❌

Reading view

Where have all the wasps gone this summer?

Dabuch/Shutterstock

Summer can be lovely – until a wasp turns up. Whether they present as an irritating picnic visitor or an uninvited loft guest, common social wasps are as much a part of our summer as festivals, sun cream and the growing despair of how to entertain children who’ve forgotten how to be bored.

But summer 2026 is breaking the norm, and there don’t seem to be many wasps about. As a wasp biologist, I’ve noticed it acutely, because my students need wasps for their experiments, and we simply can’t find them.

A second sign that something is wrong is the absence of wasp stories in the media. Wasps tend to be more active in warmer weather. Their colonies grow faster and bigger, and they end up making news headlines by bothering humans. This time last year – also a warm spring and hot summer – the media airwaves were filled with “plagues of wasps” stories. Now, even professional pest-controllers tell me it’s a quiet year with very few requests to remove wasp nests.

Admittedly, these are anecdotes not data: the Big Wasp Survey – the only national wasp monitoring survey – is yet to start sampling this summer. But the signs are not good.

If data back this up, their absence worries me greatly because – love them or hate them – wasps are important in ecosystems as pest-controllers, pollinators and decomposers.

So what’s happening?

Spring started well for wasps. In the warm, dry spring a glut of glorious foundresses – new queens – emerged from hibernation to start their nests alone, carrying out all the nest building, egg laying, foraging and brood rearing. This nest-founding period is a risky time. If a new queen survives until her first brood emerges as adult workers, though, then the odds are in her favour as she no longer needs to undertake risky foraging.

But spring 2026 was strange: the warm, dry start should have been good. Warm, dry spring weather improves a nest’s chance of survival as it ensures a good nectar supply for the queen to develop her ovaries and good prey populations for her to feed the brood. But we experienced unprecedented heat for the time of year, punctuated by cold, damp days and followed by unexpectedly chilly nights.

Such weather extremes may have caused queens to abandon their nests or die, reducing the initial spring queen bounty to a more modest population.

Temperature tolerance

And then came the heatwave. And another. And another. Some insects may benefit from this. Wildlife charity Butterfly Conservation is hoping 2026 could be a “bumper summer of butterflies” because warm, dry days mean uninterrupted foraging, mating and egg-laying.

But all insects have a thermal tolerance called critical thermal maximum (CTmax). If their CTmax is exceeded, insects succumb to desiccation, muscle spasms and eventual stupor.

For honeybees, this is around 49°C – which might sound high, yet ground surfaces exceeded 50°C in the UK heatwaves this summer. But the temperature doesn’t need to reach an animal’s CTmax to affect their productivity and behaviour. For example, bumblebee cognition and foraging efficiency are impaired by heatwaves of 32°C.

Bumblebee Conservation Trust raised concerns that 2026 may exacerbate a declining trend in bumblebee populations as flowers wither and bees fail to forage effectively.

Wasps are thought to be quite resilient to extreme weather. They are one of the most successful invasive species around the globe. And as a social insect, their thermoregulation behaviour (such as wing fanning to cool the larvae) and nest architecture (which has insulating envelopes surrounding the brood combs) may help buffer any environmental perturbations.

Insects also have waxy molecules called cuticular hydrocarbons that coat their exoskeletons protecting them from desiccation. Social wasp cuticular hydrocarbons change structure in response to heat, better protecting them from desiccation in excessive heat.

Their varied diets should also buffer them from imbalances in prey populations. However, their CTmax may be lower than other social insects – at around 45°C – which may have made them especially vulnerable to the high ground temperatures of the 2026 heatwaves.

Why are the wasps so small?

There’s something else that I’ve noticed: the few wasps I’ve seen are rather small. The adult size of many insects is fixed during their development, depending on the quality and quantity of food they receive as larvae. Wasps don’t get bigger once they’ve pupated.

The first workers to emerge in spring are usually small because the queen is limited in how much food she can provide for them alone. But by early August, the foraging capacity of the colony has increased exponentially, brood are better fed and the emerging workers are substantially larger.

So why are we still seeing “spring-sized” wasps? It’s possible that limited diversity and abundance of prey may mean their nutrition is restricted. The problem may also be more directly linked to heat. Insect larvae reared at higher temperatures will develop faster and reach pupation at a smaller size.

Global warming is thought to explain the trend in social wasps shrinking in size over the last 100 years. We could be seeing this in real-time this year.

How can you help wasps?

Share your alfresco meal with a wasp. When it approaches, don’t flap it away. Watch to see what it wants. In the absence of wild prey, it might be desperate for some protein (your picnic ham) to feed her brood. In the absence of flowers for nectar, it might be in need of something sugary (some jam) for her own nutrition.

My research team would also like you to share your wasp observations with us, so that we can better understand these important insects. Snap a photo of her eating and submit your data to the Wasp Picnic Survey 2026: Ham or Jam?. Keep the observations coming all summer. The wasps (and wasp scientists) will thank you.

The Conversation

Seirian Sumner receives funding from the UK government's Natural Environment Research Council (NERC) and the Biotechnology and Biological Sciences Research Council (BBSRC). She is a Trustee and Fellow of the Royal Entomological Society, and author of the book 'Endless Forms: Why We Should Love Wasps'

  •  

Keep calm and carry on: lessons from wasps on how societies survive power struggles

What happens when a leader suddenly disappears? In politics, business and other human organisations, leadership transitions can trigger intense power struggles. Rivals compete for control, alliances shift and institutions can become unstable.

Similar dynamics occur throughout the animal kingdom. Our new research on tropical paper wasps, published in the journal Animal Behaviour, shows just how chaotic leadership struggles can be – but also how societies can remain stable even while conflict rages.

Many animal societies revolve around a single dominant breeder. In cooperative paper wasps, as in many other social wasp species, dozens or even hundreds of females live together in a colony. But reproduction is usually controlled by one dominant individual: the queen. The other females help raise her offspring by foraging for food, feeding larvae and defending the nest.

Unlike in honeybee, yellowjacket wasp or ant colonies, however, these helpers are not sterile. If the queen disappears, any of them could potentially take over and become the next breeder. Often there is a queue – ladies-in-waiting, hoping to be queen. But succession isn’t always predetermined, and in some cases, it can become a contest.

How is the contest settled?

It was in a derelict building in Panama that we found the answer to this question. We experimentally removed queens from 19 wild colonies of the tropical paper wasp, Polistes canadensis, and watched to see what happened next.

The effects were immediate. Aggressive interactions between females increased sharply as several of them competed for dominance. The colony’s usual patterns of behaviour broke down and its dominance hierarchies rapidly became unstable. Rather than a smooth transfer of power, succession turned into a period of widespread conflict involving many members of the colony.

At first glance, this kind of turmoil looks risky. Fighting takes time and energy, and wasps distracted by conflict might neglect essential tasks such as foraging for prey, feeding larvae and maintaining nest structure and hygiene. Violent fights over leadership have been reported in other paper wasps, resulting in societal collapse.

But that wasn’t what we observed.

Despite the chaos, the colonies continued functioning. While some wasps fought to be queen, others avoided the conflict and instead stepped up their investment in foraging and brood care. They ignored the conflict and kept the colony running.

Cooperation didn’t disappear – it was redistributed.

One surprising finding was that the peaceful wasps didn’t appear biologically different from the fighters. In many animal societies, traits such as body size, age or position in the hierarchy help predict who will compete for leadership. For example, in meerkats the largest and oldest females are most likely to inherit the dominant breeding role. In naked mole rats, females already high in the hierarchy fight hardest when the queen dies.

Rodent with large teeth in tunnel
Naked mole rats live in underground matriarchies. Goskova Tatiana/Shutterstock

Read more: Of mice and matriarchs: the female-led societies of the animal kingdom


But in our wasp colonies we found no clear differences in body size, age or previous status between individuals that fought and those that stepped back.

This suggests the behaviour may reflect strategic decisions rather than fixed roles. Some wasps may judge that competing for dominance offers them a good chance of producing their own young, while others may gain more by assuring the survival of the brood, which are typically the wasps’ siblings. Investing in the survival of your close relatives is an alternative reproductive strategy and explains the evolution of helping behaviour in animal societies.

Cooperation during conflict

Social insects are often portrayed as perfectly organised societies with rigid rules. Honeybee and ant colonies, for example, typically have sterile workers, leaving little competition over who becomes the next queen. But paper wasps are different. Workers retain the ability to reproduce, and in the tropical species we studied there appears to be no “next in line” when the queen disappears.

Aggression-driven succession might seem too costly for a society to tolerate. Yet our results show it can work, so long as some animals compensate for the disruption by maintaining essential tasks. Even during intense leadership battles, cooperation can persist if some members adjust their behaviour to keep the system functioning.

The balance the wasps in our study maintained may be a common feature of social systems more broadly. When power struggles intensify, stability depends upon those who keep crucial work going in the background.

It’s easy to get distracted when political rivals are fighting it out, but, perhaps we should be shining a light on the unsung heroes who quietly keep things ticking over.

The Conversation

Seirian Sumner receives funding from UK government's Natural Environment Research Council (NERC) and the Biotechnology and Biological Sciences Research Council (BBSRC). She is a Trustee and Fellow of the Royal Entomological Society, and author of the book 'Endless Forms: Why We Should Love Wasps'.

Owen Corbett receives funding from the UK government's Natural Environment Research Council (NERC).

  •  
❌