Photo by leandro fregoni on Unsplash
The Suffering of Bees and
the Polycentric Love of God
"Although a bee has a brain the size of a poppy seed, recent studies have shown that the tiny creatures can learn, think, and perhaps even feel emotion."
— Can Bees Feel Emotions? New Study Suggests They Are Sentient, Madeleine Muzdakis, April 26, 2023
For process philosophers and theologians, the idea that bees feel emotions is hardly surprising. What is surprising is that they were ever considered mere machines. Contrary to the mechanistic views developed in the West in the 17th century, which reduced living beings to automatons responding only to external stimuli, process thought recognizes that experience is always accompanied by emotion—being itself is inherently experiential.
In Process and Reality, Whitehead identifies emotions as one of the eight fundamental categories of existence, referring to them as "subjective forms." This means that momentary experiences, as enjoyed or suffered by individual actual entities, are always emotional in some way. Among the most basic emotions Whitehead describes are adversion (attraction) and aversion (repulsion), but many others exist, including curiosity, fear, anticipation, frustration, contentment, and joy.
The Emotional Lives of Bees
Recent experiments suggest that bees do, in fact, experience emotions. See: "Bees May Feel Pain: Study suggests all insects may be sentient," Virginia Morell, Science, July 26, 2022. Here's a quote from the articles in Science with some links:
"Previous research has shown honey bees and bumble bees are intelligent, innovative, creatures. They understand the concept of zero, can do simple math, and distinguish among human faces (and probably bee faces, too). They’re usually optimistic when successfully foraging, but can become depressed if momentarily trapped by a predatory spider. Even when a bee escapes a spider, “her demeanor changes; for days after, she’s scared of every flower,” says Lars Chittka, a cognitive scientist at Queen Mary University of London whose lab carried out that study as well as the new research. “They were experiencing an emotional state.”
If bees have emotions, then they are not mere biological machines but feeling beings with subjective experiences. This realization challenges us to rethink our relationship with them and, more broadly, with all living creatures. It suggests that bees have what process theologians call intrinsic value—they matter not just because of their role in ecosystems or human agriculture, but because they experience the world in their own way. Their lives are valuable for themselves, regardless of their usefulness to us.
Of course, bees also have instrumental value—they pollinate plants, support biodiversity, and contribute to the health of our planet. But if we only see them through this lens, we risk reducing them to mere resources rather than respecting them as individuals. Recognizing their emotional lives invites us to extend moral consideration to them, not just as a species but as distinct beings who, in their own way, experience joy, fear, and attraction.
Moreover, we often think of bees as hive creatures, emphasizing their social organization and collective purpose. But this is only part of the picture. While honeybees and bumblebees live in colonies, the vast majority of bee species are solitary—each individual lives independently, builds its own nest, and forages alone. This strengthens the case for recognizing bees as individual beings with their own experiences, struggles, and desires—not just as parts of an ecological system but as subjects in their own right.
Theological Implications: Bees in God, God in Bees
This realization also broadens our understanding of God, at least if we embrace open and relational (process) perspectives. In process theology, God is present within each creature as an innermost lure toward flourishing: the initial aim. This means that God is inside bees, guiding their actions in subtle ways—shaping their instincts, their foraging, their navigation, and their survival.
But process theology also holds that God receives the experiences of all living beings into the divine life. This means that bees are inside God—their emotions, movements, and struggles are registered in and become part of the ongoing experience of God. If bees feel attraction and aversion, then God feels them too.
One of the most profound challenges offered by a Whiteheadian or process approach to bees is that it disrupts the assumption that human life—and perhaps the lives of large animals—are at the center of divine concern, while other forms of life are merely incidental. Instead of a human-centered or even mammal-centered theology, our view of God is widened, or polycentrized.
This does not mean that, from a divine perspective, all sentient beings experience life with the same intensity as humans or other mammals. It may be that certain creatures, such as bees, suffer less than we do. But it is also possible that they suffer as much or even more. We do not know. What we do know is that we must walk humbly on this planet, recognizing that we are not at the center of things and that, in fact, there are many centers—countless in number.
Polycentric Love: A Widened View of the Divine
Polycentrism suggests that no single species, including humans, is the exclusive focus of divine attention. The divine is not solely or even primarily concerned with human affairs but is intimately involved in the experiences of all living beings, from the largest whale to the smallest bee. Each moment of experience, no matter how small, contributes to the ever-evolving life of God.
This leads us to a deeper understanding of divine love—not as a hierarchical structure, where certain creatures receive more attention or care than others, but as polycentric love. Polycentric love is the idea that divine care and relationality extend to all beings, not in a uniform way, but in ways appropriate to their existence, experience, and needs. It does not flatten the distinctions between species but affirms that no being is outside the web of divine concern.
This perspective invites a more expansive and ecologically grounded spirituality—one that recognizes the sacredness of all sentient life. It challenges us to extend reverence not just to the creatures we traditionally deem worthy of moral concern but to all beings who feel, respond, and exist in the flow of experience.
A Call for Polycentric Humility
If polycentric love shifts our theological outlook from a human-centered to a multi-centered perspective, then polycentric humility is the corresponding ethical posture. Polycentric humility means recognizing that we are but one form of sentient life among many, one mode of experiencing the world among countless others. It is a humility that resists the impulse to place ourselves at the center of divine concern, moral consideration, or even ecological priority.
To practice polycentric humility is to acknowledge that our experiences, though unique and meaningful, are not the measure of all existence. It means we approach other beings—not just fellow humans, but insects, plants, and perhaps also ecosystems—as subjects in their own right rather than as mere instruments of our well-being. It is a humility that listens rather than assumes, that observes rather than dominates, and that seeks relationship rather than control.
In an era of ecological crisis, polycentric humility challenges us to reconsider how we live among other forms of life. Do we cultivate habitats that allow for the flourishing of species beyond our own? Do we recognize the intelligence, emotions, and intrinsic value of creatures we once dismissed as insignificant? Do we allow ourselves to be decentered in the grand tapestry of life?
If we take seriously the emotional lives of bees, we may find ourselves called into a new kind of spiritual and ethical practice—one that moves beyond dominion and stewardship to something more radical: humble companionship within the wider web of existence.
How might polycentric humility shape our actions, our theologies, and our ways of being in the world? These are the kinds of questions that arise when we take seriously the emotional lives of bees—and, by extension, all creatures who share our world.
- Jay McDaniel
— Can Bees Feel Emotions? New Study Suggests They Are Sentient, Madeleine Muzdakis, April 26, 2023
For process philosophers and theologians, the idea that bees feel emotions is hardly surprising. What is surprising is that they were ever considered mere machines. Contrary to the mechanistic views developed in the West in the 17th century, which reduced living beings to automatons responding only to external stimuli, process thought recognizes that experience is always accompanied by emotion—being itself is inherently experiential.
In Process and Reality, Whitehead identifies emotions as one of the eight fundamental categories of existence, referring to them as "subjective forms." This means that momentary experiences, as enjoyed or suffered by individual actual entities, are always emotional in some way. Among the most basic emotions Whitehead describes are adversion (attraction) and aversion (repulsion), but many others exist, including curiosity, fear, anticipation, frustration, contentment, and joy.
The Emotional Lives of Bees
Recent experiments suggest that bees do, in fact, experience emotions. See: "Bees May Feel Pain: Study suggests all insects may be sentient," Virginia Morell, Science, July 26, 2022. Here's a quote from the articles in Science with some links:
"Previous research has shown honey bees and bumble bees are intelligent, innovative, creatures. They understand the concept of zero, can do simple math, and distinguish among human faces (and probably bee faces, too). They’re usually optimistic when successfully foraging, but can become depressed if momentarily trapped by a predatory spider. Even when a bee escapes a spider, “her demeanor changes; for days after, she’s scared of every flower,” says Lars Chittka, a cognitive scientist at Queen Mary University of London whose lab carried out that study as well as the new research. “They were experiencing an emotional state.”
If bees have emotions, then they are not mere biological machines but feeling beings with subjective experiences. This realization challenges us to rethink our relationship with them and, more broadly, with all living creatures. It suggests that bees have what process theologians call intrinsic value—they matter not just because of their role in ecosystems or human agriculture, but because they experience the world in their own way. Their lives are valuable for themselves, regardless of their usefulness to us.
Of course, bees also have instrumental value—they pollinate plants, support biodiversity, and contribute to the health of our planet. But if we only see them through this lens, we risk reducing them to mere resources rather than respecting them as individuals. Recognizing their emotional lives invites us to extend moral consideration to them, not just as a species but as distinct beings who, in their own way, experience joy, fear, and attraction.
Moreover, we often think of bees as hive creatures, emphasizing their social organization and collective purpose. But this is only part of the picture. While honeybees and bumblebees live in colonies, the vast majority of bee species are solitary—each individual lives independently, builds its own nest, and forages alone. This strengthens the case for recognizing bees as individual beings with their own experiences, struggles, and desires—not just as parts of an ecological system but as subjects in their own right.
Theological Implications: Bees in God, God in Bees
This realization also broadens our understanding of God, at least if we embrace open and relational (process) perspectives. In process theology, God is present within each creature as an innermost lure toward flourishing: the initial aim. This means that God is inside bees, guiding their actions in subtle ways—shaping their instincts, their foraging, their navigation, and their survival.
But process theology also holds that God receives the experiences of all living beings into the divine life. This means that bees are inside God—their emotions, movements, and struggles are registered in and become part of the ongoing experience of God. If bees feel attraction and aversion, then God feels them too.
One of the most profound challenges offered by a Whiteheadian or process approach to bees is that it disrupts the assumption that human life—and perhaps the lives of large animals—are at the center of divine concern, while other forms of life are merely incidental. Instead of a human-centered or even mammal-centered theology, our view of God is widened, or polycentrized.
This does not mean that, from a divine perspective, all sentient beings experience life with the same intensity as humans or other mammals. It may be that certain creatures, such as bees, suffer less than we do. But it is also possible that they suffer as much or even more. We do not know. What we do know is that we must walk humbly on this planet, recognizing that we are not at the center of things and that, in fact, there are many centers—countless in number.
Polycentric Love: A Widened View of the Divine
Polycentrism suggests that no single species, including humans, is the exclusive focus of divine attention. The divine is not solely or even primarily concerned with human affairs but is intimately involved in the experiences of all living beings, from the largest whale to the smallest bee. Each moment of experience, no matter how small, contributes to the ever-evolving life of God.
This leads us to a deeper understanding of divine love—not as a hierarchical structure, where certain creatures receive more attention or care than others, but as polycentric love. Polycentric love is the idea that divine care and relationality extend to all beings, not in a uniform way, but in ways appropriate to their existence, experience, and needs. It does not flatten the distinctions between species but affirms that no being is outside the web of divine concern.
This perspective invites a more expansive and ecologically grounded spirituality—one that recognizes the sacredness of all sentient life. It challenges us to extend reverence not just to the creatures we traditionally deem worthy of moral concern but to all beings who feel, respond, and exist in the flow of experience.
A Call for Polycentric Humility
If polycentric love shifts our theological outlook from a human-centered to a multi-centered perspective, then polycentric humility is the corresponding ethical posture. Polycentric humility means recognizing that we are but one form of sentient life among many, one mode of experiencing the world among countless others. It is a humility that resists the impulse to place ourselves at the center of divine concern, moral consideration, or even ecological priority.
To practice polycentric humility is to acknowledge that our experiences, though unique and meaningful, are not the measure of all existence. It means we approach other beings—not just fellow humans, but insects, plants, and perhaps also ecosystems—as subjects in their own right rather than as mere instruments of our well-being. It is a humility that listens rather than assumes, that observes rather than dominates, and that seeks relationship rather than control.
In an era of ecological crisis, polycentric humility challenges us to reconsider how we live among other forms of life. Do we cultivate habitats that allow for the flourishing of species beyond our own? Do we recognize the intelligence, emotions, and intrinsic value of creatures we once dismissed as insignificant? Do we allow ourselves to be decentered in the grand tapestry of life?
If we take seriously the emotional lives of bees, we may find ourselves called into a new kind of spiritual and ethical practice—one that moves beyond dominion and stewardship to something more radical: humble companionship within the wider web of existence.
How might polycentric humility shape our actions, our theologies, and our ways of being in the world? These are the kinds of questions that arise when we take seriously the emotional lives of bees—and, by extension, all creatures who share our world.
- Jay McDaniel
"For many of us, the buzzing of a bee elicits panic. But the next time you hear that low droning sound, look closer: the bee has navigated to this particular spot for a reason using a fascinating set of tools. She may be using her sensitive olfactory organs, which provide a 3D scent map of her surroundings. She may be following visual landmarks or instructions relayed by a hive-mate. She may even be tracking electrostatic traces left on flowers by other bees. What a Bee Knows: Exploring the Thoughts, Memories, and Personalities of Bees invites us to follow bees' mysterious paths and experience their alien world.
Although their brains are incredibly small--just one million neurons compared to humans' 100 billion--bees have remarkable abilities to navigate, learn, communicate, and remember. In What a Bee Knows, entomologist Stephen Buchmann explores a bee's way of seeing the world and introduces the scientists who make the journey possible. We travel into the field and to the laboratories of noted bee biologists who have spent their careers digging into the questions most of us never thought to ask (for example: Do bees dream? And if so, why?). With each discovery, Buchmann's insatiable curiosity and sense of wonder is infectious.
What a Bee Knows will challenge your idea of a bee's place in the world--and perhaps our own. This lively journey into a bee's mind reminds us that the world is more complex than our senses can tell us."
Although their brains are incredibly small--just one million neurons compared to humans' 100 billion--bees have remarkable abilities to navigate, learn, communicate, and remember. In What a Bee Knows, entomologist Stephen Buchmann explores a bee's way of seeing the world and introduces the scientists who make the journey possible. We travel into the field and to the laboratories of noted bee biologists who have spent their careers digging into the questions most of us never thought to ask (for example: Do bees dream? And if so, why?). With each discovery, Buchmann's insatiable curiosity and sense of wonder is infectious.
What a Bee Knows will challenge your idea of a bee's place in the world--and perhaps our own. This lively journey into a bee's mind reminds us that the world is more complex than our senses can tell us."