Rats, Pigeons and Pests: What Does the Internet’s Affinity for Vermin Mean?

Words: Arabella Peterson

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I open my Instagram Explore page and see a photo of a rodent with Ratz emblazoned over it in the Bratz doll font, complete with a pink angel halo. It leads me to the official Bratz account, where they advertise their latest doll featuring a pet rat on a leash. Later, on my Explore page, I stumble across a rodent version of Botticelli’s Birth of Venus. I scroll further, and there’s a possum on a skateboard, “Capitalism will kill us all, gender is fake, eat garbage, be free,” it tells me.

Meme mainstays, including Stuart Little and Ratatouille, clog my algorithm like rats in a storm drain while grime-led trends — Goblin Mode, Feral Girl Summer, Slobcore, Indie Sleaze and Dirtbag Aesthetic — swarm my feed. Artisans are creating accessories and wearable art with pests and creepy crawlies as the main attraction. Meanwhile, publications inform me that I want a Hot Rodent Boyfriend, and if not, maybe a Frog Boy is more my type. 

There’s only one thing I can make of all this: We just had our first Pest Summer.

Perhaps it’s caused because people simply find it cute to see maligned creatures depicted in an endearing and relatable way. Or maybe, subconsciously, it’s a playful way of expressing views on class dynamics, economic disparity, and navigating social discontent. 
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Like punk culture in the 1970s, which embraced squalor and grit under Thatcherism, we’re in the midst of a similar anti-establishment sentiment. Celebrating vermin goes hand-in-hand with this, part of a broader rebellion against societal norms that favour beauty, cleanliness, and control. These pests symbolise resilience and adaptability, often inhabiting spaces associated with struggle and neglect. They thrive in harsh urban environments, mirroring human survival and ingenuity in the face of urbanisation, pandemics and environmental degradation.

Socialist theory notes that the ruling class exploits the working class, viewing them as a disposable resource. It suggests that members of the upper echelon consider the proletariat parasitic, unruly, and expendable while publicly celebrating them for their resilience. This dynamic allows the elite to benefit from the existence of labourers while simultaneously dehumanising them. 

Reclamation, subversion, and the use of humour as resistance can transform such rhetoric into an indirect outlet for solidarity. As well as the rats, mice, frogs, pigeons and possums finding fame on social media, the humble pigeon, or “vermin of the sky”, is also having a moment. Memes of pigeons using nails, barbed wire and anti-bird spikes to build their nests are doing the rounds, reminiscent of the hostile architecture used to bar people, mostly unhoused, from public spaces. This summer, the pigeon was revealed as the new symbol of the rebranded London Museum, an interesting reclamation when the UK’s capital is increasingly austere and unlivable. 

Beyond the UK, similar trends embrace vermin while commenting on economic and social challenges. The Rat Rat trend, which became popular with Chinese Zoomers last year, saw young people self-identify with rats to express their dissatisfaction and disillusionment about everything from class disparity to societal expectations. 

“Digital trends that embrace ‘lowbrow’ symbols like rats, frogs and pigeons require participants to subvert traditional aspirations and assert their own tastes.”

So, how do we know this online phenomenon has any meaning, and more importantly, why does it matter? There are a few lenses to view it through, one of which is Henry Jenkins' concept of participatory culture. Essentially, media that seems trivial, like memes and internet trends, both reflect and reinforce our societal attitudes. Participatory culture emphasises how communities consume and contribute to discourse by creating or sharing content. This content can foster informal online communities where users bond over shared experiences and identities, forming tacit defiance against dominant cultural narratives. 

Digital trends that embrace "lowbrow" symbols like rats, frogs and pigeons require participants to subvert traditional aspirations and assert their own tastes. According to Pierre Bourdieu's concept of cultural capital and taste, these symbols are likely influenced by your socio-economic background. Bourdieu argues that by aligning ourselves with particular trends and aesthetics, we are engaging in a ‘reinforcement of identity’. Taste can act as a marker of social identity, so it’s worth asking what people might be subconsciously communicating about how they view their social standing, attributes, and society at large when sharing this content.  

With this in mind, is adopting this side of meme culture a means for the bourgeoisie to playfully distance themselves from privilege by cultivating an aesthetic of “grit” without experiencing the actual hardships associated with it? Or, is the middle class feeling the strain of the cost of living crisis to a point where cross-class solidarity is necessary to effectively critique the affluent? The answer might be a bit of both. The way in which we engage with this content can reflect an interplay of identity and the nuanced realities of economic downturn, where we navigate our relationship to privilege while engaging in broader conversations about inequality.

In many cases, by featuring these creatures in whimsical ways, memes juxtapose the cute with the ugly, the feminine and the grotesque. Not only can this content be viewed through a class-conscious lens but also within feminist frameworks in its subversion of gendered convention. In a culture that values the polished and idealised, presenting vermin in cute, “girly” contexts can disrupt those norms and embrace a more facetious representation of femininity. By sharing this content, women might connect with the undesirable traits associated with these creatures that have previously been more acceptable in men, such as messiness, chaos, and filth. At the end of the day, perhaps it all comes back to the rallying cry of the aforementioned possum meme, “Capitalism will kill us all, gender is fake, eat garbage, be free.” Viva la vermin.