Research Tool Bench

Do You Really Swallow 8 Spiders a Year in Your Sleep?

Last updated 2026-08-22

It's one of the most-repeated "fun facts" in circulation: the average person supposedly swallows eight spiders a year while asleep. Every credentialed source that has actually checked this says it's false. That's not the interesting part. The interesting part is where the false claim is said to have come from — a specific writer, a specific magazine, a specific date — and what happens when you actually go looking for that magazine.

The claim

The average person unknowingly swallows a specific number of live spiders per year while sleeping — most commonly stated as eight, though four, "20 in a lifetime," and "a pound over a lifetime" all circulate too.

Source trail

Nearly every page that debunks this claim also explains where it came from, and nearly all of them tell the same story: in 1993, a columnist named Lisa Holst wrote a piece in a computer magazine called PC Professional about how readily people believe chain-email "facts," and invented the eight-spiders statistic herself as a demonstration. That story itself traces to one place — Snopes.com — and Snopes has since said, on its own site, that the writer and the magazine it cited do not exist.

What's confirmed

What isn't

Verdict

No spider-swallowing case is on record anywhere in scientific or medical literature, and named arachnologists give a consistent, specific biological reason why: a sleeping person's heartbeat, breathing and snoring are exactly the vibrations a spider is built to avoid, not approach. That part of the myth is settled. What isn't settled is the story nearly every debunking page tells about where the false number came from — a named writer and a named 1993 magazine that no one, including the fact-checking site that first named them, has ever produced. The number itself doesn't even survive contact with its own debunkers: the Burke Museum's own page states "four," not "eight," while citing other versions again. The tidy story of "one writer invented this fact to prove a point about misinformation" is itself a fact that spread the same way the spider claim did — repeated by page after page, sourced only to the page before it.

Same shape as our brief on goldfish memory: a popular myth turns out to be false, but the specific story people tell about how the myth began or spread has its own unverified soft spots that the debunking pages themselves rarely check. Also related: did knights need a crane to mount their horse?, another case where tracing a claim to its printed origin turns up a different date and source than the one usually named, and was there really a room called a vomitorium for vomiting?, where the academic article most other sites lean on for the myth's origin date gets a checkable fact about its own key example wrong. Also related: are daddy long-legs the most venomous spiders in the world?, another false arachnid claim where the sources debunking it turn out not to agree with each other once read directly. A fourth: was the spinach-iron myth really caused by a misplaced decimal point?, where the tidy "here's the real explanation" story turns out to have no documented source either, and the doctor who spread it admitted as much when asked directly. A fifth, and the rare case where the strange claim actually holds up: are "rat kings" — rats fused together by their tails — actually real?, where named museum specimens and a scientist's own 2021 fieldwork confirm the phenomenon, even though he leaned on Wikipedia rather than his own research to say how rare it is. A sixth: do Twinkies really last forever?, where the myth's most confident-sounding detail — a named comedian, a named decade — turns out to be just as unsourced as the eight spiders' named writer and named magazine. A seventh: did Thomas Crapper invent the flush toilet?, where a named soldiers'-slang origin story turns out to be just as unattributed as the eight-spiders anagram it was traced back to. An eighth: did Mrs. O'Leary's cow really start the Great Chicago Fire?, where the myth itself is confirmed fiction but the reporter's own confession to inventing it gets three different dates, decades apart, across the sources that report it. A ninth: was Walt Disney's body really cryogenically frozen?, where the quote most often used to debunk the myth turns out to misstate its own key timing fact by a factor of two. More research briefs.