Flipping the “Hive Switch”
I played linebacker for our high school football team, and we were pretty good. We only lost 2 games during my Junior and Senior season combined. We’d have thousands of fans come out to our games all decked out in blue and white. When we’d score a touchdown, you’d hear an enormous chant of our mantra, “You can’t stop that blue train! You can’t stop that blue train!” It was a lot of fun being on a good team with a group of some of my best friends.
I don’t see my old football buddies often, but when I do see them, I always notice how fondly we talk about those days. Several of my friends can remember intimate details of specific plays and situations. It’s remarkable. I previously thought that we do that because of the memory of the glory and attention, and perhaps because our current situations are less exciting. But then I read a book that helped me see this a bit differently.
In his book, “The Righteous Mind,” Jonathan Haidt proposed the idea that humans are 90% chimp and 10% bee — meaning that we are both selfish and “groupish”. We put our own needs first most of the time, but sometimes we flip what he calls the “hive switch”. When we flip the hive switch, “we transcend self-interest and lose ourselves in something larger than ourselves.” In this state we are willing to work hard for the good of the group, putting the needs of the group before our own. The hive switch brings a sense of euphoria as if we’re living life on a higher plane of existence. He gives examples of how veterans often talk about their time at war alongside their comrades in arms, as the highlight of their life. As soon as I read this, high school football popped into my head, and I finally realized why those days were so special. High school football flips the hive switch. Football, perhaps more than any other sport, requires intricate teamwork, and the physicality of the game resembles going to war against the enemy. The players and the fans celebrate success and mourn failure as a group, each individual participating in the joy and sorrow of the group’s success and failures.
After reading about this analogy, I wanted to do some more research about bees and chimps to better understand their differences.
Bees are amazing creatures. They coordinate among swarms of 10 to 60 thousand bees to produce one of the world’s most amazing substances. Each bee works tirelessly for the good of the hive and the hive as a whole is a spectacle. However, the life of a single bee can be quite unimpressive. In their life span of between a few weeks and a few months, they make about 1/12 of a teaspoon of honey. One twelfth! Put yourself in the shoes of a bee, on its deathbed, evaluating its life of producing honey. If it focused on what if had achieved individually, I’m sure it would be overwhelmed with a sense of insignificance. However, if it considered the accomplishments of the hive, which it contributed to, it would feel a wonderful sense of accomplishment and belonging.
Chimps are dramatically different than bees. Rather than an indisputable leader like a queen bee, they have an alpha male who runs a tribe of between 20 and 120 chimps. Chimps can challenge the alpha through either brute force or political maneuvering. Unlike the equal status among bees, the rest of the chimps fall into a natural power lineup. Instead of participating in the progress and accomplishment of the hive, chimps have to be on their guard to maintain their social standing.
Our society seems to function more like a chimp tribe than a beehive, but not always and it doesn’t have to. What I take from this analogy is that being selfish limits the success and joy we experience in life to our own achievements and personal fulfillment. Being groupish allows us to enjoy the achievements, successes, and happiness of the group. As part of the group, we celebrate the successes of each member and of the group as a whole. I believe that’s why soldiers look back to their service with nostalgia; they were part of a hive. The feeling of knowing everyone’s got your back and the willingness to sacrifice for your comrades brings a deep sense of belonging and purpose.
I see this true in my parents. They love to take relaxing vacations just the two of them and have visited some of the most beautiful places in the world. Despite how happy those trips make them, it pales in comparison to the joy they feel when they see their children and grandchildren gather and show love to each other. This past Christmas, I saw my father weeping because of the joy he felt as we all gathered around the Christmas tree. You can’t find that on the beach in Hawaii.
I encourage us all to find ways to flip our own hive switch and seek out the oneness and deep spiritual satisfaction that comes from being a member of the hive.
