In October of 2002, John Allen Muhammed and his nephew, Lee Boyd Malvo, terrorized the Washington DC neighborhood with a series of random sniper attacks, eventually killing 10 people. At the site of the first shooting, a gas station, a white van was seen racing from the scene of the crime. It was assumed to be the vehicle used by the shooters and for several weeks, as many readers will remember, police road blocks nation-wide focused on white vans.
At one of the crime scenes investigators found a magazine clip with fingerprints on it. These were subsequently identified as belonging to Lee Malvo, who was known to associate with John Muhammad, who, in turn, had purchased a former police car, a blue Chevrolet Caprice, one month previously. The vehicle was spotted parked at an Interstate rest stop in Maryland and the two suspects were arrested.
The significance of this story is that on three occasions the blue Caprice had been stopped at police road blocks and allowed to proceed. Why? Because the misconception of the white van so colored the perception of both the police and the public that they could not objectively see what was in front of them.
Broadly speaking there are two types of beekeepers, what I am choosing to call Programmed and Reactive. The first is typical of new and commercial beekeepers. Most of the former are looking for an annual cycle in which certain actions are required on all colonies at specific times. Thus, for example, if they believe that it is customary to switch boxes in the spring, they will switch all boxes, irrespective of the position of the brood or the strength of the colony. If they believe that most beekeepers replace queens annually, they will replace their queens irrespective of how well she is performing. If they believe it is necessary to treat for varroa late in the summer, all colonies will get treated irrespective of whether the bees are themselves controlling the mites or not. Hence the term ‘Programmed.’
The point is that they are so focused on a particular manipulation that they cannot see what else is happening in the hive. Preconceptions outweigh reality. “Just tell me what to do and when to do it,” is a request I receive from many who are new to this wonderful hobby. In response it is important to explain what the options are, and the reasons for choosing one option over another.
In the case of commercial beekeepers, as Charles Linder makes clear in a recent series in The American Bee Journal, most are acutely aware of the conditions of their colonies but the sheer size of the operation and the pressures of time and profit minimize their choices.
With good mentoring, confidence, and experience of both the annual life cycle of a colony and the biology of a honey bee, most new beekeepers become more responsive to the needs of particular hives. Thus, for example, they might question whether it is really necessary to switch boxes, and if so, which ones. They will evaluate each queen before making a decision to replace her, and will complete a mite test on each colony before deciding if and when to treat.
They have a tool box of management strategies at their disposal, with the confidence and experience to use them. They react to, are respectful of, and are guided by, the bees, rather than imposing themselves on their charges. Hence the term Reactive.
Certainly there are some beekeepers who never move from program to reaction, and I don’t know why. Certainly it has nothing to do with intelligence as we traditionally understand it.
Proud as I am of my powers of observation, I can be as willfully blind as anyone. David Papke and I meet several times a month over a cup of coffee to discuss honey bees, review journal articles, and share stories and experiences. In mid-September I arrived five minutes early at the Village Coffee Shop in Shrewsbury and, not seeing David’s silver-colored truck, assumed that I was first there, only to see him seated at one of the tables as I entered. On this occasion he had driven the white sedan, which was only two bays away from where I had parked. Yet based on my presumptions it was effectively invisible. My expectations outweighed reality.
The same happens when I am looking for a particular can or package in the pantry based on my preconception of what it looks like. When I summon Mary for help, she points out that it is right in front of my nose but in a different looking container.
This autumn Mary has been making a delicious sauce from our apple drops. Last night I remarked on how well the sauce complimented the rest of the dinner. “Jeremy dear,” she replied,”That’s mashed potatoes, not apple sauce.” Only then did I taste the potatoes.
There are many reasons why some people become committed to managing honey bees. For me, a significant one is the constant challenge of reading a hive and then reacting appropriately. It is like a living Sudoku puzzle or an animated crossword. The parameters may be the same each time but the specifics are unique, neither can be solved based on preconceptions, and the sense of satisfaction when one responds successfully never diminishes.
Our Green Cathedral 