A study published last month by the University of Carolina at Chapel Hill reveals an ominous decline in insect populations. Even scarier, it's happening in parts of the world we assumed were safe from humanity's impact…
By David Sussin
A night with no insects sounds pretty good.
Sitting out with your drink of choice under the stars, maybe in the backyard, or maybe around a campfire.
In the brisk air round you there's nothing -- no buzzing mosquitos, no chirping crickets, no random beetles flying on you.
And even better, no deadly wasps or bees. Just calm silence.
Sounds pretty good until you notice the other details: stands of flowers unpollinated and dying. Trees bearing no fruit. Entire gardens left lifeless.
Of course, we need insects.
It's not hyperbolic to call them the architects of life on Earth. They pollinate 80% of flowering plants and a good deal of the crops that feed humanity.
A single bee colony can visit 2 million flowers in a day, transferring pollen that generates the fruits, vegetables, and nuts we depend on. Without insects, we'd face global famine.
But pollination is just the beginning. Insects form the foundation of nearly every terrestrial food web. They decompose organic matter, recycling nutrients back into soil.
They control pest populations, preventing any single species from overwhelming ecosystems. Birds, bats, amphibians, reptiles, and countless other animals depend on insects for survival -- remove insects, and these creatures follow them into extinction.
In healthy ecosystems, insects process leaf litter, aerate soil, and transfer energy from plants to higher-level predators.
They're nature's cleanup crew and delivery service rolled into one. Lose them, and forests stop regenerating properly. Dead organic matter accumulates. Ecosystems begin to rot from within.
Suddenly all that buzzing at night sounds comforting.
Except it might be ending sooner than we think. A study published last month (Sep, '25) by the University of Carolina at Chapel Hill called “Long-term decline in montane insects under warming summers”, reveals an ominous decline in insect populations.
Even scarier, it's happening in parts of the world we assumed were safe from humanity's impact.
For over two decades, the UNC researchers monitored flying insect populations in the pristine montane ecosystems (the middle level forests in the mountains) of Colorado's Rocky Mountains -- areas untouched by direct human interference.
These remote high-altitude meadows and forests were wilderness refuges, places where nature still functioned unmolested by human intrusion. Yet in this very place, scientists discovered a catastrophe unfolding in slow motion.
The study covered a 20-year period. During that span, researchers found insect populations declined an average 7%. By the end, 72% of the insects were gone. This isn't an expected, natural adjustment or fluctuation. It's a collapse happening in real-time.
The decline matches the rate found in heavily human-altered agricultural land. But now it's happening in the wild.
So why is it happening? Statistical analysis strongly links the trend to increasing summer temperatures. Daily minimums increased 0.8°C per decade, and as temperatures increased, the typical seasonal rise in insect abundance shifted to a seasonal decline.
But climate change isn't the only factor. The findings from this remote Colorado ecosystem signal a severe threat to high-elevation environments, which depend on insects to thrive.
It's what makes these results such a red flag.
The UNC study's findings of local insect decline is happening at a staggering rate, in a place where climate change and human activity can't fully explain it.
The results could signal the early stages of a planetary ecological breakdown so rapid, it would make previous mass extinctions pale in comparison.
If insects are disappearing from protected wilderness areas, nowhere on Earth is safe. Waves of extinction could crash over entire continents.
When insect-dependent ecosystems begin failing simultaneously across multiple regions, mountain forests lose their pollinators and decomposers, making them unable to regenerate.
You end up with dying wilderness around the globe. And without insects to control herbivore populations, plant communities will collapse, accelerating soil erosion. Watersheds destabilize. The very landscapes under our feet begin to unravel.
Bird populations, already declining globally, would face catastrophic crashes as their primary food source vanishes. Amphibians, already among the most threatened animal groups, would lose another crucial dietary component. The extinction cascade would roll upward through every trophic level.
But perhaps the most terrifying aspect is the speed. A 70% drop in just 20 years suggests we're not dealing with the gradual environmental changes that allowed previous ecosystems to adapt. We're witnessing ecological system failure happening faster than evolution can respond.
If this pattern holds globally, we may be looking at the sixth mass extinction happening not over millennia, but over decades.
The difference is that this time, there's no asteroid to blame, no volcanic eruption to point to. There's just the relentless, invisible pressure of a warming climate systematically dismantling the ecosystem.
Unlike previous mass extinctions, this one comes with the unique horror of being entirely preventable, happening while we watch, measure, and document the last days of life on Earth.
Could a loss of the insect population really drive these dramatic changes? We may find out.
In the meantime, listen closely when you go outside at night. The first signs of collapse will be the silence.
Sources:
<https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2025/09/250922074956.htm>
<https://esajournals.onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/10.1002/ecy.70187>