The Buzz About Chornobyl, 40 Years Later. How Do We Tell the Bees?
No, the bees in the Chornobyl exclusion zone (CEZ) are not mutated–in the visual ways we think of–nor are they glow-in-the-dark. They didn’t turn into giant, killer bees, and they don’t light up green at night. But what they did do was begin to produce fewer and fewer queens. A lot fewer, “with upper estimates of a 30-45% reduction compared with unexposed colonies (Raines).” When fewer queens are produced, fewer bees are produced, period. With fewer queens laying eggs and building colonies, the population struggles to sustain itself within the CEZ.
On the surface and from the outside, it appears that nature is “flourishing” within the CEZ. Large mammal populations appear abundant, and many use the CEZ as evidence for the utopic idea that there has been reclamation of the Earth in the zone’s time without human interference. While this idea certainly feels hopeful outside of the context of a nuclear disaster, it is simply not what it seems. “Wild” dogs roam the CEZ, which are not so wild at all, but actually descendants of the pets left behind in the evacuation after the meltdown. Larger mammals like boars and bears have taken over the area in the exclusion zone simply because there are no humans, can be no humans, around the zone to keep them at a distance as human-populated areas do. And there indeed appears to be a higher diversity rate among bee species in the exclusion zone, but again, this is not as it seems. Researchers correlate this to the abandoned farmlands that have now been overturned to wildflower meadows, creating more resources for diversity, but not necessarily for the long-term health of any species. Similarly, scientists who have studied the population effects of the contamination believe that “higher numbers [of animals in the area] may reflect the fact that there are fewer competitors or predators for these species in highly radioactive areas (Mousseau).”
Additionally, among the various species in the area, a number of ill effects are consistently documented, including cataracts in their eyes, smaller brains, tumors on their bodies, and reproductive issues such as a low sperm count and even complete infertility (Møller, et al). None of which, in my own estimation, bodes well for the idea of an ecological utopia in the aftermath of nuclear contamination. And this is not even mentioning the fact that many scientists believe we don’t see mutations in the fauna of the area (yes, those kinds of mutations) because most mutations, unsurprisingly, wouldn’t exactly help an animal live long enough to be consistently documented by researchers. Which isn’t to say deer are being born with two heads or that fish are growing legs and walking out of the water, all before scientists are miraculously able to see them. What it does imply, however, is that when there are genetic mutations or effects from radioactive contamination that cause, for example, a stunted immune system or a malformed part of the body, at best, the animal is simply not going to thrive long enough to reproduce and continue that mutation. At worst, these animals are born, suffer, and die of their biological weaknesses, whether through predation or through the failings of their own bodies.
If we do not see this as a mirror to ourselves, what happens to those humans exposed to radioactive contamination, be it in the form of a nuclear accident, nuclear terrorism, or the waste produced by mining and power generation? Scientists are now getting long-term data on this exact question. Stated by science researcher, the late Alexey V. Yablokov, “observations of both wild and experimental animal populations in the heavily contaminated areas [of the CEZ] show significant increases in morbidity and mortality that bear a striking resemblance to changes in the health of humans–increased occurrence of tumor and immunodeficiencies, decreased life expectancy, early aging, changes in blood and the circulatory system, malformations, and other factors that compromise health.” Once again, these findings do not seem to bode well for the idea of ecological revitalization in the aftermath of nuclear disaster, so why do we keep racing toward a future full of nuclear reactors that do not glow green as they do in cartoons, but should be lit up bright red–a stoplight, a warning sign? We do not need our communities sitting as tinder boxes of fodder for the next long-term study on the effects of radiation.
It’s additionally worth noting that the dangers of the radiation from Chornobyl didn’t stop after the initial meltdown. Nuclear sites are notorious war targets, as we’ve seen in just the last several years. In 2022, Russian forces attacked and gained control of the Chornobyl site–an exclusion zone intended to minimize risks to human life for the hundreds of years it will remain a radioactive contamination site–damaging the new containment structure and setting it on fire for several days, releasing unknowable amounts of continued radioactive contamination.
I’m going to bring us back to our apiary lesson. In the 18th and 19th centuries, it was common for beekeepers and their families to inform the bee colony, to “tell the bees,” of major events, including births, marriages, and deaths. It was even believed that if a hive was not told of someone’s death, the colony would either die itself or abandon the hive. It seems that there is a race between a world that has seen the aftermath of disaster and is charging, headfirst, back into the flames, and the slow death of the CEZ bees. If we put any stock into that old folk-belief, I wonder then, what happens when there are simply no bees left to tell?
Works Cited
Mousseau Professor of Biological Sciences, Timothy A. “At Chernobyl and Fukushima, Radioactivity Has Seriously Harmed Wildlife.” The Conversation, 3 Oct. 2025, theconversation.com/at-chernobyl-and-fukushima-radioactivity-has-seriously-harmed-wildlife-57030.
Møller, Anders Pape, et al. “Chernobyl birds have smaller brains.” PLoS ONE, vol. 6, no. 2, 4 Feb. 2011, https://doi.org/10.1371/journal.pone.0016862.