I’ve been fascinated by bees for as long as I can remember. I think they’re the cutest bugs—but I’ve also always been a little afraid of them, especially the possibility of getting stung. During the pandemic, my fascination grew into a real interest in beekeeping, thanks to the endless stream of beekeeping videos I found myself watching online. Looking for a way to ease some seasonal depression and finally try something that had long been on my bucket list, I signed up for a beekeeping course—and that’s where my journey really began.
The course was run by a volunteer-led beekeeping association in my county, made up of passionate, longtime beekeepers who were more than happy to answer even my most basic questions. From the moment I attended one of their events, it was clear this was a tight-knit group bound by a shared love for beekeeping—and I quickly understood why. Bees are fascinating, self-sufficient creatures that are genuinely fun to observe. But what stood out most to me was how much they depend on one another. They thrive through collaboration, and there’s something deeply inspiring about that. Honestly, they could teach us humans a thing or two.
As a community engagement manager, I was especially struck by how thousands of individual bees can come together to build a single, complex hive. It’s a powerful reminder of what’s possible when individuals work as a collective. Reflecting on my beekeeping experience, I’ve identified three key lessons we can draw from bees to help strengthen and sustain our own communities.
Hive Mind:
One band, one sound! For bees, having a hive mind isn’t science fiction—it’s their blueprint for survival. In a bee colony, there’s no room for ego, bias, or politics. Decisions are made for the good of the hive, not individual gain. Even drones—who don’t clean, forage, or defend—still have access to the hive’s resources. No one takes more than they need, because there’s no reward for excess. The colony thrives because it operates on collective agreement and shared purpose.
Bees instinctively understand that while one bee alone can’t fend off a threat, the power of the group can. Their strength lies in unity. But what truly makes the hive work is clarity—every bee has a role, and every role matters.
Everyone has A Role:
From the moment a bee “hatches” until it dies or leaves the hive, it is considered a contributing member of its colony. Worker bees participate in something called age polytheism, where an individual goes through different specializations as it grows older. For example, newly hatched worker bees make their first contribution by cleaning up the cells around them and maintaining the brood – bees that have not yet hatched. Young worker bees maintain the inside of the hive with tasks like tending to the queen, maintaining proper ventilation, and receiving and “processing” nectar from forager bees. Older worker bees forage for nectar, pollen, and water and also scout for new home sites. A queen bee’s primary job is to mate, lay eggs, and lead half of the colony to a new site if the current colony gets too big. Even drones, whose sole purpose and job is to mate with a queen bee, allow space to live and eat in the hive. With so many diminishing malls, playgrounds, and third places in general, many communities could benefit better from having places for all members to exist.
Nobody’s Bigger Than the Program:
One of the things I find most interesting about bees in a colony is that they seem to perform tasks without being told. They do not need policies put in in place to get work done and forager bees will do work inside of the hive when necessary. Drone bees seem to have the most appealing role of all bees; however, if they cannot perform that one task, they cannot return to their hive. The queen bee is regarded as royalty to us, but even she has to have a performance review. If a queen bee is unable to perform to the colony’s standard, she can and will be replaced by the colony. The hive mind is a collection of individual bees that all agree on what needs to be done for the greater good of the colony, and nobody (not even the queen) is bigger than the program.
Taking this course gave me a whole new appreciation for bees. While I don’t have an apiary—yet—I now have a deeper understanding of how to support bee populations and, even more importantly, how we can build stronger, more connected communities.
While a “hive mind” might sound dystopian when applied to people, there’s real power in shared purpose. Thriving communities are built when everyone has a place and is recognized for their unique contributions. When all members are equally accountable—including those in leadership—there’s a collective incentive to do meaningful, effective work.
Whether your community is defined by where you live or what you care about, it’s your hive. The question is: how are you showing up in it?
