No Swarms.
You won’t be beekeeping for very long before you come across a persistent set of propositions that are generally presented as some form of veiled rebuke. They go something like this:
Why not let bees do what they would naturally do?
Why not work with the natural processes of the hive?
Why can’t bees survive long without being untreated and unmanaged, why do we have to interfere?
They have been on this planet longer than we have/[for millions of years]; once we start 'looking after them', they are at risk of extinction...
It’s the right moral thing to do - allowing a lifeform to experience its true nature.
There is of course no basis for claiming that honeybees are at risk of extinction but focus for a moment on the moral subtext here. Philosophically, the idea that ‘nature’ and ‘natural’ represent some perfect, self-correcting, harmonious state of being, perhaps provided by a beneficent Creator, is very old. ‘Natural’ is used in opposition to ‘human’, which of course is far from perfect, evil even. It’s a false dichotomy, a myth, and helps to entrench a worldview in which humans are separate from and even inferior to, the natural world. An associated problem is one of teleology, our tendency to explain things we observe as the result of intent or design, as the way things ‘should’ be. Nature, as currently found, is inevitable, rather than accidental. One of the problems with trying to answer ‘why?’ questions is that we unconsciously think in terms of structure and purpose when there are none.
…appeals to nature can be potent. The conclusions seem based on what is “natural,” inherent, or inevitable. There is thus no recourse. Natural purpose seems both inescapable and irrefutable. Thus, even if one can imagine things differently, or argue that they “ought” to be different, one seems bound to the inevitable. Teleological-based claims can thus function as a powerful method of persuasion. Socially, they are a sort of rhetorical weapon. Nature, with its aura of intended outcomes, acts like a trump card to eclipse alternative arguments.
Teleology’s long shadow, Werth and Allchin, Evo. Edu. Outreach (2020) 13:4
In recent years this ‘natural’ perspective has become regarded as neither philosophically nor scientifically sound. To malappropriate a line from Thomas Hobbes (Leviathan, 1651) in a natural state (of society, or nature) life can be “…nasty, brutish, and short”.
Beekeepers have been working with bees for around 4,500 years. In modern times, the last 100 years or so, nothing stimulates the kind of remarks I opened with more than manipulations to control swarming. While few beekeepers argue that swarming can be stopped; most see it as undesirable and look for ways to manage it. What is it and what makes it undesirable? Why don’t we just let bees get on with it?
In simple terms, unlike other social insects, honeybee colonies function as a unit which includes, usually, a single reproductive female with a limited life span and many workers. To create more colonies, and to continue the life of the unit, bees must increase the number of reproductive females, apportion workers with these females, and house them in new, separate, nests. A colony will grow until it has achieved sufficient size, and accumulated enough food resources, to be able to sustain this process. Each new group containing a viable female and sterile worker bees is known as a swarm. The first and largest group will contain the colony’s old, mated, queen and a share of the workers, subsequent groups have new unmated queen (a ‘virgin’) and a lesser share of workers (and may be known as ‘casts’). These small groups of bees travel to new nest sites, so that the division of the original colony might result in half a dozen new colonies. One final group, containing a yet-to-be-mated queen (virgin) and what workers remain, stay in the original nest.
The potential outcomes of this process are uncertain and differ for each group. The original initiator of the swarms, the source colony, is left with a depleted workforce at a critical time of year, and queen pupae that may fail to emerge or be predated. murdered, lost, or poorly mated. In a sense it has traded off its winter security in order to produce new colonies. The first, prime, swarm has an old queen, not the best flyer, who may or may not establish a nest because sites can be in short supply, and may or may not lay enough to keep the nest going until she can be replaced or swarm in the subsequent season. If she stops laying the colony will die. The casts, with unmated queens, may not find a suitable site, risk exposure to the weather, and may not mate the virgins, killing the colony. If the season is unfavourable the swarms will not have time to create a large enough winter store of food and they will starve. If circumstances arise that leave any of these colonies without enough adult bees, they will be unable to defend, warm, or provide for the colony causing its demise. Weak colonies are also at a significantly higher risk from disease. In nature, something like 80% of swarms survive for less than a year. But it might work out.
An alternative strategy, perhaps complementary might be a better word, is for a colony to invest in male reproduction, rather than, or as well as, female reproduction. We can observe that honeybee colonies in fact do this, and that there is quite a lot of variation between colonies as to how much effort is applied to raising males rather than females, and in how many swarms are produced. The outcome of male production is also highly uncertain, but the probability of at least some of the offspring from the original hive founding new hives one way or another increases.
In purely biological terms colonies swarming presents risk and uncertainty. Honeybees may be unsuccessful in one year, or one region, but prosper in another. A new pathogen or pest might be enough to tip the balance of probability against survival. Could this translate into the extinction of the species? It wouldn’t be the first time a species’ reproductive ability, or lack of, has contributed to its extinction. In managed, monitored colonies all these challenges can be mitigated, and I think it’s reasonable that the increasing numbers of western honeybee colonies we have seen for the last 75 years, in contrast to the decline observed in more local Apis species, (dorsata, cerana, florea, andreniformis etc.) is due to this management.
In terms of the human supervision of swarming, beekeepers need to be able to explain that actually the goal is improving the outcome of this reproductive cycle, alleviating some of the risk unmanaged hives face. We can overcome a natural shortage of suitable nest sites and can transport colonies to new and profitable forage ranges, rather than leave them to die. We don’t want to have to rescue small, starving, disease-ridden colonies from wasps, or anything else; we don’t want the problems that come with ‘prime’ swarms that are in fact, well past their prime. We don’t want the ill-tempered, difficult to manage, occasionally dangerous stock that can result from unlucky mating combinations, or have to explain to family and neighbours why these critters are actually a good thing. We don’t want to have to rescue bees in barbeques, walls, ceilings, you name it. We don’t want pockets of inaccessible hives acting as reservoirs for pests or undesirable genes. We do want healthy, prosperous, fecund, predictable colonies. True, we aren’t doing it just because we are good buggars, and true, it’s our desire for honey and wax that fuels our generosity, but bees don’t pollinate out of the goodness of their leaky, tubular, heart.