Why the Common Starling Invasive Species Is Way Worse Than You Think

Why the Common Starling Invasive Species Is Way Worse Than You Think

It started with Shakespeare. Seriously. Back in 1890, a guy named Eugene Schieffelin decided New York City needed every bird mentioned in the Bard’s plays. He released about 60 European starlings in Central Park. He probably thought it was a poetic, cultured gesture. Instead, he triggered an ecological nightmare that we are still dealing with over 130 years later. Those 60 birds turned into a continent-wide army. Today, the common starling invasive species population in North America is estimated at somewhere around 200 million. They are everywhere. You’ve seen them—those iridescent, oily-looking blackbirds that travel in massive, swirling clouds. Scientists call those clouds "murmurations." They look beautiful from a distance, like a living ribbon of smoke. Up close? They’re a biological wrecking ball.

The Problem With "Successful" Birds

We usually celebrate animals that can survive anywhere. But the common starling takes it too far. They are what biologists call generalists. They’ll eat almost anything—seeds, insects, garbage, your dog’s kibble. Because they aren't picky, they don't die off when the environment changes. They just move in and take over.

They are cavity nesters, which is the real kicker for our local ecosystems. They don't build nests in the open branches. They want holes. They want the same holes that bluebirds, flickers, and woodpeckers need. Starlings are aggressive. They won't just wait for a vacancy; they’ll kick a native bird out, break its eggs, and kill its hatchlings. It’s brutal. Honestly, if you’ve noticed fewer bluebirds in your backyard over the years, the common starling is likely the reason why.

Why They’re So Hard to Stop

You’ve probably seen them at bird feeders. They don't just take a seed and leave. They swarm. A flock can empty a feeder in minutes, bullying every other bird away. This isn't just a "mean bird" problem; it’s a numbers game. Their social structure is incredibly tight. They communicate constantly. When one finds a food source, the whole neighborhood knows within seconds.

The USDA spends millions every year trying to manage them. Why? Because they aren't just a backyard nuisance. They are a massive threat to the economy.

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The Billion-Dollar Bird

If you think a bird can't hurt your wallet, ask a dairy farmer. Starlings love grain. They descend on cattle feedlots by the thousands. They don't just eat the grain; they contaminate the rest with their droppings. This spreads diseases like Salmonella and E. coli. There is also evidence that they carry Transmissible Gastroenteritis (TGE) between swine facilities.

Agriculture losses from the common starling invasive species are staggering. We are talking about roughly $800 million to $1 billion in damage annually in the United States alone. They peck at ripening fruit in orchards—cherries, grapes, and apples are favorites. A single flock can ruin a vineyard's entire harvest in a few days. They don't even eat the whole fruit; they just poke holes in it, making it unsellable and prone to rot.

Planes, Trains, and Birds

The danger isn't limited to farms. Starlings are a legitimate aviation hazard. Because they fly in such dense, heavy flocks, they are a nightmare for jet engines. In 1960, Eastern Air Lines Flight 375 crashed in Boston after flying into a flock of starlings. It’s one of the deadliest bird-strike incidents in history. Even today, airports have to use lasers, sirens, and even predatory hawks to keep these birds away from runways. It’s a constant, expensive battle of wits.

Can We Actually Fix This?

Total eradication? Honestly, probably not. Not at this point. They are too well-entrenched. But management is possible if you’re smart about it. Most people try to use noise to scare them away. That works for about ten minutes until the birds realize the "predator" sound is just a recording. They’re smart. They learn.

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If you want to keep them off your property, you have to be tactical.

  • Switch your birdseed. Starlings have soft beaks. They struggle with hard-shelled seeds like safflower or striped sunflower. They love suet and cracked corn. Stop feeding the "cheap" mix if you want them gone.
  • Fix your birdhouses. If you’re trying to attract bluebirds, use houses with specific entry hole sizes. A hole exactly 1.5 inches in diameter lets a bluebird in but keeps a starling out. It’s a physical barrier they can’t cheat.
  • Seal the gaps. Check your eaves and vents. If there’s a hole the size of a golf ball, a starling will find it and start building a nest in your attic.

The Complexity of Control

It’s tempting to just say "get rid of them all," but the ethics of large-scale culling are complicated. The USDA uses a substance called Starlicide (DRC-1339), which is a slow-acting poison specifically designed to be more toxic to starlings than to most other birds or mammals. It’s effective, but it’s a grim solution.

Some researchers are looking into more high-tech options, like gene drives or automated deterrents, but we’re a long way from a "silver bullet." For now, it’s about localized management. You protect your garden, the farmer protects their grain, and the airport protects its engines.

What You Should Do Next

Dealing with an invasive species feels like a losing battle, but individual action matters. If you see a starling nesting in your dryer vent, remove the nest immediately (check your local laws, but in many places, invasive species don't have the same protections as native migratory birds).

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Stop using open-platform feeders. They’re basically an "All You Can Eat" sign for starlings. Use "caged" feeders that only allow smaller songbirds to enter.

Knowledge is the best tool here. The common starling isn't just a bird; it's a lesson in what happens when humans mess with biodiversity without thinking about the consequences. Eugene Schieffelin wanted a bit of Shakespeare in New York. Instead, he gave us a billion-dollar problem that isn't going away anytime soon.

Keep your birdhouses small, your seed choices specific, and your vents sealed. That’s how you win your piece of the neighborhood back.