Bee-ing Here Now: Lessons From Honey Bees

“WHAT IS THAT?” the mechanic queried, staring at a fuzzy spot on my Jeep’s engine block. I spied an intact, but most certainly dead, honey bee. “Oh no!” I gasped, reaching to relocate the tiny body into my palm. “Awwww,” gushed my burly companion.

- SARAH BOWEN

At that instant, a simple oil change became an occasion for shared compassion. “What are you going to do with it?” he asked. “Why, bury her, of course,” I replied with a huge grin. I could almost see gears grinding in his brain as he considered how to respond—since he was, after all, initially trying to upsell me a transmission flush, not ponder the afterlife of insects. After a few moments, he offered, “That’s very kind of you.”

Most people understand why I help bury cats and dogs. Some even admire that I remove squashed squirrels and chipmunks from roadways. But when it comes to insects, humans generally feel little moral concern, and their responses to me are endlessly fascinating.

A case in point: Recently I wrote a digital column for S&H titled “An Ethical Obligation to Ticks?” Some readers appreciated this messy philosophical question, adding their thoughtful insights. On the flip side, one complained, “How do I stop seeing posts from this dimwit?”

Even my mother got involved, texting me, “I’m wondering what a tick does that aids the planet?” So we debated this, going back and forth until I conceded, “I guess it comes down to my belief that life itself has value for any living being, even for a tick.” She paused and declared, “Well, I’m definitely not choosing one for a pet.” (Fair point, Mom.)

Through this experience, I’ve realized pollinators, especially honey bees, hold an elevated status above other insects for us. (Ticks really ought to ask them for a publicist recommendation.) I suspected this was due to the increasing media coverage about their crucial role in assisting many of the plants we like to eat. And, it turns out, I was onto something.