Officials unleash surprising new weapon in fight against deadly mosquitoes in US: 'There's now evidence that it can be incorporated'
Officials in Southern California have come up with a plan to control an invasive mosquito species and the diseases they spread, the Los Angeles Times reported.
Scientists at local vector districts – agencies responsible for controlling disease-carrying species – applied a technique that's been used on invasive insects since the 1950s. In 2023, one vector district released thousands of sterile male Aedes aegypti mosquitoes across select neighborhoods to study the effects, according to the LA Times. The results were clear. Populations of the species diminished by 33% in one year.
The Aedes aegypti, also known as the yellow fever mosquito, is believed to have originated in sub-Saharan Africa. These bugs can only fly about 150 to 200 yards, but manage to travel internationally on freight ships and other methods of trade. They're considered invasive to other regions because they transmit diseases like yellow fever, dengue, and the Zika virus.
Aedes aegypti are distributed primarily across tropical and subtropical areas throughout the world. But the black-and-white striped mosquitoes have now invaded the southern United States and, because of the planet's overheating, are moving to the north and west. Right now, the mosquitoes are present in more than a third of all counties in California.
The idea behind the mission is simple. Male mosquitoes don't bite, and therefore can't spread disease to humans. Females are the primary culprits there. When the sterile males are released, the mosquitoes can still mate, but the females lay unfertilized eggs that don't hatch, decreasing the population size.
Vector district officials found that releasing sterile male mosquitoes into the environment was incredibly effective. Last year, a local vector control agency for part of Los Angeles County began releasing 1,000 sterile males bi-weekly, bumping the numbers to 3,000 during peak season from August to November.
"Many medium to smaller districts are now interested to use our approach," Solomon Birhanie, scientific director for West Valley Vector Control, told the LA Times. "Because there's now evidence that it can be incorporated into abatement programs without the need for hiring highly skilled personnel or demanding a larger amount of budget."
Should we be actively working to kill invasive species?
Absolutely
It depends on the species
I don't know
No — leave nature alone
Click your choice to see results and speak your mind.
Join our free newsletter for good news and useful tips, and don't miss this cool list of easy ways to help yourself while helping the planet.

Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
Yahoo
a day ago
- Yahoo
What Happens in Sierra Leone's Mpox Outbreak Affects Us All
Sentinel scientists collaborating to sequence mpox samples Credit - Kat Kendon—Kendon Photography A dangerous mpox outbreak is unfolding in Sierra Leone. In just the first week of May, cases rose by 61%, and suspected cases surged by 71%. Roughly half of all confirmed mpox cases in Africa now come from this small West African nation. The virus is moving widely, across geographies, genders, and age groups. And the virus is changing. Genomic analysis has revealed a fast-moving new variant of mpox—called G.1—that likely emerged in late November. At first it circulated silently but has since taken hold and quickly began sustained human-to-human transmission. Cases have been doubling every two weeks. Estimates suggest more than 11,000 people in Sierra Leone may already be infected. This is how outbreaks become epidemics, and mpox, as a pandemic, could be brutal. Mpox (formerly known as monkeypox) belongs to the same viral family as smallpox. It causes a disease that can be painful, disfiguring, and debilitating, particularly in children. In Sierra Leone, nearly all patients present with severe rashes, and about a quarter have required hospitalization; in some, the disease has progressed to necrotizing lesions. It's no longer rare, no longer contained to the LGBTQ community, and it has already reached more than 100 countries. Read More: Tedros Adhanom Ghebreyesus: Global-health architect Sierra Leone has been here before, at the epicenter of a disease outbreak while the world looked away. In 2014, Ebola swept through the West African region. A single mutation supercharged its spread just as it reached Sierra Leone. Tens of thousands died. Health systems collapsed. The global cost soared into the billions. The lesson? Delay is deadly. As infectious disease researchers, we've lived that lesson. For two decades, we've worked alongside colleagues across Africa and around the world to build faster, smarter ways to detect and respond to outbreaks. We were on the ground during Ebola, Zika, the COVID-19 pandemic, and recently Marburg—plus, many outbreaks that never made the news because they were stopped in time. Together, we've built technologies that track viruses in real time and trained thousands of frontline workers to use them. What once took months, we can now do in days. And now, in Sierra Leone, we are putting that progress to the test. This time, Sierra Leone isn't waiting for others to step in to do testing and sequencing—it's leading. Within days of the outbreak's escalation, local public-health teams and scientists under the leadership of Sierra Leone's National Public Health Agency—working with international partners including ourselves—expanded testing, began sequencing the virus, analyzed its evolution, and shared data in real-time. They also launched robust social mobilization and contact tracing that are helping to slow the spread. To stay ahead of the virus, teams in Sierra Leone are using powerful new tools. One is Lookout, our real-time national platform that fuses genomic, diagnostic, clinical, and epidemiological data into a single cloud-based system. As more data come in, Lookout gives health officials a live, evolving map of the outbreak, showing where it's spreading, how it's changing, and where to act next. Lookout is just one example of the infrastructure that teams in the U.S. and Africa have co-created through decades of collaboration. It belongs to a broader system called Sentinel, an outbreak detection and response network we co-lead, launched with support from the Audacious Project, a collaborative funding initiative housed at TED. Sentinel is just one part of a larger movement: scientists, engineers, public health leaders, industry partners, and frontline workers working together to build faster, smarter systems to stop outbreaks before they explode. But even the best systems can't run without support. Earlier this year, the U.S. canceled all funding to Sierra Leone and halted a $120 million initiative by the U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) aimed at strengthening epidemic preparedness in the country. The Africa CDC, U.S. CDC, World Health Organization (WHO) and other organizations continue to offer vital support, but with far fewer resources than before. Philanthropic and industry partners, including the ELMA Relief Foundation, Danaher, and Illumina, have admirably stepped in, but they cannot fill the gap alone. Today, local teams are doing so much right—with nearly everything stacked against them. The warning signs are flashing. But their resources are running out. Read More: 'This is About Children's Lives': Gavi's CEO Makes the Case for Funding the Global Vaccine Alliance It's tempting to believe this isn't our problem. But thanks to collaborative sequencing efforts, we know the G.1 variant spreading in Sierra Leone has already been detected in at least five patients across multiple U.S. states—Massachusetts, Illinois, and California—and in Europe. It may seem distant—like COVID-19 did at first—but it's not. Yes, vaccines exist, and they are expected to be effective against this new variant. But supply is limited, distribution is deeply inequitable, and the vaccines themselves present challenges—from limited clinical data and uncertain duration of protection to storage requirements—that make large-scale campaigns far from straightforward. West Africa has received only a fraction of the doses it needs. Without both vaccine access and real-time tracking, we're flying blind. Surveillance isn't a luxury. It's our first and best line of defense. Sierra Leone is showing the world what preparedness looks like. But it shouldn't have to stand alone. We can wait—again—until the virus spreads further. Or we can act now, support the leaders in Sierra Leone already responding, and get them the resources they need—like diagnostics, clinical support, vaccines, sequencing reagents, and frontline outbreak response—to save lives and cut this outbreak short. We've seen how the story of viral outbreaks can unfold. This time, with the present mpox epidemic in Sierra Leone, we still have a chance to change the ending. Disclosure: TIME's owners and co-chairs Marc and Lynne Benioff are philanthropic supporters of Sentinel. Contact us at letters@


Time Magazine
a day ago
- Time Magazine
Sierra Leone Is Battling an Mpox Outbreak. What Happens Next Affects Us All
A dangerous mpox outbreak is unfolding in Sierra Leone. In just the first week of May, cases rose by 61%, and suspected cases surged by 71%. Roughly half of all confirmed mpox cases in Africa now come from this small West African nation. The virus is moving widely, across geographies, genders, and age groups. And the virus is changing. Genomic analysis has revealed a fast-moving new variant of mpox—called G.1—that likely emerged in late November. At first it circulated silently but has since taken hold and quickly began sustained human-to-human transmission. Cases have been doubling every two weeks. Estimates suggest more than 11,000 people in Sierra Leone may already be infected. This is how outbreaks become epidemics, and mpox, as a pandemic, could be brutal. Mpox (formerly known as monkeypox) belongs to the same viral family as smallpox. It causes a disease that can be painful, disfiguring, and debilitating, particularly in children. In Sierra Leone, nearly all patients present with severe rashes, and about a quarter have required hospitalization; in some, the disease has progressed to necrotizing lesions. It's no longer rare, no longer contained to the LGBTQ community, and it has already reached more than 100 countries. Read More: Tedros Adhanom Ghebreyesus: Global-health architect Sierra Leone has been here before, at the epicenter of a disease outbreak while the world looked away. In 2014, Ebola swept through the West African region. A single mutation supercharged its spread just as it reached Sierra Leone. Tens of thousands died. Health systems collapsed. The global cost soared into the billions. The lesson? Delay is deadly. As infectious disease researchers, we've lived that lesson. For two decades, we've worked alongside colleagues across Africa and around the world to build faster, smarter ways to detect and respond to outbreaks. We were on the ground during Ebola, Zika, the COVID-19 pandemic, and recently Marburg—plus, many outbreaks that never made the news because they were stopped in time. Together, we've built technologies that track viruses in real time and trained thousands of frontline workers to use them. What once took months, we can now do in days. And now, in Sierra Leone, we are putting that progress to the test. This time, Sierra Leone isn't waiting for others to step in to do testing and sequencing—it's leading. Within days of the outbreak's escalation, local public-health teams and scientists under the leadership of Sierra Leone's National Public Health Agency—working with international partners including ourselves—expanded testing, began sequencing the virus, analyzed its evolution, and shared data in real-time. They also launched robust social mobilization and contact tracing that are helping to slow the spread. To stay ahead of the virus, teams in Sierra Leone are using powerful new tools. One is Lookout, our real-time national platform that fuses genomic, diagnostic, clinical, and epidemiological data into a single cloud-based system. As more data come in, Lookout gives health officials a live, evolving map of the outbreak, showing where it's spreading, how it's changing, and where to act next. Lookout is just one example of the infrastructure that teams in the U.S. and Africa have co-created through decades of collaboration. It belongs to a broader system called Sentinel, an outbreak detection and response network we co-lead, launched with support from the Audacious Project, a collaborative funding initiative housed at TED. Sentinel is just one part of a larger movement: scientists, engineers, public health leaders, industry partners, and frontline workers working together to build faster, smarter systems to stop outbreaks before they explode. But even the best systems can't run without support. Earlier this year, the U.S. canceled all funding to Sierra Leone and halted a $120 million initiative by the U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) aimed at strengthening epidemic preparedness in the country. The Africa CDC, U.S. CDC, World Health Organization (WHO) and other organizations continue to offer vital support, but with far fewer resources than before. Philanthropic and industry partners, including the ELMA Relief Foundation, Danaher, and Illumina, have admirably stepped in, but they cannot fill the gap alone. Today, local teams are doing so much right—with nearly everything stacked against them. The warning signs are flashing. But their resources are running out. It's tempting to believe this isn't our problem. But thanks to collaborative sequencing efforts, we know the G.1 variant spreading in Sierra Leone has already been detected in at least five patients across multiple U.S. states—Massachusetts, Illinois, and California—and in Europe. It may seem distant—like COVID-19 did at first—but it's not. Yes, vaccines exist, and they are expected to be effective against this new variant. But supply is limited, distribution is deeply inequitable, and the vaccines themselves present challenges—from limited clinical data and uncertain duration of protection to storage requirements—that make large-scale campaigns far from straightforward. West Africa has received only a fraction of the doses it needs. Without both vaccine access and real-time tracking, we're flying blind. Surveillance isn't a luxury. It's our first and best line of defense. Sierra Leone is showing the world what preparedness looks like. But it shouldn't have to stand alone. We can wait—again—until the virus spreads further. Or we can act now, support the leaders in Sierra Leone already responding, and get them the resources they need—like diagnostics, clinical support, vaccines, sequencing reagents, and frontline outbreak response—to save lives and cut this outbreak short. We've seen how the story of viral outbreaks can unfold. This time, with the present mpox epidemic in Sierra Leone, we still have a chance to change the ending.


Los Angeles Times
2 days ago
- Los Angeles Times
Marcos Magaña
Marcos Magaña is an environment, health and science intern at the Los Angeles Times through the CDLS Environmental Justice and Science Journalism Fellowship. He was born and raised in the Eastern Coachella Valley, a predominantly agricultural desert region in Southern California. His academic work has focused on issues closely affecting his home community, including environmental justice, spatial inequality and climate vulnerability, with a handful of articles published or awaiting publication in academic journals. Currently, Magaña is pursuing his doctorate at UCLA's Institute of the Environment and Sustainability, where he is investigating the biosocial dimensions of extreme heat exposure in low-income and racialized communities, with a focus on desert geographies. Outside of work and school, he enjoys watching Dodger baseball with his fiancée and playing on his friends and families' slow-pitch softball team.