Wednesday, September 06, 2006

September 6, 2006--Off With His Head!

It’s that time of year again. After a summer of helping to rid gardens of pests, for Praying Mantises it is now time for amore.

It is, though, as with so many of us, a time also fraught with peril. However, just for males.

The NY Times describes the mating ritual in some detail—

“A male Mantis approaches a female, flapping his wings and swaying his abdomen. Leaping on her back, he begins to mate.” Thus far, everything seems in order. It even sounds remarkably familiar.

But then, “quite often she tears off his head.” Sounds a little less familiar.

There’s more—she then eats his head and moves on to devour the rest of his body, actually leaving over his wings. They must not taste that good.

Perhaps because he finds having his head devoured a turn on, the male Mantis continues to “perform” until there is virtually nothing left of him. (See Times story linked below, including, be forewarned, some X-rated photos.)

Sorry to be spoiling your lunch, but to scientists this is a curious piece of evolutionary, or intelligently designed behavior. In survival-of-the-fittest terms, how does this form of male cannibalism make sense? If this is the best thing male Praying Mantises can figure out to do when trying to get laid, one might surmise that with all the males so willing to participate in their own demise, that alone would contribute to assuring that PMs would wind up on the endangered species list.

But after years of close study and considerable thought, scientists believe they now have a pretty good explanation. Among other things, in the competition for survival, male Mantises that are willing to surrender themselves have a greater likelihood of seeing their genes passed along to the next generation. Those that hold back and are willing to play out their days as virgins find their genes unused. Also, since female Mantises get a substantial part for their nutrition from eating male PMs, taking a pass on a steady diet of aphids, those males who become food for their mates in this way as well contribute to the likelihood that there will be a next generation.

Scientists aside, as someone with a Jewish Mother I can certainly understand this kind of self-sacrifice, especially when it comes to dessert.

And as a late twentieth-century male, I also can understand this kind of Saturday night fever.

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