In any case, they're a lot more scared of us, and fairly so - imagine Cthulhu peering into your bedroom window, and you've got a fair picture of what it's like to be a spider who's suffered the mishap of somehow attracting human attention.
Maybe if we took the time to get a little less bad at that, we'd get a little better at keeping healthy the ecosystems on which we also depend for survival. It's nice to think so, anyway, not that it matters; apparently it's much more important to us to go on thinking we're somehow special, privileged to dispose of all life on this planet and the planet entire as if we need never fear the slightest consequence. Hasn't this kind of foolishness already got us in enough trouble? Don't you think it'd be a good idea if we didn't keep it up and buy ourselves even more?
That's enough internet for me tonight.
Everybody draws their own lines, is all, and this is one of mine.
Not sure it's a species thing though. I wouldn't jump to murder but I might swat at an uninvited person I found spinning silk behind my washing machine.
Even if they did promise to eat bugs.
So the best way to bring them outside is to put a plastic cup over the spider, then carefully slide a postcard underneath the cup, and then release it outside.
It depends on the spider, too. Orb weavers are reliably fearful, which makes sense given how little they can perceive away from a web, but I've had the occasional salticid climb up to perch on my knuckles with no sign of dismay, and wait to hop off until I bring my hand close to a suitable surface.
This is not comforting.