You see that spider creeping across the floor and
you jump on it, smashing that puppy so flat that it would be hard to find
all the pieces.
But that’s like sticking a dagger in the heart
of entomologist Linda Rayor of Cornell University, a self-confessed spider
freak.
“I don’t understand it,” Rayor says of the
human desire to destroy these animals that play such a crucial role in our
environment, including eating insects that can do a lot more damage.
Maybe, she says, it’s because they are
perceived as being hairy. Maybe it’s because they have eight legs that
move in strange ways. Maybe it’s the eight eyes covering their faces.
Maybe it’s the silk in their webs that we always seem to run into while
ducking under a tree limb.
And maybe it’s because so many well meaning
moms have chided their children to be wary of creepy, crawly things that
can — in relatively rare cases — actually cause harm to humans.
A Bad Rep
“Spiders overwhelmingly get bad press,” says Rayor, who claims she has
never been bitten in 21 years of researching spiders.
You’re far more likely to die from a bee sting
than a spider bite, because most spiders can’t even penetrate human
skin. Only a few are poisonous to humans, and we are always their
unintended victims, not their targets.
And talk about industrious. Many spiders build a
new web each day to capture insects, then tear it down at the end of the
day, only to start all over again the next day. It is that particular
activity that has fascinated Rayor for two decades.
Most spider species are loners, avoiding contact
with other spiders except for mating, after which the female frequently
eats her mate. Cannibalism is common in the spider world, and that surely
discourages the development of a spider society. Of the 38,000 or so known
species of spiders, less than 40 species “show any indication of social
behavior at all,” Rayor says.
That scarcity has taken her repeatedly to Mexico
to study colonies of spiders that have surprisingly complex social
structures. Unlike most spiders, the Metepeira incrassata live in colonies
where individual spiders spin hundreds or even thousands of webs every
day.
The size of the web is crucial, because if it’s
too small, there will be no prey captured that day, and the spider will go
hungry. How, Rayor wondered, do the spiders work out the rules that allow
them to build individual webs without killing each other?
So Rayor returned to Mexico recently, along with
her collaborator, biologist George W. Uetz of the University of
Cincinnati, to take a closer look at a rare creature that Uetz has studied
for 21 years.
“We had envisioned that every morning the
spiders would wake up and get ready to build their webs, fight for the key
positions, and there would be this awful battle,” says Rayor, whose
research is sponsored by the National Science Foundation.
Big,
Early-Rising Females
But they found something quite different. It turns out that the colony is
dominated by big females who know that only the early bird is likely to
get the worm. The big spiders stake out their territory early, building
their webs by about 6 a.m. It takes about an hour of uninterrupted labor.
Those who show up a little later are forced to
the periphery of the colony where the threat from predators, mainly wasps,
is greater, but food is more plentiful. Females with egg sacs show up the
earliest of all because they can’t move around, and are usually finished
45 minutes before anyone else.
Rayor says she learned a valuable lesson while
studying the colonial spiders. These creatures apparently have learned
that confrontation doesn’t pay. Better to spend their efforts spinning
webs some distance from those who have already staked out the territory
than to risk being devoured.
“There was one time when I needed to collect
hundreds of spiders and I crawled into the center of a colony and there
were spiders literally all over me. At least a couple of hundred. I was
feeling very macho about the whole process, and not one of them bit me.
“I was absolutely covered with spiders, and
with silk, and it was really cool,” she adds.
Even if they had tried to bite her, Rayor
wouldn’t have known, because like most spiders, their fangs are not long
enough to penetrate human skin.
And that brings us back to the reason spiders
have had such bad press.
The Bad
Pack
Some spiders do bite if brought into direct contact with humans. You can
tell if it’s a spider bite because spiders use both fangs, so there
would be two puncture wounds, not one. If there’s only one, it was some
insect, not a spider. Most bites are not venomous, but only irritating.
There are, of course, exceptions. Some deadly
biters include the black widow, found in all four deserts of the
Southwest, the brown recluse spider (also known as the violin spider),
found in the southwestern and midwestern United States. A relative
newcomer in North America is the hobo spider, which hitched a ride from
Europe on a ship that docked in Seattle around 1930. Hobo has since spread
to several states in the Northwest.
Some others can cause significant discomfort,
like the tarantula, which to many appears ugly enough to be fatal, but
isn’t. Tarantulas eat scorpions, by the way, which can be far more
harmful.
Fatalities from spider bites are extremely rare,
and treatments are readily available in the geographical areas where the
spiders are found.
Good
Times, Romance and Spiders
So spiders are not all that dangerous, and they provide valuable service
to our environment. They should be loved, not loathed, Rayor says. Of
course, she was destined to believe that almost from the beginning.
As a graduate student at the University of
Kansas, she turned up one day with a box full of spiders and showed them
to her fellow students of entomology.
“They were just snooty about it,” she says.
“But I didn’t realize then that spiders weren’t insects.”
Anyhow, she linked up with a “handsome graduate
student who was also interested in spiders.” Today, that student is
entomologist Cole Gilbert of Cornell. And he’s Rayor’s husband.
“So spiders are linked with good times,
romance, and interesting biology,” Rayor says.
Ah, shucks, how could anybody ever step on one
after hearing that. 
Lee Dye’s column appears weekly on ABCNEWS.com. A former science
writer for the Los Angeles Times, he now lives in Juneau, Alaska.