Insect conservation is now accepted widely as a major need in considering Earth’s biodiversity, and the preceding chapters have summarised some of the major steps by which the discipline has gradually been fostered and become ‘respectable’ on conservation agendas through both regulatory (more widely, political) recognition and scientific worth, and through the dedicated guidance of individuals committed to the belief that the enterprise is worthwhile, even vital. Both ethical and practical grounds for conservation have gained wide acknowledgement, and policy has matured in parallel to accept insects (and other invertebrates), albeit in some cases reluctantly, in considerations of ‘biodiversity’. Whilst practical conservation is based, as far as possible, on sound biological understanding, and effective advocacy to gain public/community sympathy, much insect conservation has its origins in scenarios of very limited knowledge and unsympathetic perception of its worth. Many insects targeted for conservation have little tangible or practical value to people, other than idealistic wishes to prevent their extinction or declines, as part of our biotic heritage – and in some instances countered by advocacy to eradicate ‘bugs’ as pests, still the more common public image of insects in general. Campaigns for most species selected as conservation targets have been fostered through the zeal of single or few advocates, and the species are – almost by definition – rare and difficult to study quantitatively. Management has necessarily been initiated without detailed autecological knowledge of many of the species targeted, and refined by ‘on the job’ experiences as the conservation programmes develop and are refined. Much of the later development has served, progressively, to consolidate the initial templates for action, reduce the risks involved from management actions, and so increase confidence in the measures taken. And much of the wider progress in insect conservation has been driven by economic concerns and drawn on experiences from pest management, with the practical outcomes having serious economic consequences for humankind.

Understanding insect biology as a basis for informed and adaptive management has the rather distinct strands of ‘basic’ and ‘applied’ genesis, with conservation practice developing by drawing on both of these fields. Thus, pest management in cropping, pastoral and forestry arenas has provided much of the most detailed ­information on how insect populations ‘work’, and is progressively being integrated with wider environmental considerations that incorporate cultural controls and practices far less damaging than some of those more widespread in the past. Conservation considerations include, as examples, reduction of pesticide non-target effects and greater considerations of the safety of classical biological control agents: both of these represent important changes in philosophy of pest management, with the drivers including needs to consider landscape level effects and wider ­conservation issues, including the wellbeing of native communities and of any threatened insects known in the regions of treatment. Following from Howarth’s (1983, 1991) classic commentary on non-target effects of introduced biological control agents, with implication of their widespread involvement in losses of endemic native insects, considerable – sometimes highly emotional – debate has ensued on this practice, and continues (Barratt et al. 2010), with central relevance to conservation of insects. Many localised endemic insects can occur within the dispersal range and evolutionary potential for differentiation of introduced predators and parasitoids (New 2009) which are part of the alien faunal component viewed widely as threats to native species. Other forms of biological control, particularly so-called neoclassical biological control (in which the introduced agents have had no historical association with the target pests, so that their establishment is founded on new ecological associations, in itself evidence of flexibility and, perhaps, potential to further spread their influence into new communities), are also viewed with grave concern by conservationists. Emphasis on conservation biological control avoids the complications of alien species introductions, by employing only native natural enemies, but massive buildup of numbers or concentrations might still need to be considered if they are close to known populations of threatened insects that could be vulnerable – for example, by being phylogenetically related to the target species.

The many parallels between conservation biological control and conservation of threatened species were discussed by Letourneau (1998). Both involve preventing extinction and sustaining viable populations and ecological functions, and the manipulations of habitat and critical resources needed to assure this. In essence, the different priorities of primary producers and conservation biologists draw on the same background aims and practices, and shared experiences of how to benefit the desired populations and counter threats to them. A major conservation concern has been the decline of pollinating insects, with this major ecological process critical to primary production and safeguarding human food supplies compromised by losses of bees, in particular. Restoration of pollinator activity is receiving continuing attention.

Within the classical biological control arena, small isolated endemic faunas of major conservation concern have proved particularly susceptible to invasions (islands: Howarth and Gagné, Chap. 16), but elimination of aliens from such small areas may be practicable, as for rats on some New Zealand islands now important reserves for weta (Watts et al., Chap. 10).

Much of the foundation of insect conservation was based on concern over declines of single species, most notably butterflies sought by collectors and some assuming increased value as they became scarce and more difficult to obtain. And, although habitat changes have been the primary agent of decline, accusation over a century and more that overcollecting contributed to species losses has markedly offset the contributions that hobbyists have made to fundamental knowledge of the insects, and their widespread concerns for their conservation. That conservation must be based on site security, and progressive steps to reserve or otherwise protect critical sites have been augmented in some case by translocations or re-introductions of selected species to new sites or to historically-occupied sited from which they have been lost. Some re-introductions of butterflies, paramount the Large Copper (Lycaena dispar) and Large Blue (Maculinea arion) to Britain, are amongst the all-time classics of this aspect of insect species conservation, and both demonstrate the intricate biological understanding needed for success. L. dispar, for example, had been the subject of reintroduction attempts for many decades, without the realisation that the selected site might not be sufficiently large to support a permanent population (Pullin et al. 1995). M. arion became extinct in England just as intensive study around that time clarified the aspects of its biology that might have saved it (Thomas 1995), but that knowledge has since then assured that it has been reestablished successfully in the British resident fauna.

The taxonomic variety of species that have become flagships used to stimulate development of conservation interest is much wider than butterflies; it is paralleled by weta in New Zealand, for example, and the Delhi Sands fly, the Lord Howe Island stick insect, and the elephant dung beetle are amongst the many other examples noted in earlier chapters. The progressive outcomes have been the listing of individual species of many insect groups as of conservation concern, with criteria, details and formal obligations of regulation or legislation differing widely – but with the number inevitably representing only a small proportion of the species needing such attention, and the practical wisdom of increasing such lists (either legislative or advisory) to be more representative debated. However, almost all such protection includes a prohibition on (or very strict control of) ‘take’ of specimens. Well-intentioned in most cases, this condition is based on the supposition that removal of specimens (‘take’ in any of the senses defined by ESA, for example: Black, Chap. 8) is a threat to the species. In many instances it is unlikely to be so, particularly in relation to losses resulting from habitat changes but, in the case of tiny isolated populations already reduced through other factors, might indeed tip them ‘over the brink’ to extinction or increase chances of their stochastic loss. The outcome of such prohibitions has in many places been to deter the interests of hobbyists, so that the wisdom of taking this step without solid justification of likely harm is controversial and has sometimes led to loss of credibility, and alienation of the constituency whose aid is most critical in conservation. One consequence has been to reduce the amount and dissemination of basic information accumulating on biology, distribution and conservation need, because hobbyists in many instances have either ‘gone underground’ or sought alternative recreational pursuits. Particularly for butterflies and some families of beetles, formal prohibition of collecting can increase desirability to collectors and lead to black market operations with specimens sold at highly inflated prices. Debate will assuredly continue.

The needs to understand the habitat of insects targeted for conservation, in terms of critical resources, have become increasingly prominent in guiding management – with Dennis et al.’s (2006, 2007, see also Dennis 2010) discussions of these meriting considerable attention in demonstrating the great variety of these. Insect conservationists, and others, increasingly acknowledge that ‘habitat’ is not simply a place to live, but a juxtaposition of the critical resources needed by the species. Most insect species conservation plans have traditionally emphasised the roles of ‘consumable’ resources, as those most easily defined and manipulated, so that provision of larval food plants, and nectar plants (for Lepidoptera) or prey have dominated habitat restoration and management. Considerations of the ‘utilities’ suite of resources, some reasonably clear from observations of behaviour and distribution but others less defined, have lagged considerably.

In parallel, considerations of population structure have become more central, linked with the needs for wider landscape conservation. The revelations of metapopulation studies on butterflies over recent decades have changed perspective of the significance of many local extinctions of populations that were previously presumed to be closed. Integrating considerations of resource distribution and dynamics with those of population structure and landscape influences on connectivity, and planning for future influences of climate change imposes enormous challenges for conservation. Those considerations will demand considerable skills both to anticipate, and to manage. Climate change has rapidly entered the portfolio of threats to many geographically restricted species but, whereas some aspects of distributional change driven by this may be broadly anticipated, the future spatial co-occurrence and temporal synchronisation of the species and consumable resources likely to be affected differently by change are far more difficult to assess. Likewise, changes in local community structure as species move (or are driven) from their current ranges are almost wholly speculative, but resultant new interactions suggest that some ecological specialists, at least, may become more intensively threatened. In most cases, our current knowledge is insufficient as a template against which to assess changes in the future.

Many recent cases of insect species conservation have revealed that the resources available to prosecute management plans effectively are grossly inadequate: the other side of the coin to there being ‘too many species to deal with’. Government or agency support, be it of expertise or funds, has most commonly been allocated on a triage basis – with debate continuing over the most worthy criteria to adopt, but risk of extinction without such attention ranking highly. Calls for improved design of insect species recovery or management plans (New 2009) go hand-in-hand with needs for vastly improved advocacy and education to gain support for insect conservation. Such support is still lacking over much of the world, as an understandably low priority in relation to more pressing human needs: and conserving insects ­without any short term or tangible gains to the local populace is seen widely as impracticable. Incorporating selected species into wider conservation agendas, as attempted for the world’s largest butterfly (Ornithoptera alexandrae) in Papua New Guinea (New 2007, for summary) will commonly depend on perceptions of local benefits. Such measures depend critically on local support rather than being imposed by dictum of expatriate ‘experts’, sometimes historically without any practical knowledge of the scenarios they attempt to influence. Whatever the taxa, or the scale of conservation need, sustained sympathetic and informed participation from the local constituency is a major key to success, and is enhanced by wider national or international recognition of the importance of the project’s target species or biotope. ‘Friends’ Groups’ and similar focused support groups for individual species or projects are largely taken for granted in more affluent countries, and the organisational strengths and influences of larger bodies such as the Xerces Society (Pyle, Chap. 7) and Butterfly Conservation (Warren, Chap. 6) major catalysts to interest. Elsewhere, for south east Asian Lepidoptera for example, the ‘Hong Kong Declaration’ (2007) goes some way toward filling equivalent need, and cultural differences may also be important – the ‘Osaka Statement’ (1996) from Japan is another such case of local good intention, with such ‘bottom-up’ processes a major component of the process of successful insect conservation. The major problem is translating such resolutions from idealism to action. Almost any such endeavour depends, at least initially, on the zeal, tact and organisational skills of committed individuals, and it is impossible to overstate the importance of such individuals in foundation of several of the key organisations and support groups highlighted in this book. Conservation groups or sections within national entomological societies are gradually gaining more prominence.

Limitations of the species level approach necessitate complementary considerations of wider perspectives, inevitably sacrificing some of the detail that is the core of individual species conservation but emphasising guilds, assemblages, communities and biotopes at scales from local sites to broad landscapes. In parallel, exploring ways of integrating insect conservation with wider efforts will also continue, but increasingly with realisation that such umbrella efforts are by no means ‘automatic’. Presumptions of effective surrogacy are often unfounded, and management of areas for, as examples, large cats or primates do not guarantee survival of all the species of specialised insects and other invertebrates within those areas, as Haslett (Chap. 14) has also stressed. Visionary planning for networks of conserved habitats for the widest possible biodiversity benefits (Samways 2007) and to sustain or re-establish connectivity within landscapes merit the strongest possible support. The broadening of planning needed, now stimulated increasingly by the ramifications of climate change on distribution patterns, remains difficult, not least because of the intangibility of benefits to many people in areas where this approach is badly needed and is perhaps the only real option for practical conservation to occur.

Perhaps the greatest accompanying need is for enhanced efforts to survey (‘inventory’) insects and to monitor selected groups within a series of major biotopes and protected areas – simply ‘locking up’ areas, without appreciating needs for management to, for example, regenerate early successional stages or particular vegetation associations accomplishes only part of the task of conservation, and insects are instrumental in furnishing the information needed for much effective management. Many of the species noted in this book illustrate well their interdependence with resources that are naturally susceptible to change, and which will almost certainly disappear without such focused attention. The balance for the future is to attempt to assure that as much variety as possible is retained or regenerated in efforts to reduce extinction rates and lessen numbers and rates of losses of the habitats that support insect diversity. Calls for increased taxonomic expertise and understanding recur in this book, but insect conservation must proceed without complete knowledge of identity, richness, distribution and biology of most of the organisms involved.

Many of the major causes of insect species losses, broadly ‘threats’, have become well-understood, but their compounded influences are difficult to quantify. Rather few insect species extinctions have been documented firmly over the last century (Mawdsley and Stork 1995; Dunn 2005), and are presumed widely to vastly understate reality, with numbers and rates of extinctions increasing and forecast to increase further, particularly amongst poorly documented tropical faunas. Protection of remaining natural habitats, as above, is the most important counter to this, with the reservoir communities present – even if impoverished – the only signposts for future diversity likely to withstand human onslaught. Attempts to document tropical insect faunas along the lines suggested by Janzen (1997) for Costa Rica are infrequent, but habitats such as ‘totem forests’ in West Africa and maintained largely free from human interference (Larsen 1995) are unique sanctuaries for endemic insects, and others. The general global aim of assessing and conserving ‘hotspots’, complemented by a fully representative and comprehensive suite of more local reserves, and including assessment of selected ecologically informative insect groups on those considerations, could do much to firm the template for future priority. Without such broad measures, further losses seem inevitable. Likewise, emphasising the importance of sustainability of supply of insects exploited by people is a message easy to understand, if not always to transfer to practice – but is also one with much wider ecological relevance.

This book has summarised some of the ways in which insect conservation has made the transition from hope to science, particularly over the last half century. Many of the dynamic present-day scenarios for biodiversity conservation embed insects and other invertebrates firmly within their perspective, although there is still far to go for this to become routine. The foundation traced in this book, endorsed by newer appreciations of both the vital and practical ecological importance and the vast variety of insect life, emphasises that insects are not any trivial discard of human progress, but that their conservation is essential to the wellbeing of humanity within the natural world. Assuring that wellbeing must involve insect conservation, and the challenges to promote this through widespread education and involvement, backed by the best possible scientific and ethical understanding, remain to ensure that this is appreciated, and is a precursor to their effective conservation in the future.