The Nevada Bug Debate

Minding the Monarchs

It has come to pass that in the great and sovereign state of Nevada, where men wager fortunes on the roll of a dice and the pull of a lever, the common butterfly is left to its own devices, unprotected by the law and unburdened by the bureaucracy that so diligently tends to every creature with a backbone. This oddity arises from the simple fact that, under Nevada’s statutes, wildlife is only wildlife if the law says it is and has so far taken no particular interest in the affairs of the winged and the many-legged.

However, a most persistent faction of naturalists and scientists have taken it upon themselves to remedy this omission. Assemblyman Howard Watts of Las Vegas, no doubt prompted by an acute sense of justice for the underappreciated, has proposed Assembly Bill 85, which seeks to extend Nevada’s official hospitality to certain imperiled insects—most notably, the monarch butterfly and the Morrison bumble bee. The legislative crusade is a revival of a similar attempt in 2023, which met its end in the unforgiving hands of a budget committee, proving that in matters of state, money trumps moths.

The argument for insect inclusivity is sound enough as far as scientific reasoning goes. Pollinators are essential to the survival of crops, flowers, and life itself. Without them, Nevada’s many deserts would become even more desolate, its orchards barren, and its meadows—should any exist—entirely theoretical. There is talk of billions of dollars lost, ecological catastrophe, and grim futures in which Nevada’s native bees and butterflies are but a memory.

The opposition, of course, does not come from a place of malice toward butterflies but from a practical fear of the state’s coffers running dry. The Nevada Department of Wildlife, already overburdened with the care of mammals, birds, and reptiles, is hesitant to take on the new responsibility of herding insects, especially with only thirteen biologists to manage nearly 700 species. They would require additional funding, and herein lies the rub—fiscal notes are anathema in a government determined to keep its purse strings tight.

Thus, the fate of Nevada’s insects hangs in the balance, subject to the whims of legislators who must decide whether the flutter of a butterfly’s wing is worth a line in the state budget. Without management, these creatures will vanish, taking pollination services with them. Others contend that the federal government is always happy to step in where states falter, and surely Washington can mind the bees if Nevada cannot.

In the meantime, the butterflies flit, the bees buzz, and the legislators deliberate. Whether AB85 will soar triumphantly or get swatted down remains to be seen. For the moment, Nevada’s insects remain blissfully unaware of their legal predicament.