A growing number of neurodivergent scientists are drawn to entomology, but many face barriers in education and research. Esme Chiara, a master’s student in entomology at North Carolina State University, agues that better support and inclusion could unlock talent, strengthen science, and broaden perspectives in the field. (Photo courtesy of Esme Chiara)

By Esme Chiara

Editor’s Note: This post is part of a series contributed by the ESA Student Affairs Committee. See other posts by and for entomology students here at Entomology Today.

Esme Chiara

During one of my favorite classes at North Carolina State University, ENT 201 – Insects and People, Clyde Sorenson, Ph.D., always plays a scene from The Silence of the Lambs. Clarice Starling visits entomologists Roden and Pilcher as part of her Buffalo Bill investigation. The two men, who play chess with beetles and act as if they’ve never seen a woman in their lab before, are meant to be the epitome of “nerds” to the audience, characterized by their endearing eccentricity.

My own perception of entomologists, based on interactions with many of my peers, is less on-the-nose but still rooted in humorous stereotypes. I poke fun at my socially awkward friends who catch insects to photograph for fun, who dazzle others with bug-themed trivia, and whose idea of a good time is perusing keys to identify the minuscule differences between one species and another.

In all honesty, I am quite envious of those who’ve latched onto the right interest to obsess over, one that actually pertains to something useful for their careers. I often joke about my “atrocious” attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) and how it’s only helped me hyperfocus on sitcoms, film scores, and animal shelters. The reality is, it’s a disorder that can be quite debilitating, and I often question where my world of chaos and procrastination starts and ends because of it. Are my actions caused by ADHD, or have I just failed to develop any good task habits?

Neurodiversity and Science

I know I can’t be the only entomologist who feels this way. A growing number of life-sciences professionals identify as neurodivergent, which is a catch-all term for people with conditions that affect how they process information, such as ADHD, autism, obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD), dyslexia, and dyscalculia. Studies have found that a higher proportion of autistic individuals are attracted to science, technology, engineering, and math (STEM) careers, though they remain underrepresented in their fields.

This underrepresentation is often due to the obstacles individuals face when obtaining their degrees. While consulting literature, I found that difficulties for neurodivergent STEM students include trouble adjusting to overwhelming lab spaces, rigid assumptions about what makes a graduate student successful, trouble maintaining focus when a particular subject isn’t their passion, and burnout caused by overworking oneself to appear “normal” and maintain stability with their advisor and peers.

There isn’t much published research on the entomology field specifically, but neurodiversity is something we entomologists have noticed among ourselves. A 2021 Psyche magazine article by Alice Laciny, Ph.D., an entomologist at the Konrad Lorenz Institute in Austria, offered insight into why neurodivergent individuals might be attracted to the world of insects: sensory stimulation, the appeal of categorizing insects, and an affinity for the “small and strange.”

This last point resonated with me. As a literature nerd, I couldn’t help but think of the idea of “the Other,” the idea that someone or something is perceived as fundamentally different from oneself. Examples that come to mind are the Creature in Frankenstein and Bertha in Jane Eyre. The concept has historically been weaponized in several ways to create human and non-human outcasts, and insects are certainly a prime example of beings who have been “othered.” It makes sense that neurodivergent individuals may feel some sort of kinship with them.

I also find for myself, as well as many others who choose to pursue careers in the life sciences, that we don’t like to be chained to a desk all day. I don’t think I’ve ever done anything in a linear, organized fashion in my life, and so I know I’ll thrive in a setting where I have different sorts of responsibilities to be juggling throughout the week.

Why Neurodiversity Matters in Entomology

So, why does this matter to the entomology community, if so many of us seem to be “weird,” anyway?

Normalization isn’t the same as accommodation. We take for granted that many students come from different states or countries, learning to exist without their usual support systems. This is especially pronounced for neurodivergent students, who often rely heavily on routine and structure and may isolate themselves more frequently.

I’m lucky to be in a supportive lab with an advisor who helps me stay on track. However, I know firsthand what it’s like to feel as if you’re not doing enough while simultaneously being overwhelmed in an environment not designed for you. The never-ending list of tasks, lack of concrete schedule, and looming presence of a massive thesis tend to exacerbate the most self-destructive traits in neurodivergent folks. I personally tend to find myself in a state of action paralysis, followed by a frenzy of rushing through tasks I could’ve finished earlier. The opposite and equally distressing response is to throw oneself into a constant state of work out of the fear of falling behind.

That’s why I think entomology programs should implement resources tailored to neurodivergent students, so that they may find more stability and success. Initial ideas include scheduled group-work sessions or a buddy program for students who benefit from “body doubling,” which is working alongside another person on tasks to prevent procrastination. Large universities also don’t always make off-campus mental healthcare easy to locate, so department-specific resources would go a long way.

Neurodivergent or not, students aren’t equally equipped with certain skills when they begin their degrees, such as work-life balance strategies, maintaining an organized workspace, and preparing for conferences. Workshops on these subjects would benefit students enormously, while also fostering a more collaborative and accepting environment. It can be daunting watching peers be productive without apparent struggle, so it’s nice to know that you’re not alone.

I also believe that lab advisors should extend compassion to their students who process information or complete tasks in atypical ways. If a student is comfortable disclosing their condition, then an advisor should make the effort to understand how to help. An example could be checking specifically on work-life balance and working together to create deadlines, to make sure the student is completing tasks in a timely manner without feeling lost and overwhelmed. Open communication about a student’s strengths and challenges from the beginning, on both sides, will reduce frustration and anxiety for everyone.

Neurodiversity extends beyond education and impacts adults throughout their lives, so it’s also worth addressing what workplaces could do to set their employees up for success. Similar accommodation and mental health resources to those described above are a start, but I also imagine that a culture shift may be in order. Something I’ve commonly encountered myself, that I know other neurodivergent folks can relate to, is receiving task instructions but still needing a bit of extra clarification to get started. Even when I’m just being obtuse and unobservant (which is often the case), it isn’t useful to be ambling my way through an assignment because I feel too anxious to ask for more help. A person’s competence can only be measured accurately when they have a sufficient understanding of their responsibilities, and an effective leader is one who makes sure all their staff are on the same page.

Strength in Difference

Embracing our differences in ways of thinking and processing information also generally yields more research ideas and well-rounded solutions. A still-unpublished study by Laciny, Carls-Diamante, and Silani (2022) explored the impact that neurodivergent researchers may have on how eusocial insects are studied and perceived. They found that while autism quotient (AQ), or the number of autistic traits present in an individual, does not seem to be correlated with anthropomorphic bias (the tendency to assign human-specific traits to social insects), there is more likelihood of positive attitudes toward diversity in those with higher AQ’s.

Diversity in any field, especially a constantly evolving one like entomology, goes beyond recognizing that we all come from different backgrounds. In a 2023 New York Times essay, autistic scientist Temple Grandin argued that our word-centric society fails visual thinkers by removing the hands-on aspects of learning.

“If you’ve ever attended a meeting where nothing gets solved, it may be because there are too many people who think alike,” Grandin wrote, and I couldn’t agree more. Insects famously excel at rapidly evolving to counteract the control methods we throw at them, hence the ever-growing need for scientists to spend years developing new strategies. On the flip side, insect biodiversity is diminishing, and we need all the conservation help and out-of-the-box ideas we can get.

Though entomology is an incredibly essential field, I still feel like a bit of an oddball sometimes when I explain to people the career I’m trying to pursue. The comments like “ew,” “I could never do that,” “I hate bugs,” and other negative responses I’ve gotten create some sense of empathy in me toward those knee-jerk reactions, but I also want to defend myself (and the bugs). I suppose it’s human nature to react poorly at first to what’s unfamiliar, but I have a theory that a lot of people who stick with insects develop more open-minded tendencies toward everything in general.

That’s why being an entomologist feels like being part of a cool little club that admires these unique, misunderstood, and underappreciated creatures. If we can provide a friendlier, more inclusive environment for others who feel the same way, then that will improve our little circle immensely.

Esme Chiara is a master’s student in entomology at North Carolina State University whose current research focuses on the effects of tillage treatments on the peanut burrower bug (Pangaeus bilineatus), a sporadic but serious hemipteran pest of peanuts. She is from California (mostly) and received her B.S. in zoology from NC State in 2024. In her free time, Esme enjoys watching sitcoms, looking for reptiles and amphibians with her herp-loving friends, and serving as a volunteer mentor at her county animal shelter. Email: [email protected].