The insectostance is intended to offer certainty amidst the chaos. A firm platform to rest upon as the swimmer studies the waves. It is a means of looking at and being in the world: a conscious decision to adopt the psychological standpoint of the individual amidst the crowd. The simplest example is that of an ant. When viewing an ant colony, the insectostance asks you to perceive it as if you were an individual ant with an individual ant’s needs and desires. It asks you to look at the crowd, pick out a single member and acknowledge that they have validity as an individual.

The premise of Timothy Morton’s hyperobjects is that the physical and intellectual enormity of certain phenomena require reclassification as they cannot be easily reconciled with our preconceived perceptions about our place in the world. The insectostance suggests that the little things have similar capacity for profundity, however lacking they are in melodrama. The difference, of course, is that hyperobjects have a unique agency. Their presence forces us to reevaluate ourselves and our world; the adoption of the insectostance is a choice. It is, however, a good choice. The extra-large can be intimidating because it is so difficult to grasp, but the extra-small can be held comfortably within our minds. The only danger is that it may slip past our notice.

Though not limited to bugs and beetles, the concept of the insectostance was born in the insect world. The lives of the little creatures were largely invisible to me before my research. I did not expect to be able to recognise all the different insect species, but the fact that thousands remain nameless to humankind is absurd. Just as the fact that a disproportionate number of them are facing extinction is terrifying. I did not have an appropriate lens for processing the problem. Insects number in the billions, and I am not predisposed to feel empathetic towards a fly. The issue was too big, too unappealing, too distant. I needed something more accessible, something smaller. I was struck by the peculiarity of insect vision. The physical difference in the function of a bug’s eye, with its many lenses and wider gaze, seemed to signify a different way of seeing that went beyond the physical. Logically, it seems obvious that an insect does not see the world in the same manner as a human, but the difference I saw in the insect’s eye confirmed it. I found myself asking what it would be like to see like them.

Of course, we can never manage that with any degree of authenticity. Thomas Nagel is clear on that. But there is value in trying. In attempting to adopt the perspective of the little guy, be it an insect or any other creature lost in a crowd, we gain a sympathy for them. We look beyond ourselves. We grasp at empathy and rediscover awe. Grounded in the individual stance, we can marvel at the world without fear of being consumed by it. That is the power of the insectostance.