Hierarchies. We all have at least one.

wild geese, gray geese, goose-3933488.jpg

” … We are hierarchical animals. Sweep one hierarchy away, and another will take its place, perhaps less palatable than the first.” ~ Camille Paglia

In my March post on honey and its creators, I mentioned I’d address hierarchies later, and now’s the time. Like it or not, there are social structures and organizational charts in a preponderance of institutions. While we are all undoubtedly part of a social structure of some version, some of us take a dim view of the framework. I think that would be short-sighted. There are many examples in nature, which would indicate that structure is necessary for perpetuation. We’ll look at three different life forms–in alphabetical order, of course.

Geese

Every article I found on the social order of geese agrees that they have a strong family structure. One source is Tales, Tails & Feathers of New York, in case you’d like to access full details. However, the upshot is that Papa Goose is the top dog, as it were, and Mama comes after. The most recently hatched goslings have the next rank within the family. This matters since the youngsters from the prior nesting effort may still be around–like 24-year-olds living in the basement. These adolescents do not, however, have any say in the family plans, and they don’t get first dibs on any food caught or found. If they wander too close to the goslings, the gander will retaliate, perhaps even shaking them by the neck and dunking them in the closest body of water. As an aside, geese do use pecking to express displeasure, but aren’t generally as brutal as chickens, from whom the phrase “pecking order” originated, according to Dine a Chook.

Nesting duties are shared, but inflexible. That is, the female is in charge of the nest, from selecting the location to construction and brooding. The gander heads the security detail. Must work for them, though, as they normally mate for life, per All About Birds. Generally the larger ganders mate with the larger females, though the females are always smaller than their mates.

Regarding migration, the leader may be selected based on personality or position, which I interpret to be rank. This might be determined by experience or other criteria. Either way, the leader heads up the flight but doesn’t maintain the lead for the whole trip. Experienced geese swap out that responsibility and each goose in the V flies slightly higher than the one in front of it to minimize wind resistance. 

Honey Bees

Honey bees (Hymeoptera: Apidae: Apis) have strict divisions of labor, per the University of Florida IFAS website. Part of that is the eusocial system, a phrase with which I wasn’t familiar. In case you aren’t either, here’s the definition: “Eusocial (of an animal species, especially an insect) showing an advanced level of social organization, in which a single female or caste produces the offspring and nonreproductive individuals cooperate in caring for the young.”

In the honey bees’ case, these are the assignments:

Drones are male bees that have only one job – to mate with a queen. Not necessarily their queen, as they mate with queens from other colonies to pass the colony’s genes on to the next generation. No, they don’t necessarily stay in their territories throughout their short lives. But that’s it. They do nothing else, but are tolerated by the worker bees in case their services are needed. That is, until they die or autumn arrives, whichever comes first. They’re too much of a drain to support during winter months, per the Canada Agriculture & Food Museum site

Queens are the only female honey bees that are intended to reproduce, which means it’s their responsibility to populate the whole hive. Short job description, but still. Worker bees can produce only drones, and it’s a bad sign for the hive when that occurs.

Workers are female and are the smallest of the honey bees. They have a lot on their little plates since the drones and the queens have short responsibility lists. They exist to expand either the genetic line or the hive itself, and that leaves everything else to the workers. Some of their duties, also from U of FL, are:

  • Collecting pollen and nectar, for which their bodies are specially equipped,
  • Brood care, which might involve caring for their sisters’ needs,
  • Hive maintenance, which might involve mortuary duties,
  • Hive defense,
  • Foraging.

Note that assignments for worker bees vary as the bees age; this progression is known as polyethism. You can learn more about this highly complex organization at the Perfect Bee site.

Wolves

Ok. I admit it. I had preconceived notions about wolf packs that have now been dashed. However, I refuse to change my creature selection at this point, so I’ll brew a cup of coffee and carry on. Contrary to common myth (or just my mistaken idea), a pack can be comprised of just two wolves but is normally from 4-10 members. Another error I made was about pack behaviors, but apparently, I wasn’t in the minority on that. 

According to Wolfhaven.org, the prevailing view was the result of studies done on captive wolves and they concluded that an alpha male and female dominated the entire pack. When the studies switched to wolf packs in the wild, some conclusions changed. While packs that aren’t interrelated still function per the “old” view, it is more likely the dominant breeders primarily exert a high degree of control over their offspring when it’s a family-only pack.

When there are unrelated or multigenerational members, they will likely have specific functions. These might include caring for the dominant couple’s pups while the rest of the pack is hunting or training the pups to hunt. However, there’s a danger in delegating parental duties. In times of limited resources, some of these non-related caregivers might steal food from the pups, so there’s that.

The video provided below shares a different perspective. Since I’m not a wolf biologist, I can’t speak to the veracity of my internet resources in either format, but rest assured some sort of hierarchy is in place.

In order to wrap this up

Humans aren’t the only species that has org. charts. I selected but a few examples from the animal world to illustrate that every little job has to get done, and somebody is going to be charged with the completion of those tasks, one way or the other. According to the Smithsonian, as far back as 130,000 years ago humans were relying on each other for an exchange of goods and information. Even then, no one person or group could do everything.

All of us may not have the job we would choose, but we may well end up with the job we’re best suited to. Or, more likely, we end up with the job we’re most prepared to do. We aren’t young geese, destined to be set aside for the next batch of littles and we aren’t bees, pre-ordained to change jobs as we age. Nor wolf nannies, as far as I know. 

Bob Sutton’s article on LinkedIn has a viewpoint that makes sense, and it follows the title, “Hierarchy is Good. Hierarchy is Essential. And Less isn’t Always Better.” Just like the organizations they should support, structures run the gamut of useful and useless. And as humans, we aren’t stuck in any one job. We can affect change by moving to another organization and place.

Keep in mind, though, that we can’t drop out of every hierarchical structure without living entirely alone. Relationships and family structures can be hierarchical, too. I don’t think I’d enjoy traveling solo through life, even if I’m the top dog.

You?

Starting at 3:03 and viewing through 7:09 will give you the gist of the wolves' social order.

Ma

2 thoughts on “Hierarchies. We all have at least one.”

  1. Complicated topic, but there are some basic truths you express. In the words of two famous singers, “One is the loneliest number that you’ll ever know,” and “Everybody loves somebody sometime…” 🙂

Comments are closed.