By Owen Tucker-Smith
They crept into his home en masse, climbing through the air-conditioning units, clinging to the window curtains, marching down the wall, trotting across the vaulted ceiling, lurking in the gloom of the basement. Jon Nixon had never seen so many ladybugs in his life.
The 35-year-old was taught these were friendly creatures. "You rub their shell for good luck," he said. But by the time his house in central Maine was host to hundreds of them this fall, Nixon was fed up. This was, he said, "too many ladybugs." Even for a fan.
"It stopped feeling like good luck, and started feeling like a nuisance."
The ladybug, once a treasured member of the animal kingdom, is six legs deep in a publicity crisis. The harlequin lady beetle, an invasive species of the bug infamous for its habit of burrowing in homes each fall, has proliferated in the U.S. over the past few decades, quickly becoming the most-populous ladybug in the world.
The harlequin lady beetle has helped farmers and gardeners control plant-eating pests, and defenders argue it is basically harmless. But its tendency to crawl into any available crack or crevice -- and to emit an unpleasant yellow fluid when bothered -- has tarnished the reputation of an insect that many cultures once celebrated as a symbol of prosperity.
Humans have adored ladybugs for centuries. In the Middle Ages, European farmers noticed the critters were devouring pests, saving their crops in the process. Convinced the bugs were a blessing from the Virgin Mary, the farmers are said to have nicknamed them Our Lady's Beetle, a moniker that has since been simplified to "ladybug," or in some cases ladybird or lady beetle.
The spotted bug has clung on to its cachet. It has become a popular Halloween costume and a character in a Pixar movie. A cluster of the insects is even known as a loveliness of ladybugs.
For Nixon, capturing ladybugs one-by-one with a piece of paper and a red Solo cup wasn't going to work; there were too many. So he removed the AC units, sealed the windows and searched for the best tool he had: a vacuum cleaner. Nixon sucked up a few hundred and deposited them outside.
The problematic species -- officially called Harmonia axyridis but often known as the harlequin or the multicolored Asian lady beetle -- originated in Asia and spends the winter there nestled in crevices on the sides of cliffs. It made its American debut in the early 20th century, when the U.S. government released it in an effort to control aphids.
The harlequin lady beetle is more aggressive than its peers, said John Losey, director of the Lost Ladybug project at Cornell University. Its ascendance has contributed to the population decline of various native ladybug species -- and more Americans associating ladybugs with infestation and invasion.
"The reputation may have taken a bit of a hit," Losey said.
That's because here, the bugs resort to the walls of houses as winter nears.
Zach Isenmann, general manager of STL Pest Control in St. Louis, said this fall's ladybug season has been worse than usual. "The phones were just exploding" with calls from homeowners who believed their houses were "being taken over," he said.
"You'll come out of your house and boom -- there's thousands of ladybugs on your wall," he added.
Ken Hendra stepped into the shed outside his home recently and witnessed a swarm of what he estimated to be 200 of the critters. He consulted his father-in-law, a naturalist, who broke the news to him: "Ladybugs are like cockroaches, but with better presentation."
Hendra, grossed out, didn't know what to do. Luckily, a cold-snap hit that evening, and his houseguests were gone the next morning.
"I am more than happy to coexist with nature," Hendra said. "I appreciate nature. But I don't want it crawling up my nose and down my back."
It's become an annual headache: Each October and November, Americans flock to the internet, complaining of infestations of the cute critters. Many of them, Losey said, assume the insects must be a different bug altogether, since "no self-respecting ladybug would come into my house."
The phenomenon is ironic, said Ric Bessin, a professor of entomology at the University of Kentucky, since ladybugs have traditionally been a symbol of cleanliness and order. Pest-control companies often include a ladybug icon on their branding to indicate the product is a natural means of keeping houses free from unwelcome guests.
"Lady beetles are very much a symbol in our society that we're doing things in a responsible manner," Bessin said. "However, they have the nasty habit of invading our most hallowed space, and that's our homes."
Back in Maine, Nixon hoped that with his windows sealed and his AC units removed, his home would remain ladybug-free for the foreseeable future.
It didn't. "They always find a way in," he said.
Write to Owen Tucker-Smith at Owen.Tucker-Smith@wsj.com
(END) Dow Jones Newswires
November 16, 2025 05:30 ET (10:30 GMT)
Copyright (c) 2025 Dow Jones & Company, Inc.
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