Is our aversion to bugs a genetic instinct or the result of socialisation?

After killing a bug, I wondered whether our aversion to bugs is an instinct or a product of education. In the end, I came to the conclusion that bug aversion is the result of socialisation.

 

A few days ago, I was surfing the web on my laptop to kill some time in my dorm room. I had an assignment due the day after tomorrow, but I managed to push it to the back of my mind and was bored out of my mind, clenching my jaw and refreshing Facebook, when I felt an uncomfortable stare in my room. As I slowly lifted my head, my retina was engulfed by a grotesque black creature on the wall. Waving its two long antennae, the creature was a scorpion!
Instead of screaming, my brain began to work out what to do with the creature, and I calmly grabbed my roommate’s insecticide and sprayed it without mercy. No matter how hard the creature fought for its life, it would not be able to defeat the triumph of human civilisation. Writhing in agony, it made a desperate attempt to survive by cutting off its legs and fleeing, but it was worthless against the killing power of the pesticide, which was created by a combination of many chemicals. Soon the writhing creature ceased to move, no longer a living thing, but a chemical-soaked mass of organic matter, and I carefully placed its body in a dustpan and placed it on the dirt outside the dormitory.
I went through the motions almost mechanically, but a strong sense of scepticism swept over me afterwards. I had always prided myself on being quite fond of bugs. I remember being in the countryside, and when a colourful moth landed on my hand, I would stare and wait for it to fly away on its own. I also have proud memories of carefully picking up a spider that was spinning a web under my desk and releasing it out the window. I felt a sense of incongruity in my behaviour today, as I would not normally harm a living creature unless it was a pest that directly harmed me, such as a mosquito.
A few years ago, there was a boom in the internet. At the time, they were known as demonic insects that were incredibly prolific and wouldn’t die unless burned, and even then, they would leave behind new enemies in the form of lanternflies. However, being a bug-loving person, I researched the truth and found out that these facts were just rumours spread by elementary school students on Naver Edu, and that the hornworm is a harmless insect that rarely harms humans. However, regardless of my rational perception, I felt an obligatory urge to kill the louse the moment I saw it, and I acted on it. Rationally, there was no reason for me to kill the insect immediately. This irrational impulse must have arisen from a ‘disgust’ for the bug. There is no doubt that humans have a universal aversion to bugs. Even I, a self-proclaimed bug lover, have been driven to murder by this aversion. But where does this ‘disgust’ come from?
Is our aversion to bugs a product of our upbringing or an instinct imprinted in our genes? You can think of it as one of two things. At first, I thought it was hardwired into our genes. Obviously, some bugs are pests that harm humans, and individuals that dislike them would have an advantage in survival and reproduction, so natural selection would have passed down the gene for disliking bugs. If we end up hating other bugs that aren’t pests, it’s because evolution isn’t sophisticated enough to distinguish between them.
However, this initial idea soon collapsed on itself. If we argue that disgust stems from instinct on this basis, then non-human animals must also dislike bugs on the same basis. However, if you think of a puppy running around excitedly and playing fetch with a bug, it is unlikely that non-human animals have an aversion to bugs. There is no reason to treat humans differently from other animals in the genetic discussion. So my initial hypothesis is naturally rejected, and my conclusion leans towards the idea that disgust is a product of education.
There are a few more reasons to think this way. In our immediate lives, a child raised in the countryside is obviously less disgusted by bugs than a child raised in the city, and we can only assume that this difference arises from differences in environment.
Also, in our society, women generally have a much stronger aversion to bugs than men. Again, it’s hard to see why this would be an innate difference. I believe that these differences are due to the environment, especially cultural demands. This is because our society’s frame of femininity is geared towards such behaviour. These cultural pressures shape our behaviour.
In the end, my conclusion is that our aversion to bugs is a product of our education. More specifically, this aversion is ingrained in us as we imitate the behaviour of our parents and surroundings and conform to social and cultural demands and moods. People like me, who have a weak sense of disgust, probably have a weaker education and socialisation, or rational thinking is more action-based, but when I think back to today, when I finally killed the scorpionfish out of disgust, I realise that my previous self was just a mere pretence of strength.
You might think that I eat meat every day without thinking about it, and that I’m in trouble for killing one. However, this small but interesting reflection provided me with a justification for seeing and killing a lobster, contrary to my usual beliefs, and was an enjoyable experience in itself, even if I didn’t find any use for it.
So my attempt to kill time by simply surfing the web ended up with a reflection that was by no means useful. However, rather than killing time by surfing the web, I can consider myself lucky to have found a small amount of happiness on this podium, albeit a rather cruel happiness built on the carcass of a lobster, and I end this article by expressing my profound gratitude to the lobster for giving me such a fresh experience.