Honeybee Democracy - Book Summary

Peek into the fascinating world of honeybees and the wisdom they hold about decision-making

Curious to find out how the behavior of bees could possibly influence our understanding of decision-making? Prepare to be amazed by the intricate ways of the hive.

Imagine having to take a collective decision with a group of 10,000 individuals. Sounds daunting, doesn't it? Now consider this: a swarm of 10,000 honeybees can accomplish this task with remarkable efficiency, leaving no room for confusion or conflict.

Come spring, a swarm of bees embarks on the crucial mission of finding a new home. Hundreds of scout bees engage in an elaborate discussion, examining options, and making informed decisions. Doesn't that sound surprisingly complex for these tiny buzzing creatures? Get ready for some unexpected insights as we delve into the world of honeybees and their democratic decision-making process.

In our exploration, we'll uncover

how honeybees identify the perfect nesting site;

the secret language of bees and their intricate dance patterns; and

the unique decision-making lessons we can derive from honeybees.

A yearly ritual of honeybees: The democratic journey to selecting a new home

Beekeepers are all too familiar with a yearly phenomenon that stirs up a bit of anxiety. When summer is on the horizon, about two-thirds of a hive's honeybees gather into an enormous buzzing mass and perch on a nearby tree branch. They remain there for a few hours or even days, before setting off towards a new dwelling place.

But how do these bees decide on their new home? How do they ensure it’s spacious and safe enough for the entire hive? When they embark on the journey together, how do they know the destination?

Decades of meticulous research have unveiled an intriguing and democratic process behind honeybees' choice of a new nesting site. The process is so impressive that we humans might stand to learn a thing or two from it.

Here's the takeaway: Every year, honeybees pick a new home through a complex, democratic process.

We humans have been captivated by bees for hundreds of years, reaping the benefits of honey since the days of ancient Egypt. However, it was only in the twentieth century that our understanding of bees began to take off, largely thanks to the trailblazing work of a German scientist named Martin Lindauer.

One sunny day in 1949, Lindauer was observing a swarm of bees when he noticed something peculiar. Several bees were doing what looked like waggle dances, a series of movements bees use to inform their companions about the location of nectar sources. However, there was something unusual about these dances. The dancing bees weren't carrying pollen, unlike bees typically do during these dances, and they looked like they'd been in some messy places—one had soot on it, another was covered with brick dust, and a third seemed to be covered in flour.

This made Lindauer wonder: Had these bees been out on a mission, looking for a new home?

Years of thorough experiments confirmed Lindauer's hypothesis. Following in his footsteps, the author continued the investigation in the United States, becoming increasingly fascinated by the complex and democratic process bees employ to make a choice as critical as their new nesting site. Nowadays, the author even uses strategies inspired by honeybees when chairing meetings!

Indeed, the process of finding a new nest is so engrossing that it's worth taking a closer look. And that's exactly what we'll do in the following sections.

Unraveling the hive: Honeybees, the epitome of teamwork and collective genius

Before we dive deep into the world of honeybees, let's pause for a moment and consider the basics. What makes bees, bees?

Back when dinosaurs roamed the earth, about 100 million years ago, bees evolved from wasps. The critical distinction is that bees aren't meat-eaters — their dietary needs are met entirely by flower pollen.

Among the nearly 20,000 species of bees, most lead solitary lives. However, honeybees display an impressive degree of sociability. The colony, comprising some 10,000 individual bees, comes together so effectively that it is often referred to as a superorganism.

Let's drive this point home: A hive of honeybees functions as a single, extraordinarily well-organized entity.

At the center of this complex hive is the queen, whose majestic title belies her singular function: to lay eggs. Each summer, she gives life to approximately 150,000 new bees.

The bulk of these eggs grow into worker bees, which are all females. Males, known as drones, make up only around 5 percent of the population. Their only job is to seek out queens from other colonies for mating.

As soon as the queen lays eggs in certain hive cells, known as queen cells, preparations for the swarm begin. The worker bees start altering the queen's treatment — they feed her less and even resort to shaking and biting her. The result is a drastic weight loss of about 25 percent, enabling her to fly.

A few days later, the hive is ready to swarm. About two-thirds of the bees, queen included, depart from the nest, never to return. They alight on a tree branch — their temporary residence.

Back at the original hive, a new queen breaks free from her cell, announcing her arrival with distinctive sounds known as toots.

Should she hear a quack in response, it's cause for concern. These quacks indicate the presence of rival queens, still in their cells, awaiting their moment. If multiple queens emerge, a battle to the death ensues.

But let's not get sidetracked. Our focus lies with the swarm of bees that has flown off and is presently clinging to a tree, waiting for their next move.

Choose wisely: Honeybees and their meticulous search for the perfect abode

The swarm of honeybees waits, patiently clinging to a tree branch for a period that could vary from a couple of hours to several days. They won't hurry their decision — it's far too critical. A wrong choice of site could mean their colony won't survive the winter.

But what kind of location are these bees seeking? What constitutes the ideal residence for honeybees?

If you recall our earlier reference to bee expert Martin Lindauer, he suggested back in 1955 that the most effective way to know would be to “ask the bees themselves.” Taking this advice to heart, the author did just that.

Let's dig deeper: Honeybees meticulously examine potential nest sites to zero in on the optimal new home.

Choosing to conduct his research on Appledore Island, off the coast of Maine in New England, the author had found the perfect study location. Removed from the mainland, with a benign climate, the island was a suitable habitat, unoccupied by native honeybees. His bees could explore freely.

The author crafted a set of adjustable boxes and spread them across the island under varying conditions. He then performed a series of precise experiments to identify which boxes the bees preferred and to understand the factors under consideration.

As it transpired, the bees favored a nest roughly 40 liters in capacity, with a small entrance — about 12 square centimeters — located at the bottom. They had a propensity for a south-facing nest, likely for warmth, and preferred elevated locations that were harder for predators to reach.

Some factors, however, were unimportant to the bees. They didn't discriminate between round or tall spaces, and damp or drafty conditions didn't bother them, as they could rectify these issues on their own.

Now, how does a honeybee gather all this data? Observing his artificial nests on Appledore Island, the author found that a honeybee spends an average of 37 minutes making roughly 30 trips inside the potential space, wandering around and taking short flights.

During this process, these incredible creatures conduct a thorough inspection, even gauging the size of the site. Once done, the bee returns to the swarm, loaded with valuable intel to share with its companions.

Playing the field: Scout bees broadcast the merits of possible nests, fostering a consensus gradually

Democracy takes many forms. In human political systems, we usually see representative democracy, where certain individuals make choices on behalf of the populace. However, honeybees subscribe to a form of direct democracy. This system calls for many individuals to make decisions directly.

The decision-makers in the swarm aren't all the bees, but rather a few hundred seasoned worker bees known as scout bees. These are the ones that set off to assess possible nest sites.

But they don't relay their findings to a central figure. Instead, they impart this knowledge to their peers, who then go and form their own judgements. Consequently, a true consensus gradually forms.

Now for the crux: Scout bees communicate information about potential nest sites, and slowly establish agreement.

More often than not, when a bee comes back from a viable potential nest site, she immediately starts performing a waggle dance. This dance provides vital data to the other bees — like the distance of the site from the swarm, and its orientation concerning the sun, enabling the other bees to locate it.

But another aspect of the waggle dance carries significance. As the author observed on Appledore Island, a bee's dance reflects the site's quality. If a nest site is just passable, a bee will only dance with lukewarm fervor — but a superior site will elicit a very vigorous dance, repeated multiple times.

Since this high-energy waggle dance lasts longer, it grabs the attention of many more scout bees. Hence, more bees decide to check out the site personally.

That's why, as time passes, a high-quality nest site garners enhanced backing. The ripple effect ensures each spirited dance leads to several more.

Once in a while, the system can falter. One of Martin Lindauer's colonies found two almost equally favorable potential nest sites, both gathering significant support from the dancing scout bees. Eventually, something incredible happened: when the swarm set off, it split in two. In the ensuing chaos, the queen was lost, and the bees returned, somewhat abashed, to their old hive.

Why doesn't this happen more frequently? If any acceptable nest site progressively gains more support, why don't bees typically end up divided? In the next part, we'll discover how honeybees have refined this intricate process.

Error is an exception when it comes to selecting a new nest site

Back on Appledore Island, the author designed an experiment to ascertain how often bees pick the best available nest site. He placed five boxes around the island, intentionally creating one as ideal, and the others as merely satisfactory. He then motivated five different swarms, one by one, to choose a new dwelling.

Out of the five, four swarms selected the ideal site. This wasn't a flawless success, but it undoubtedly demonstrated that honeybees are adept at making the right decision.

The main take-away here is: Blunders are rare when it comes to choosing a new nest site.

Why did it fall short of a perfect score? In the lone case where the bees selected a sub-optimal site, something unforeseen occurred: neither of the bees that discovered and assessed the best site performed a waggle dance upon their return. Hence, the information about it never circulated.

This unintentional omission highlights a significant aspect of the process. Any individual bee might err, but when a large number of bees carry out the same task, the risk is minimized, and the best decision almost always surfaces eventually.

To comprehend the process better, let's focus on a specific bee, christened Red, due to the dot of paint the author marked on her back. One morning, Red located an ideal nest site. When she returned to the swarm, she executed an enthusiastic waggle dance for a whole six minutes. Then, she revisited the site for a second evaluation. However, when she came back from this second trip, she didn't dance at all.

Interestingly, it's typical scout behavior to cease promoting a site relatively quickly. In other words, scout bees do something that humans don't: they lose enthusiasm for their opinion over time. And, peculiarly enough, that actually aids the process.

Firstly, it's important to remember that the site won't usually be ignored, as after the initial waggle dance many bees will have flown off to inspect it for themselves — which is what occurred with Red's site. Secondly, it's advantageous for bees to lose excitement because it means that average sites will always struggle to garner support. No bee will stubbornly continue to advocate a mediocre site, so, over time, support for it will fizzle out.

Humans don't behave like this — we're more obstinate! But perhaps we could glean a lesson from bees. We could withdraw from debates more frequently, and place our trust in others rather than just in ourselves.

A swarm of honeybees showcases remarkable unity when it's time to relocate

Unless an unusual event occurs, one potential new nest site will eventually gain enough support from the bees, prompting them to move in. But how does this happen?

Just how does a swarm of roughly 10,000 bees, perched on a tree branch, suddenly understand that it's relocation time to a new abode? And how exactly does the swarm navigate to the destination? After all, only the scout bees have been to the site — and not all of them at that.

Predictably, bees have evolved their own unique solutions to these challenges.

The key insight here is: A swarm of honeybees displays impressive unity when it's time to relocate.

Let's start by understanding how honeybees identify when to depart for their new nest site. For a considerable time, scientists were baffled, but the author unearthed the answer on Appledore Island.

One might guess that the bees resolve to move once a consensus is achieved at the old hive. However, that's not the case. There's no evidence of any consensus-seeking behavior. Instead, the author consistently noticed that the scout bees would instigate the move once they detected around 20 or 30 other scout bees at the new site. Instead of ensuring that the whole swarm agrees, they merely verify that a specific site has ample support.

Once a scout bee is confident that the time is right, she returns to the swarm and begins creating a high-pitched noise known as piping. This alerts the bees to the impending move, and prods them to gear up by raising the swarm's temperature.

Following that, the scout bees alter their behavior once more. They now commence buzz running, which is essentially what it sounds like — they dash in all directions across the swarm, flapping their wings and buzzing loudly. It's an unequivocal signal of what's about to transpire.

Then the swarm lifts off, with the scout bees spearheading — behavior that was confirmed in 2006 via cutting-edge computing technology that tracked each individual bee in a swarm. The author and his team watched the scout bees consistently dart ahead, setting an example of where to proceed.

As the swarm approaches the site, it gradually decelerates, culminating in a graceful stop just outside. The bees trickle into their new dwelling and promptly get down to business.

The democratic decision-making process of honeybees holds valuable lessons for us

In previously mentioned discussions, we likened a swarm of bees to a single, complex organism. More specifically, we compared it to a large, humming brain — and indeed, it operates in a remarkably similar way. Each bee plays a role analogous to a neuron, contributing in a small yet crucial way to the gathering and processing of information, enabling decision-making.

However, from another perspective, bees can also resemble humans. As the author discovered, the decision-making process of honeybees could significantly enhance our collective decisions.

The key insight here is: The democratic decision-making process of honeybees has much to teach us.

Let's start by acknowledging that apart from the obvious ones, there are some unexpected differences between humans and bees. The most crucial one is that honeybees always have a shared, collective objective: the survival of the hive. In contrast, humans often pursue divergent goals.

Yet, in circumstances where people's interests align — such as a town council meeting or a committee — bees can serve as a model for ideal behavior.

The first valuable lesson is to assign limited weight to leaders. Every scout bee's opinion counts equally, eliminating the risk of one bee pushing the swarm into a suboptimal decision. Unfortunately, human leaders frequently impose poor decisions on a group.

The second lesson is to always explore multiple solutions. Scout bees disperse in various directions while searching for nest sites, thus maximizing the array of possibilities. Similarly, it's prudent in any group situation to ensure all options are examined before finalizing a commitment.

Third, consider adopting the bees' approach to decision-making. If a group requires a solid decision, not necessarily a perfect one, it's often worth forging ahead once it's evident that an idea will definitely work — even if it doesn't garner universal approval. This is precisely what the scout bees do when initiating the swarm's move to a new dwelling.

The fourth and final lesson is to encourage independent knowledge building. Granting individuals the space to form their own opinions paves the way for more robust, better-informed debates. Scout bees always conduct independent evaluations of potential sites — hence, with a sufficient number of bees, it's highly probable that the best spot will attract the most support.

Evidently, the captivating behaviors of honeybees continue to offer enlightening lessons for us.

Concluding insights

The primary takeaway from this narrative:

Every year, a significant portion, two-thirds to be precise, of honeybees in a swarm vacate their dwelling and spend a few days taking shelter in a tree. Simultaneously, a courageous group of scout bees embark on a diligent assessment of potential new homes in the vicinity. The meticulous and efficient process that honeybees have evolved allows them to consistently make the best decisions — a process that could significantly inform our own decision-making mechanisms.