There was a swarm of interest this week buzzing about the ManhattANT, a little black and red ant unexpectedly showing across New York City. There is awe and intrigue in the discovery of anything new, and all the more when the spectacle is so accessible right beneath our feet, on the branches outside our windows, and scurrying along traffic medians right beside the flow of cars and pedestrians making their way through the city. But how did anyone realize the ManhattANT was unexpected in the first place; do we have any such special guests here in Providence, and what does all of this really mean?
Before answering those questions, we need to acknowledge that our concepts of the land, the language we use to describe it, and the creatures we encounter, are all strongly influenced by centuries of imperial colonization. Even the science of studying ants (myrmecology) has been tragically influenced by these traditions. When we discuss ants, we frequently describe them as ecologically dominant, “the little things that run the world.” The major media outlets reporting the story described the ManhattANT using negative rhetoric such as “invasion” and “taking over.” On the contrary, the ants have no agency in the process, and are simply doing what ants, and many of us, are doing; trying to make the best of the hand we’ve been dealt.
The common thought is that nature is only found abundantly in spaces designated as rural or wilderness, but cities are phenomenally wonderful habitats for lots of life, even if sometimes the kinds of life that thrive there aren’t always the most loved. My research lab has been surveying ants across RI for the last decade, and as of our last count, there are at least 40-42 species of ants in Providence. Among our smaller majority of mostly ground-dwelling societies are charismatic fuzzy ones, gregarious acrobats, cryptic mysteries, colorful, shiny giants, and more than a handful of species that we, too, did not expect to find here. The ManhattANT (Lasius emarginatus) is an ant commonly found in Europe. Although the atmospheric jet-stream circulation is a highway that picks up and drops off globally dispersing arthropods, these ants were almost certainly transported to the Big Apple as a result of our own human travel and commerce. They are no more invaders than they are hostages far from home. Among the ants in Providence, we can share similar stories about needle ants (Brachyponera chinensis) and big-headed ants (Pheidole megacephala), neither of which have a long history in our region but might be staying with us and Nibbles Woodaway for a bit.
We started out trying to ask how many ants we might expect to find here, and the answer was … complicated. In the process of studying them, we’ve been surprised by how often our intuitions have been wrong, how much the language we use influences how we structure an investigation, and how connecting with ants can help us weave together stories, science, and communities. •
Illustration by Danika Valentine. Follow Dr. Jane and her research lab on Instagram @antlabpvd or on the web at lovetheants.org.
