The swallowtail moth is beautiful for some, frightening for others. Recently, the moths have been spotted throughout the city, from office buildings in Pasay to high-rises in Makati.
As the flying insects flock to Manila, the internet has been blowing up with jokes, referencing the Filipino cultural tradition of believing moths or delicate butterflies to be the visiting souls of loved ones who have passed on.
But these massive-winged visitors, specifically the Swallowtail moths, are indicative of greater environmental concerns, and perhaps a fitting metaphor for social marginalization, too.
Displaced from paradise
The swallowtail moth’s natural breeding grounds, particularly from areas in Cordillera Central like the Baguio and Bontoc region, have been subject to biodiversity loss with the increase of both deforestation and industrialization. This leaves fewer host plants where they can lay their eggs.
In response, the moths, which are phototactic, find themselves irresistibly drawn to the artificial glow of urban lights.
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Climate change has made the crisis worse, with a 2023 study showing urban areas have become “potential sinks” for these animals. In particular, dry spells triggered by global warming are causing this mass migration, as the moths search desperately for better environments.
Have you been seeing this insect around Metro Manila a lot lately? 🦋
A thread pic.twitter.com/NcQGvWOnUu
— Edriel (@EWolf620) June 19, 2025
In a viral Facebook post, entomologist Edriel Lee brought the issue to the attention of a wider audience. “They become tempted to detour into the glistening, shimmering urban metropolis. Unfortunately, their host plants… can only be found in forests and are absent in cities. As a result, the migrating moths are not able to reproduce. This may pose a problem for the genetic health of the population.”
Lee went on to describe the potential physical toll on these urban insect migrants: shortened wings, compromised reproductive ability, and other adaptations that mark their struggle for survival in an alien environment.
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Following the claws of false lights
Besides being believed to be the souls of the dearly departed in Filipino culture, the moths are often symbolic of “positive transformation because they fly in the dark of night towards light.”
But what if the light has claws? What if the lights are dangerous?
Such a symbol of these moths’ naive journey to Manila’s glittering lights draws parallels to Lino Brocka’s 1975 masterpiece “Maynila, sa mga Kuko ng Liwanag” (“Manila in the Claws of Light”), where the moths have been led astray from their natural habitat, pulled toward a metropolis that cannot sustain them.
The neo-noir masterpiece, based on Edgardo M. Reyes’ novel “In the Claws of Brightness,” depicts the third world plight of Júlio Madiaga (Bembol Roco), a young man from the idyllic, seaside province of Marinduque who follows the seductive glow of Manila’s neon lights on a mission to find his lover Ligaya (Hilda Koronel).
Instead, he finds himself trapped in a toxic cycle, working a dangerous construction job by day, until he finds Ligaya trapped in a hopeless system of exploitation, drawn into the city’s underworld. One haunting sequence shows a construction worker falling to his death after singing a heartbroken ballad, his body plummeting from the skeletal frames of buildings.
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The film shows all of Manila’s neon lights as false beacons, much like how the swallowtail moths may see it. Brocka’s story and the current situation of the moths feel like a metaphor, mirroring countless Filipino migrants who leave bucolic agricultural provinces, often due to the systemic lack of opportunities, for Manila’s glistening lights—only to find themselves in uncertain employment, informal settlements, and struggling with social isolation—a self-perpetuating cycle and “urban poverty trap,”
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So maybe it’s a stretch, but perhaps the most haunting parallel is the failure of the city to provide both what moths and migrants need, in a city of lights that attracts but fails to nourish.
For swallowtail moths, the concrete is not a place to lay their eggs. While for the provincial worker, they too arrive to find a place that cannot sustain a stable or dignified life.
In both the environmental destruction and systemic lack of opportunities in rural areas, Manila bursts with artificial lights that lure newcomers in, creating an illusion of opportunity that fails to nourish and, in the end, leaves one’s inner lights diminished.