Tree of Heaven

A fast, foul-smelling, allelopathic invasive that resprouts and suckers so aggressively it's nearly impossible to kill - and the preferred host of the spotted lanternfly. Never plant it; this entry is for identifying and controlling it.

How to recognize it and why never to plant it: a fast tree with huge compound leaves bearing gland-tipped basal teeth and a rancid-peanut smell, that suckers aggressively, suppresses natives, and hosts the lanternfly.

You should never plant tree of heaven - and correct identification matters because it's easily confused with native sumacs, walnut, hickory, and ash. It's a fast-growing tree with very large compound leaves, 1 to 3 feet long, with 10 to 40 or more leaflets. The diagnostic features: each leaflet has one or two rounded, gland-tipped teeth near its base and is otherwise smooth-edged (unlike sumac's toothed-all-around leaflets), and crushed leaves and twigs give off a strong, rancid, unpleasant odor. Smooth gray bark (like a cantaloupe skin) and stout twigs with large leaf scars help confirm it.

Its biology makes it a formidable invader. It grows extraordinarily fast, tolerates pollution, drought, poor soils, and salt, and colonizes the toughest disturbed and urban ground. It spreads by enormous quantities of wind-borne winged seeds (a single female tree can produce hundreds of thousands) and by aggressive root suckers that can sprout many feet from the trunk. It's allelopathic, releasing chemicals that suppress neighboring plants, and it's the favored host of the spotted lanternfly. Understanding all of this - fast, foul, chemically hostile, seed-and-sucker spread, and a pest host - is exactly why it belongs firmly in the 'never plant' category.

How it spreads - and why it's nearly unkillable: hundreds of thousands of wind-borne seeds per female tree, plus aggressive root suckers and stump sprouts that explode in number whenever the tree is cut or damaged.

Tree of heaven spreads with alarming efficiency. A single female tree can produce hundreds of thousands of winged seeds that ride the wind far and wide, germinating readily in the poorest, most disturbed ground - which is why seedlings pop up in pavement cracks and vacant lots across cities.

Its real superpower, though, is vegetative. It suckers aggressively from a spreading root system, sending up new stems many feet from the parent, and it resprouts explosively from cut stumps and damaged roots. This is the crucial, counterintuitive fact for control: cutting or mowing it makes it worse, triggering dozens of vigorous suckers where there was one trunk. Even herbicide has to be applied so it's translocated into the root system (basal-bark, hack-and-squirt, or cut-stump with immediate treatment, ideally in late summer) or the roots simply resprout. This mix - massive wind-borne seed dispersal plus a root system that answers damage with a thicket of suckers - is what earns it a reputation as nearly impossible to eradicate.

Control, not care - and technique matters: never just cut it (that triggers suckering); use systemic herbicide (basal-bark, hack-and-squirt, or cut-stump) to reach the roots, prioritize seed-bearing females, and replant natives.

For tree of heaven, 'care' means careful control, and the single most important rule is: do not simply cut it down. Cutting, mowing, or otherwise damaging it without killing the roots triggers an explosion of suckers and stump sprouts that turns one tree into a thicket. The effective approach is systemic herbicide that reaches the roots - a basal-bark treatment, hack-and-squirt (frilling), or cut-stump application with herbicide applied immediately - timed for best translocation, usually mid-to-late summer. Tiny seedlings can be hand-pulled (get the whole root); everything larger should be treated, then removed once dead.

Prioritize seed-bearing female trees to shut off the wind-borne seed, and expect to follow up on suckers and seedlings for several seasons. Wear gloves, long sleeves, and eye protection against the irritant sap, and given its role as the spotted lanternfly's favored host, coordinate with local lanternfly and invasive-species programs where that pest is present (management sometimes keeps a few treated 'trap' trees, but that's a job for professionals). Then replant with native trees that fill the same niche - staghorn or smooth sumac, black walnut, native hickories - to hold the ground. For anything beyond a seedling, follow extension guidance or hire a professional; done wrong, removal backfires.

Not a food - it's foul-smelling with irritant sap, grown historically only as a tough shade tree. Ecologically its impact is strongly negative: it suppresses natives chemically and hosts a damaging invasive pest.

Tree of heaven is not food. Its sap is a skin irritant, its foliage and flowers are foul-smelling, and it has no culinary use. (Its bark has some history in traditional medicine, but that's no reason to keep this invasive.)

Ecologically, its impact is strongly negative on multiple fronts. It's allelopathic - it releases chemical compounds that suppress the growth of neighboring plants, giving it a competitive edge and degrading the native plant community directly, not just by shading. It forms fast, suckering thickets that crowd out natives, and its roots damage infrastructure. And critically, it's the preferred host of the spotted lanternfly, an invasive planthopper that feeds on and stresses crops and trees - so tree of heaven doesn't just displace natives, it helps sustain and spread a major agricultural and forest pest. There is essentially no ecological upside to tolerating it. The meaningful 'nutrition' story is what it harms: removing it (correctly) and restoring natives lifts a chemical and pest burden off the surrounding landscape.

Introduced in the 1780s as a fast, tough, exotic ornamental and prized as a hardy urban street tree, tree of heaven escaped everywhere and is now a defining invasive - and the spotted lanternfly's favored host.

Tree of heaven was introduced to North America in the 1780s from China (by way of Europe, where it was already fashionable), planted as a fast-growing, exotic ornamental and later valued as a remarkably tough urban street tree that could survive smoke, soot, poor soil, and neglect where little else would. It's the very tree immortalized as the resilient survivor in the novel A Tree Grows in Brooklyn - a fitting emblem of its ability to thrive in the harshest city cracks.

That toughness, plus prolific seeding and aggressive suckering, let it escape and spread across the continent, from city sidewalks to rural forest edges, and it's now recognized as one of the most difficult invasive trees to control. In recent years its notoriety has grown for a new reason: it's the preferred host of the spotted lanternfly, an invasive pest first found in the US in 2014 that threatens vineyards, orchards, and hardwoods - making tree-of-heaven removal a front line in lanternfly management. Its arc - from admired hardy ornamental to nearly unkillable invasive and pest host - is one of the clearest cautions that 'tough enough to grow anywhere' is exactly what makes a tree dangerous outside its native range.

Confirm it (huge compound leaves with gland-tipped basal teeth, rancid smell, twisted winged seeds), don't plant it, NEVER just cut it (it suckers), treat with systemic herbicide to kill the roots, and replant natives.

Is this tree of heaven? Look for very large compound leaves (1-3 ft) with 10-40+ leaflets, each leaflet having one or two gland-tipped teeth near its base and otherwise smooth edges; a strong rancid-peanut smell from crushed leaves and twigs; smooth gray bark; and, on female trees, dense clusters of twisted reddish-tan winged seeds. How is it different from sumac or walnut? Native sumacs have leaflets toothed along their whole edge; walnut and hickory leaves lack the basal glands and the foul smell - the gland-tipped basal teeth plus the odor are the giveaways. How do I kill it? Do NOT just cut it - that triggers a thicket of suckers. Use systemic herbicide (basal-bark, hack-and-squirt, or cut-stump with immediate treatment), ideally in late summer, so it reaches the roots; pull only tiny seedlings. Which trees first? Seed-bearing females, to stop wind-borne seed. Isn't it the lanternfly tree? Yes - it's the spotted lanternfly's favored host; coordinate with local pest programs where that insect is present. It came back worse after cutting: expected - that's why you treat rather than cut. What should I plant instead? Native staghorn or smooth sumac, black walnut, or a native hickory.

Invasive across most of the US (roughly zones 4-8 and beyond), unmatched at colonizing harsh urban and disturbed ground; its extreme tolerance of pollution, drought, and poor soil leaves few climatic barriers.

Tree of heaven is invasive across most of the United States, roughly zones 4-8 and into warmer areas, and its defining trait is extreme tolerance. It shrugs off air pollution, road salt, compacted and poor soils, drought, and heat, which lets it colonize the harshest sites - urban sidewalk cracks, alleys, rail corridors, industrial land, vacant lots, roadsides, fencerows, and forest edges - where few other trees can establish. That toughness means there are few places within the temperate US where climate alone holds it back.

It's especially at home in disturbed and urban landscapes, but it also invades natural areas, riparian zones, and forest openings. Because it spreads by both far-traveling wind-borne seed and aggressive root suckers, and because it hosts the spreading spotted lanternfly, vigilance is warranted almost everywhere. Wherever you are in its broad range, the guidance holds: never plant it, learn to recognize its gland-toothed leaflets and rancid smell, and control it correctly (treat, don't just cut) while infestations are small - an ailanthus seedling in a pavement crack today is a suckering, seed-spreading thicket tomorrow in the disturbed conditions it exploits so well.