California needs to go nuclear on mosquitos — and we have the solution

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Artificial Intelligence has a major PR problem right now, but if tech bros want to rebrand their maligned technology, they should solve a critical problem all of Southern California is struggling with:

Ankle biters. 

And no, I don’t mean the guy who pitches his screenplay to everyone at brunch in WeHo. I’m talking about Aedes aegypti mosquitoes. They’re teeny, bite day and night, can make hundreds of babies in a tiny bottle cap, and feed on feet in a city that lives in sandals all year long.  

I’ve lived in Southern California for most of my life — minus a decade in San Francisco’s tech scene — and it’s never been this horrible. That’s because our warm-weather whiplash, the horrid humidity and the El Niño have kept Aedes happily breeding year-round. 

And those slutty little Draculas are still getting it on like they’re in an episode of Love Island.

They’re worse than that lovable Culex mosquito variety we grew up with, because those only come out at night and at dusk, and prefer birds over ankles. 

These new guys are out biting all day long, and creating bigger welts. They love human blood, and bite you multiple times, often around your feet. 

Aedes are making themselves quite at home year-round now. 

While visiting my folks in the San Fernando Valley, the mosquitoes ran us off the patio at The Rib Ranch, a local favorite. We moved inside, and they followed us in (I guess they love that place just as much as true Angelenos). 

It made the weekend trip unbearable, because we couldn’t even go for a walk without getting hounded. I thought it was bad where I live in Temecula wine country, since it’s more rural, but this was 10 times worse. 

And they’re not just a nuisance — they can give you dengue, chikungunya and Zika.  The Culex ones can give you West Nile. 

In fact, Los Angeles County just saw the highest number of West Nile cases in a decade. Someone in my circle had it, and if you’re one of the unlucky ones, it feels like a stroke. There’s even been 19 deaths. 

But California is a center of innovation. LA County Vector Control has been spraying insecticide and setting “thirst traps.” Called the SIT method, they release male mosquitoes that don’t bite, and that they’ve sterilized with X-rays or radiation to hook up with the female mosquitoes and then ghost them. The eggs never hatch. 

It’s the most Southern California public health strategy I’ve ever heard. 

If this weather pattern becomes common, I predict that in the next decade, Southern California will be overrun with “mosquito tech.” 

Like Sarah Connor, I see our future, and it looks like “anti-mosquito” startups in Santa Monica and San Diego military technology companies pivoting to Terminator-like drones that hunt larvae. 

I see mosquito-repellent clothing turning high fashion, and going from REI and Dick’s Sporting Goods to launching a new collection at the Nordstrom at The Grove and then becoming a staple at your neighborhood Target and Walmart. 

Us moms wearing repellent long sleeves at school drop-off and pickup, coating ourselves in mosquito repellent like we do sunscreen. 

Posh anti-mosquito patios at restaurants from Beverly Hills to La Jolla, where you’ll pay extra to reserve a bite-free zone.

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Erewhon selling a $24 “Immunity Bite Shield” smoothie that promises to strengthen your defenses against the insect. 

Venice Beach influencers selling “$199 detox packages” where they promise you’ll become less delicious to mosquitoes by working on your chakras. 

A “mosquito concierge” becoming the next hot wellness job title. 

Coachella’s mosquito repeller tents rented out for $5,000 a day. 

According to the Greater Los Angeles County Vector Control District, the biggest things you can do are the simplest: Control standing water, even in tiny spaces, from baby pools to cups and patio umbrellas to bottle caps. 

Scrub pet bowls and bird baths, change your vase water every other day, and wash it. Fix outdoor leaks and report any standing water. 

So, tech bros, here’s your redemption arc: Use your shiny new AI tools to save us from these nano-terrors and become our John Connor. 

Ann Dunning is an author and entrepreneur in SoCal wine country.