If it’s spring, the bees must be disappearing. Again.
It is, however, mathematically impossible for any species to be in an allegedly continuous and calamitous state of decline over nearly two decades and never actually reduce in number. For despite the steady supply of grave warnings regarding their imminent collapse, Canada’s bees are actually buzzing with life.
As for beekeepers, their numbers have also been growing steadily, and now stand at 15,430—the most recorded since 1988. As CAPA’s report acknowledges, “the Canadian beekeeping industry has been resilient and able to grow, as proven by the overall increase in the number of bee colonies since 2007 despite the difficulties faced every winter.”
How is this possible? As is usually the case where there’s a need to be filled, the market holds the answer.
It is true that Canadian honey bees face a long list of threats and challenges ranging from mites and viruses to Canada’s harsh winters. It is also true that they perform a crucial service in pollinating crops, the value of which is estimated at $7 billion annually. However, this underscores the fact that bees are a livestock bred for a particular agricultural purpose, no different from cattle, chickens or pen-raised salmon. They are a business.
And in spite of its alleged status as an environmental totem, the honey bee isn’t even native to North America. It was first imported by European settlers for its honey-making abilities in the 1600s. Since then, it has been cultivated with deliberate commercial intent—allowing it to outcompete native pollinators such as bumble bees and butterflies even though it is poorly suited to the local winter. (This highlights the irony of all those native-plant pollinator gardens virtuously installed in neighbourhoods across Canada that end up supporting an invasive honey bee population.)
The significance of the bee economy means that when a beehive collapses over the winter for whatever reason, beekeepers have plenty of motivation to regenerate that colony as swiftly as possible. While hives can create their own queens over time, this can be a slow process given the cold Canadian climate. The better option is to simply buy a new queen from a warmer country.
As a result, even a devastating 50 percent winter loss rate—something that has occurred only rarely in Canada in individual provinces and never nationally—isn’t necessarily fatal to any beekeeping operation. The beekeeper can purchase imported queens in April, split their existing colonies, and be back in business by May or June.
As the New Zealand report observes, “Headlines of honey bee colony losses have given an impression of large-scale global decline of the bee population that endangers beekeeping, and that the world is on the verge of mass starvation.” Such claims, the authors note, are “somewhat inaccurate.” In truth, things have never been better for bees around the world.
Here in Canada, the ability to import queens from other countries, together with their prodigious reproductive capabilities, backstops the amazing resiliency of the bee industry. Yes, bees die, sometimes in large numbers. But—and this is the bit the headlines always ignore—they come back. Because the market needs them to come back.
If there is a real threat to Canada’s bee population, it’s not environmental. It’s the risk that unencumbered trade in bees might somehow be disrupted by tariffs or similar bone-headed human interventions. Left on their own, bees have no problem keeping busy.
