20 000 species of bees: Why everything you thought you knew about the hive is probably wrong

20 000 species of bees: Why everything you thought you knew about the hive is probably wrong

Most people imagine a wooden box, a white suit, and a swarm of gold-and-black insects making honey. That’s the honeybee. It’s one single species (Apis mellifera). But there are actually 20 000 species of bees on this planet, and honestly, the honeybee is the weird one. Most bees don't live in hives. They don't have queens. They don't even make honey.

Think about that for a second.

We’ve spent decades obsessing over one species while ignoring 19,999 others that are arguably doing more heavy lifting for our ecosystem. Most of these bees are "solitary," meaning they’re just single moms living in a hole in the ground or a hollowed-out twig, trying to gather enough pollen for their kids before they die. They don’t have an army to protect them. They don't have a beekeeper. They just have grit.

The Massive Diversity You’re Missing

If you went out to your garden right now, you might see a tiny green flash. That’s not a fly; it’s likely a sweat bee from the Halictidae family. They’re metallic, bright, and they love your salt. Some are as big as a thumb—like the Wallace’s Giant Bee (Megachile pluto), which was actually thought to be extinct until it was rediscovered in Indonesia back in 2019. Others are smaller than a grain of rice. The variety within the 20 000 species of bees is staggering, ranging from the desert-dwelling specialists in Arizona to the high-altitude survivors in the Himalayas.

Why does this matter? Because pollination isn't a "one size fits all" job. A honeybee is actually pretty bad at pollinating tomatoes. They can’t do "buzz pollination." But a bumblebee? They grab the flower and vibrate their entire bodies at a specific frequency to shake the pollen loose. Without that specific mechanical vibration, you don't get a tomato. You don't get blueberries either. We rely on this massive biological workforce, yet we barely know their names.

Forget the Hive: The Solitary Life

About 70% of those 20 000 species of bees live underground. They aren't social. They don't want to live with a thousand sisters. A female ground-nesting bee wakes up, finds a patch of bare soil, digs a tunnel, and creates "brood cells." She lines these cells with a waterproof secretion that researchers sometimes call "bee silk" or "cellophane." It’s basically a biological Tupperware. She leaves a ball of pollen and nectar (a "pollen ball"), lays an egg on it, and seals the door.

She'll never see her children.

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Then you have the cavity nesters. These are the ones people try to help with "bee hotels." They use mud, chewed-up leaves, or even resin to build walls between their eggs inside old beetle holes or hollow reeds. The Leafcutter bee (Megachile) is a perfectionist. You’ll see neat, circular holes cut out of your rose leaves. She isn’t eating them. She’s using those pieces like wallpaper to protect her larvae. It’s architectural genius on a microscopic scale.

Where the 20 000 species of bees are actually disappearing

You’ve heard "Save the Bees." It’s a great slogan. The problem is that most people think it means "Buy more honeybees."

Actually, that can make things worse.

Honeybees are basically livestock. Putting a massive honeybee hive in a public park is kind of like releasing 50,000 chickens into a wild forest and expecting it to help the local bird population. They compete for the same flowers. They can spread diseases to the wild, native species that are already struggling. The real crisis isn't a lack of honey; it's the loss of the 20 000 species of bees that have evolved alongside specific wild plants for millions of years.

According to Dr. Elizabeth Crone at Tufts University and other leading entomologists, the biggest threats aren't just one thing. It’s the "death by a thousand cuts." Habitat loss is the big one. We pave over the dirt they need to nest in. We spray "cosmetic" pesticides on lawns because we hate dandelions—which happen to be a vital early-season food source. Then there’s climate change, which is causing "phenological mismatch." That’s a fancy way of saying the flowers are blooming before the bees wake up from hibernation. If the timing is off by even a week, the bees starve, and the flowers don't get pollinated.

The Weirdos: Vultures, Cuckoos, and Night Owls

Not every bee is a hardworking pollen collector. Nature is weirder than that.

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  • Vulture Bees: In the tropics, there are bees that have evolved to eat rotting meat instead of pollen. They make "meat honey" (technically a protein-rich secretion). It sounds like a horror movie, but they’re vital decomposers.
  • Cuckoo Bees: Just like the bird, these bees are kleptoparasites. They don’t build nests. They wait for a hardworking solitary bee to leave her hole, then they sneak in and lay their own egg. The cuckoo larva hatches first and eats the host’s food.
  • Nocturnal Bees: In the deserts of Central America and parts of Africa, some bees only come out at night. They have massive "ocelli" (simple eyes) to see in the dark, pollinating flowers that only open under the moon.

This is the complexity we lose when we simplify the conversation. We aren't just losing a "bug." We’re losing 20,000 different ways of surviving on Earth.

How to actually help (without becoming a beekeeper)

If you want to support the 20 000 species of bees, you don't need a hive. You need a mess.

Neatness is the enemy of biodiversity. A perfectly manicured green lawn is a biological desert for a bee. It has no food and no place to hide. If you want to make a difference, you have to change how you look at your outdoor space. Stop thinking of it as a carpet and start thinking of it as a cafeteria.

Stop Mulching Everything

Wood chips and heavy mulch are great for weed control, but they’re a literal wall for ground-nesting bees. Leave some patches of bare, sunny soil. It might look "unfinished" to your neighbors, but to a Colletes bee, it’s a luxury apartment complex.

Plant for the Seasons

Most people plant flowers that bloom in June and July. But what about the bees that emerge in March? Or the ones still foraging in October? You need a "succession" of blooms. Willow and maple trees are huge early-season food sources. Goldenrod and asters are the late-season fuel for bees preparing for winter.

Rethink the "Bee Hotel"

Those cute wooden houses from the hardware store? They can be death traps. If they aren't cleaned out every year, they build up mites and fungal spores that kill the larvae. If you use them, make sure the "tubes" are replaceable (like paper straws) or that you can take the block apart to scrub it. Otherwise, you're just building a buffet for parasites.

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The "No Mow" Reality

"No Mow May" is a popular trend, but it shouldn't just be one month. Let the clover grow. Let the violets stay. These "weeds" are the primary survival tools for the 20 000 species of bees living in your neighborhood.

A Shift in Perspective

We need to stop viewing bees through the lens of what they "give" us—like honey or wax—and start seeing them as the glue holding the terrestrial world together. Without the specialized pollination from these thousands of species, our grocery stores would look bleak. No almonds. No coffee. No chocolate. No pumpkins.

It’s easy to feel helpless about global insect declines. But unlike saving whales or polar bears, you can actually help bees in your own backyard, or even on a balcony with a few pots of native flowers. You don't need a PhD. You just need to provide two things: flowers and a place to sleep.

The diversity of the 20 000 species of bees is a testament to how life finds a way to fill every niche, from the driest deserts to the highest peaks. Protecting them isn't just about "saving the environment" in a vague sense. It’s about ensuring that the intricate, invisible machinery of the natural world keeps turning.

Next Steps for Action:

  • Identify your locals: Use an app like iNaturalist to photograph bees in your area. You’ll quickly realize how many aren't honeybees.
  • Source native seeds: Avoid "wildflower mixes" from big-box stores; they often contain invasive species. Find a local native plant nursery.
  • Leave the leaves: Many bees overwinter in leaf litter. Wait until temperatures are consistently above 50°F in the spring before doing your "garden cleanup."
  • Check the labels: Ensure any plants you buy haven't been treated with neonicotinoids, a class of systemic pesticides that remain toxic to bees for months.