A Better Beehive; or, Whoa, Nellie!
Author’s note: I am not an expert on the honey bee. There are experts who do not go as far as I am about to. That gives me pause. I go forward because diversity of observations and dissent are not what’s wrong with beekeeping.
By Andrew Burnett - 4 Min Read
"We have never known what we were doing because we have never known what we were undoing. We cannot know what we are doing until we know what nature would be doing if we were doing nothing." - Wendell Berry, Preserving Wildness, as quoted in The Lives of Bees, by Tom Seeley “though of real knowledge there be little, yet of books there are a plenty;” - Herman Melville, Moby Dick “You can never tell with bees.” - Winnie the Pooh

I began this series of posts on a better beehive on a premise that I think is false. I began on the premise that the Langstroth hive–the hive used by nearly all beekeepers in the U.S.–best meets the natural history of the honey bee. I don't think that is true. There are hives that better meet the honey bee as she is.
For a moment, ponder the results of beekeeping. How are beekeepers doing? We make the news for mass death more than most. Why? It’s hard to say. We lack an essential bit of context. We don’t know what we’re doing because we know too little about what the honey bee does when we do nothing. How she lives according to her own judgments, behaviors, and solutions. We have all sorts of other boggy ideas too. We elevate business over biology. We elevate convenience and economy over biology. We look for quick solutions rather than enduring solutions. We do all this reflexively. A reflexive narrowing of thought is native to agribusiness, which dominates beekeeping.
How could American beekeepers be beekeeping in a less than optimal way? How could we all be wrong? Aren’t we Americans, as people, quick to implement scientific practices and adjust when we’re wrong? Why wouldn’t we adjust?
In the U.S. most beekeepers use Langstroth hives. I'm wearing a Langstroth hive above. Langstroth hives have much going for them. They’re cheap. They harness the scale and systems of modern industrial production. They are technically simple and modular–you can add all sorts of gizmos. They don’t last too long so the customer is always returning. That’s good for business. The external dimensions of the Langstroth hive fit together without wasted space between hives. This allows beekeepers to stack beehives on the back of trucks for efficient transportation. In keeping with biology > industry let it be said that in nature bees take up residence in a tree, stay put and seem mighty content.
The big knock is the Langstroth hive runs afoul of how bees build a nest in nature.
The Langstroth hive expands vertically up. Beekeepers stack boxes on top of each other to expand. It’s convenient enough if you have a strong back, like hefting things, have lots of drawn comb, and find labor meaningful.
Bees do not expand vertically up in nature. In the wild, honey bees usually live in tree hollows. When a swarm of bees takes up residence in a tree hollow, they usually begin constructing their comb near the top of the cavity. They expand downward, or laterally and then downward. Beeswax honey comb is structurally strongest when hanging vertically. It is exceptional for bees to start at the bottom and build up. It is exceptional for bees to start on the side and continue out.
The blind Swiss naturalist François Huber and his team demonstrated this over 200 years ago with simple, elegant experiments. They put bees in a cavity where they could not attach comb to the ceiling. The bees built their comb from the bottom up. Next, Huber prevented the bees from building from the top and bottom. The bees affixed their comb to the side of the hive and built out laterally.
I have tested how bees readily expand with Quick and Dirty Science™. Beehives in the same place, foraging from the same blooms, and of comparable strength fill a second box much quicker when you put the second box under the original box than when you put the second box on top. This is not a perfect test as honey bees prefer building comb in the direction of the entrance to their hive, which is under the bottom box. In this test, that favors the buildout of the bottom box.
In Langsroth hives bees can also be stubborn about storing honey in “supers.” Supers are the boxes beekeepers place on top of the main portion of the hive. It's where beekeepers hope bees will store honey. Bees can be resistant because expanding nest architecture upward is not reflexive to their nature. Bees can “seal” the upper extent of their hive with a honey barrier and just not act upon the room above. I have not seen nor heard this happening with lateral expansion. It seems second nature. Actually, seems primary nature if that’s a thing.
This may be why bees in Langstroth hives seem to swarm more than bees in top bar hives. All this can be overcome, but at what cost? Why begin with a nest arrangement that goes against bees' natural behaviors? Why do we elevate industry/convenience/our love of newfangled contrivances over honey bee biology. What does that say about us?
In the matter of the natural structure and function of the honey bee nest I think it is likely that "primitive" honey hunters around the world, from Europe and Asia to Africa have held and may hold a good deal more knowledge than the scientific establishment. They know what the honey bee does when we do nothing. The reason is simple. They have peered into more honey bee tree hollows than scientists. Nearly all honey bee science (apiculture) studies honey bees in man-made boxes, mostly Langstroth. Our unquestioned assumptions at the outset may hinder us a good deal.

I came up in the American industrial beekeeping model. In a fine bit of cultural snobbery, I thought regions that are slower to implement scientific findings keep bees in top bar hives. I may have been wrong. I may also be wrong now.