[intro ] Ants are one of the most abundant organisms
on land. They’re found practically everywhere. But not everything that looks or acts like
an ant/is an ant. They’re… ant-posters. Charlat-ants. Ant mimics. Mimicry is a pretty common ecological phenomenon, and it works in a lot of different ways. Sometimes it’s defensive, sometimes aggressive. Sometimes it’s all about how you look, and sometimes it’s all about how you act. There are a bunch of different kinds of mimicry, and most of them don’t have hard and fast
lines between them. But these creatures have mastered practically
all of them -- in order to look like ants. To start off with, let’s take a look at
the jumping spider Myrmarachne. Instead of the usual squat and stout form
a jumping spider might take, these little guys have evolved some extreme
body modifications. They’ve turned super long and skinny, all
the better to mimic an ant. The males of some species take it even further, evolving mouth-parts large enough to resemble
a worker carrying cargo. They’re so big, in fact, that the spider
can’t get venom through its fangs anymore. This kind of body modification is impressive, but also not super uncommon when dealing with
ant mimics. There’s even a name for this phenomenon: the Scrabble-winning word myrmecomorphy. As for why this spider would evolve to look
like an ant, it’s an example of what researchers call defensive or Batesian mimicry. Ants, though small, can be intimidating. Various species can be aggressive or bad-tasting, and can come equipped with biting jaws, venomous
stingers, or even sprays of acid. And they can use pheromones to summon more
ants. Whereas spiders are predators, but they’re not usually well-equipped for
defense. They don’t have armor plating or thousands
of nestmates to call on. There are a lot of animals that might think
a spider makes a pretty good snack, like birds, wasps, or even other, bigger species
of spider. Which means it might be safer to look like
an ant than a spider. These ant-mimicking spiders back up their
myrmecomorphy with behavioral mimicry too. They wave their front legs like antennae. They run zig-zag like ants. They even maintain this ruse when hunting. Instead of leaping at prey, they run up and
tap it, like a curious, harmless ant would. Then they strike. By doing this, they keep themselves safe from
those other spiders and birds, who might prefer not to tangle with the whole
biting, stinging, swarming ant business. There are species of katydids and cicada-like
insects called planthoppers with similar strategies. But those are still arthropods. Much stranger are the plants that have been
hypothesized to mimic ants in a similar way. We know that some plants mimic insects, like the bee orchid that tricks bees into
pollinating them. But scientists in Israel have also suggested that dark spots and flecks on plants such
as cocklebur and passion flowers might be ant-mimicking defenses against herbivores. But defensive mimicry isn’t the only way
to pretend to be an ant. An interesting possible case of mimicry comes with some species of spider wasps in Australia. Back in 1969, a scientist in Australia was
out looking at a bunch of small, metallic blue ants running about in the sand,
when he noticed one was walking oddly. On closer inspection, he also noticed two
little nubbins — wings. Or the vestigial remains of wings. Which would be unusual on a worker ant. And its “waist” didn’t look right either. This wasn’t an ant, it was a wasp. Now, wasps already kind of look like ants — they’re distantly related — but the lack of wings and exact color match made it seem like an almost perfect mimic. At first blush, you might call this another
example of Batesian mimicry — an organism mimicking a more harmful one
for defense. But here’s the thing: the wasps aren’t
defenseless They have powerful stingers. So their mimicry isn’t a bluff to make them
seem more dangerous than they already are. There’s another type of mimicry where two harmful species look similar to
each other, and both benefit because the overall signal
is stronger. It’s called Mullerian mimicry. It’s like how both wasps and bees carry
black-and-yellow warning colors. In this case, the wasp seemed to be sharing
Mullerian mimicry with the ant. Either by bite or by sting, predators would learn not to mess with little
blue scurrying things. That said, Mullerian mimicry of ants seems
to be mostly limited to… other ants. Evidence of this beyond a handful of possible
examples is a bit sparse. So far we’ve seen how spiders, insects, and maybe even plants use ant mimicry to keep
themselves safe. But some mimics don’t just try to pretend
to be an ant. They’re out to exploit -- and even eat -- the
ones they copy. Consider the somewhat uncreatively named large
blue butterfly, a species found throughout Europe. Like all butterflies, they start their lives
as caterpillars. But these caterpillars spend almost no time
eating leaves. Only about two weeks after hatching, the caterpillar goes down to the ground and
waits to get found by red ants. The ants, thinking it’s a lost ant grub, take it back to the nest, putting it in with
the other grubs. There it gets waited on and fed by the nurse
ants, mooching off their food. Some species are more aggressive, feeding on the real ant grubs. The caterpillars don’t even try to look
like ants. Instead, to pull off this con, they use chemical
and acoustic mimicry, mimicking the smell of the ants and the sounds
of their queens. This is a kind of reproductive mimicry — when mimics exploit the host to aid in their
reproduction. The most famous example is probably the cuckoo,
a bird that lays its eggs in other species’ nests. As for what the butterfly gets out of it, ant nests are well-defended, generally free of predators, and have a stable
environment. Not a bad place for a squishy little caterpillar
to grow up. Over the course of a year or so, the caterpillar will stay in the nest, growing
up big and strong at the expense of its hosts, until it pupates and emerges unharmed as an
adult. Another example of mimics flying under the
radar are the beetles that evolved to look like
ant butts. This beetle, called Nymphister, was only described
in 2017. They get around the forest floor by latching
onto an army ant’s butt as they’re moving. Curious researchers noticed that an ant they
were observing had… two butts. This may be an example of tactile mimicry. The beetle feels like the ant. Its size, shape, and shell texture all match
the ant, so other workers don’t notice. We’re not sure how the ant doing the carrying
feels about it. And we don’t know why they do this, though there are other piggy-back parasites
out there that can use the ants as protection or a way to get to new food sources without
doing any work. Army ants are fearsome, with colonies that number in the hundreds
of thousands of workers They nest only temporarily, going out in group
raids to capture prey like other ants, insects, and even small vertebrates. They’re just not something you want to mess
with. But for those who can, a colony of army ants
can be a resource in disguise. Enter the Aleocharinae, a group of rove beetles. They’re tricky to find out in the wild. Which could be because you have to go looking
for them in swarms of army ants. But they’ve evolved into superlative ant
mimics. Their waists have narrowed, their legs have
lengthened, and their antennae have even developed the
signature ant “elbow”. They even smell and act like the army ants, going so far as to lick and groom “other”
worker ants and even participating in raids. But they’re not there for defense. When the beetles get hungry, it’s the ants’
hard-won food — or even their young — that the beetles go for. This is known as aggressive mimicry. In aggressive mimicry, the mimic passes itself
off as something harmless in order to trick its prey into letting down
their guard. This seems to be a successful strategy for
rove beetles in particular. One 2017 analysis found it may have evolved
at least 12 different times in different species of rove beetle. But not all aggressive mimics have to change
their entire bodies to trick their prey. Check out this species of crab spider. Found in Thailand, India, and China, adult spiders prey on weaver ant workers. The spider’s strategy is to behave like
a dying or struggling worker. Other workers draw near to see what’s wrong. Then the spider pounces and runs away with
its victim. This is another example of aggressive mimicry. By doing this, the spider can get an easier
meal. Finally, remember those jumping spiders that
pretended to be ants for defense? One species in particular, the black-footed
ant spider, uses its mimicry in an even more interesting
way. Because it might have both Batesian, or defensive mimicry, and aggressive mimicry. It lives around Lake Victoria in Africa, and its preferred diet isn’t ants or bugs. It’s the squishy, nutritious eggs of other
jumping spiders. Problem is, it’s hard to get to the eggs without running
afoul of the adult spiders, who could attack the ant spider. But ants will attack and even eat these other
jumping spiders, so the spiders have evolved to be able to
watch for, recognize, and run away from ants. And the black-footed ant spider has evolved
to take advantage of this behavior. It shows up at its intended spider victim’s
nest pretending to be an ant. The other spiders, mistaking it for an ant,
will run away, letting the ant spider move in and eat the
eggs and young before the other spider realizes it’s been
tricked. So the ant spider has Batesian mimicry — the spider’s mimicking a scarier animal
in order to not get attacked — but it’s using this trick in order to trick
its prey, which would count as aggressive mimicry. It’s both a defense and an offense, an incredible example of how nuanced mimicry
can be. Life has found ways to use mimicry for virtually
every application we can imagine. In fact, ant mimicry alone is estimated to
have evolved at least 70 times. In many countries, more than 1 percent of
all spiders are ant mimics. If that seems like a lot, well, it’s estimated that ants may account for
a quarter of the biomass of animals on our planet. So if you’re looking for a crowd to blend
into, ants are a good option. It’s a big crowd to get lost in. Thanks for watching this episode of SciShow, and thanks to one group of people who don't
resemble ants at all, except in the sense that they are both numerous, and stronger
in a group. Yes, it's our patrons. Thanks for everything you do! If you want to get involved, check out patreon.com/scishow. [ outro ]
HE COULD BE YOU HE COULD BE ME HE COULD EVEN BE- gets head snipped off by another worker ant