-latelys to the use of gar­den pesticides.

Gar­den­ing. Manure. Crops. Weeds. Pes­ti­cides. It all sounds ter­ri­bly famil­iar — a trans­po­si­tion of the vocab­u­lary of human cul­ture onto insects.

In this case the trans­po­si­tion is gen­er­al­ly accu­rate, but some­times the use of human analo­gies to describe non­hu­man activ­i­ties can be misleading.

Ted R. Schultz writ­ing in Nature about leaf­cut­ter ants, says: “Rough­ly 50 mil­lion years ago in South Amer­i­ca, a lone species of ant aban­doned its prim­i­tive hunter-gath­er­er ways and, in a unique event in ant evo­lu­tion, adopt­ed an agrar­i­an lifestyle. Enter­ing into a part­ner­ship with a para­sol mush­room, these agri­cul­tur­al pio­neers learned to weed, manure, and prop­a­gate their fun­gal crops, ensur­ing a reli­able source of food.”

Although Schultz knows exact­ly what he is talk­ing about, the impres­sion is strong of a group of plucky bugs strik­ing out will­ful­ly to invent a new kind of life, nego­ti­at­ing agree­ments with fun­gi, hon­ing their agri­cul­tur­al skills with deter­mined prac­tice, even dis­cov­er­ing the mir­a­cle pow­ers of Strep­to­myces to con­trol pests.

But of course plan­ning and fore­sight have noth­ing to do with it. Nor does the mirac­u­lous inter­ven­tion of Prov­i­dence or expe­ri­en­tial learn­ing on the part of the ants. Even such high­ly com­plex liv­ing sys­tems as that which embraces the ants, their crop fun­gus, the weed fun­gus, and the antibi­ot­ic bac­te­ria can be account­ed for by nat­ur­al selec­tion act­ing on ran­dom genet­ic mutations.

In fact, this is exact­ly the kind of adap­tive bal­ance between organ­isms that one would expect of Dar­win­ian evolution.

Any­one who doubts the pow­er of nat­ur­al selec­tion to evolve aston­ish­ing­ly com­plex sys­tems need only wait and see. My guess is that the next 100 years will be the true Dar­win­ian cen­tu­ry, as we learn to apply ran­dom muta­tions and arti­fi­cial selec­tion to Dar­win­ian machines — huge­ly com­plex sys­tems of inter­act­ing agents, both ani­mate and inan­i­mate, that will evolve in unan­tic­i­pat­ed ways to solve prob­lems that can­not be tack­led as effi­cient­ly in any oth­er way.

Look for arti­fi­cial intel­li­gence, pur­pose-made drugs, sci­en­tif­ic the­o­ries, even arti­fi­cial life forms invent­ing them­selves by tri­al and error, with suc­cess­ful sys­tems pro­lif­er­at­ing in unex­pect­ed ways and fail­ures falling by the way­side. Look for webs of liv­ing neu­rons anchored to sil­i­con chips con­nect­ing them­selves to solve com­plex prob­lems. Look for DNA-based com­put­ers spin­ning out undreamed-of inno­va­tions. Look for robots that pro­gram them­selves based on their experience.

It’s spooky, maybe scary, but it will hap­pen. We have only begun to har­ness the Dar­win­ian par­a­digm for tech­no­log­i­cal pur­pos­es, mim­ic­k­ing arti­fi­cial­ly what nature does nat­u­ral­ly. The kinds of adap­tive com­plex­i­ty that took the Bucky Bugs mil­lions of years to evolve will pour forth with mind-spin­ning rapid­i­ty from human inge­nu­ity, sweep­ing us into a nov­el world that no one alive today can even remote­ly imagine.

Share this Musing: