How thoughtful! I think you would have been right to put this in a different thread.
Bad News: No matter how civilized and intelligent you are, you will almost always rely on your primal instincts.
The accuracy of that statement varies considerably from person to person, and even within the same person at different points of time. I tend to agree with you except for the "almost always"; my own observations suggest that it is significantly less often than "almost always," if still often overall. This kind of behavior, at its best, is a complement to our rational existence. At its worst it is an abdication of personal responsibility.
I would also distinguish between thoughts and actions; our instincts have considerable access to shape our thoughts (including our emotions, as you later point out), but have much less freedom to shape our actions, as they will encounter the sentient will.
That's when something hit me, and quite a philosophical idea: the bee, dangerous though it was, couldn't have come here on its own. It was past evening, and I couldn't think why this bee would have been stranded at this time. Plus, the closest hive was about two blocks away, on a tree, and there was a lot of darkness in between. For any animal or insect that are not nocturnal, it isn't often wise for them to approach human territory alone for, despite their lack of sufficient intelligence, it would have been either brave or stupid.
First of all, that's awesome that you keep knowledge of the nearest beehive. That not only demonstrates a broader curiosity, but to me it stands out because I think it highlights one of the differences between our cultures. You would rarely hear anybody here say something like that. Then again, maybe it's rare in your country too. I don't know where the nearest hive is. I don't know where any hives are, here. (In fairness, I am also a visitor here, fairly new, and beehive knowledge is one of those bits of trivia that can creep up with time.)
Given what you described, it sounds like the bee was already dying. It was disoriented and behaving in a disordered, dangerous (for itself) manner. That's common for insects when they're about to die.
What did the bee do so wrong?
The bee did nothing wrong. "Wrong" is an irrelevant word. To apply, the bee would have to have been deliberative and self-aware. Its irregular behavior, leading to a collision with the fan, occurred as a natural event. Our perception of its suffering is the result of anthropomorphization.
I include myself in that, to be sure: There are
opiliones (benign spiders with tiny bodies and long legs) everywhere here. They can lose legs in a crisis, and can even deliberately shed legs to effect an escape from danger. I regularly see them with seven legs. Sometimes I see them with six, and this deficiency hinders their movement. Only once have I seen one of them with just five legs. That one is in the bathroom now, apparently still alive after several days. I could not help but feel sorry for it, since a losing a leg is for a spider what getting a strike is in baseball: Three and you're out. The spider doesn't move much, and when it moves it does so with considerable difficulty. Recently another opilion encountered it, and they sat on the wall together for a while before the healthier one moved on.
I decided that I understand so little about the spider's predicament that any attempt to improve its situation would be for my own benefit rather than the spider's, because for the spider any assistive action I took would be a crap shoot. The only meaningful action available to me would be to undertake a crash course in arachnology so that I might better understand this spider's situation. But even that noble maneuver would be subject to the "squeaky wheel" fallacy. What about all the other creatures in distress? If I care enough to help this one, why wouldn't I care enough to help them? It gets overwhelming very quickly: I don't have the means or the desire to be responsible for the wellbeing of so many animals. Thus, it comes back to being self-centered. We don't usually help animals in distress for their sake. We do it for our own sake, to alleviate a perceived suffering (regardless of whether our perception is accurate) and thereby spare ourselves the difficult emotions of pity and sorrow.
I decided quite a while ago that I would not hold myself responsible for the welfare of wildlife. I ignore creepy crawlies indoors when I can, and evict or kill them otherwise. The eviction is mainly for spiders. I have arachnophobia, and used to kill spiders indiscriminately. Letting them live is a helpful therapy. I am not yet quite to the point where I appreciate being crawled on, though. But I digress!
And what was the worth of the bee's life to me, anyway?
To you, almost nothing. That is your nature, and the bee's nature. What if the sun were only able to shine on a single cubic meter of space at a time? It wouldn't be a very useful sun! Its strength is that it can shine everywhere at once. Human concentration and human energy cannot be everywhere at once. Generally, we can only do one thing at a time. Helping a bee in distress does nothing to help you, nothing to help civilization, nothing to help beekind as a whole. It is very likely an utter waste of your time and energy. At the most, your intervention would only soothe your guilty conscience, and provide relief to the bee itself. But the extent of that "help" is questionable. The bee does not possess the faculties to appreciate your gesture. It does not possess the means to experience suffering as we would in a similar situation. Our understanding of other life, or mine anyway, cannot say if the bee could, by any possible sense of the word, "appreciate" your intrusion upon its situation.
The worth of a thing is dependent upon many variables, most of which are subjective. No one is likely to hold it against you for helping a bee (in the future, since this one is dead), but I would encourage you to ponder the justification for such an action until you can explain exactly why you would intervene.
This was my big decision. Should I try to heal it, or just kill it? Would killing a bee make me a murderer? Nevertheless, insects are annoying. Or shall I join the better half of humanity, the kindness, and heal the bee? Or shall I simply analyse it?
I like your last question. In my view, the best thing that bee did for you was to help you be thoughtful. The bee didn't know it was doing that, so it can't take any credit, but it created a situation which got you to thinking about your philosophy. I think that's the best solution to the dilemma of whether to be a bee killer or a bee healer. In truth, it probably doesn't matter if you were to kill or heal the bee, except to the extent that it would influence your opinion of yourself and your practical obligations.
But it had been long since I've abandoned my medical equipments, and I had none at the moment.
Were you in medical school at some point? Or did you simply keep them on hand to cultivate your own interests, knowledge, and powers?
Humans are imperfect, and despite their gifts they rely on primal instincts. Anything that disgusts them will be placed in a critical/fatal place, and anything adorable or useful will be placed in their utmost protection.
To the extent you are speaking of emotions rather than behaviors, I think you are spot on. To the extent you are speaking of behaviors, I consider it an exaggeration.
P.S: Another observation made me see something else. Although grand, noble dreams are worth risking your life for, don't mistake it for desires (or temptations, I'd like to call it).
I imagine "desire" is a very difficult word to understand for people for whom English is not their first language. I see what you are saying, and it is not an invalid use of the word "desire," but because "dream" and "desire" are so interchangeable in this sense you would be better to consider "temptation," which you mentioned, or words like "
disposition," "
inclination," "
proclivity," or, alternatively, words like "
trying" or "
striving." (I offer the links as a matter of convenience so that you may compare connotations and etymologies.)
Some would easily get confused with these two terms, but temptations are not worth achieving, for it deceives you from achieving your dreams. There is nothing wrong with listening to your heart, but weigh your decisions wisely. Procrastination, craving, monetary-lust, etc. temptations have ruined many in the past...
This passage, however, would not appropriately be described by any of the words I listed, nor even by "temptation," which is more general in its denotation. The word "desire" would not be appropriate either, except through its association with Buddhist jargon, which, in English, discourages desires. Rather, what you are describing here are character flaws not because of any energy spent pursuing them, but because you think they are not worth pursuing at all.
